#does she finally leave the machine and move on with her life

[the-rift-in-space]

so uh, was that the 'good' or 'bad' end? because it seemed awfully bittersweet to me

[kousanosgf]

men, minors dni

councilor!sevika x assistant!reader headcanons

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ getting together　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

i have too many thoughts about miss councilor sevika (⁠•⁠‿⁠•⁠)

◗ 　they get on each other's nervs at first. sevika is still too new for her position and the need to prove herself to the most of the council drives her insane, cause those fucks are hella dense. so she's constantly on the edge, trying to wiggle between mentally fighting for her people on the meetings and actually taking part in rebuilding of zaun. and sometimes (or a lot of times) sevika sees reader as just another nuisances and a person who's ready to judge her just because she's not from piltover

◗ 　reader on the other hand just can't comprehend sevika's nature. she was raised and worked for years in a more "higher context culture" if you can call it so, so she's shoked how straight to the point sevika is, often taking it as nothing but rudeness. reader also can't say much to sevika, since she can't make herself speak up, taught to be respecrful and obedient to her supiriors, leaving a lot of space to passive aggression

◗ 　 they're taking all the first places in the misunderstanding and miscommunication competition

◗ 　sevika hates how reader is set on the formal speech with her. "stop calling me councilor" "that's who you are" "yeah but you don't have to say it in every sentence, you sound like some wind-up toy" "okay, ma'am, I'll take you wish into account".

◗ 　she realises that reader calling her "ma'am" is worse but not for the same reasons

◗ 　 their relationship is very much about learning and understanding each other and those around you. mostly for reader, cause she was brought up with a mindset of zaunites being someone lesser. and even though she follows etiquette, trying to be polite and serve as a perfect assistant, cause her whole life she dreamed of working with someone who changes other people's lifes, or even being that person, she can be judgmental towards sevika, refusing to see her point of view properly

◗ 　 eventually they get closer and more comfortable with each other, which means reader drops her nice formal persona with her passive aggressiveness, and they actually menage to solve more problems while arguing and letting the steam out than just walking around on eggshells for days

◗ 　 that's when sevika starts fall for reader. it's like reader's mask slipped and she can finally see a real person and not a workaholic machine. she loves how both sassy and caring reader can be. their fights now end in laughter and omg they also can say sorry to each other

◗ 　 sevika insists on brining reader to any important event, where plus one is required. because reader helps her monitor her actions and gives helpful insides of other participants of course, not because she just wants to spend time with her, definitely not

◗ 　and reader is oblivious™. she's so happy, she finally doesn't hate her work and her and sevika can even be called friends, she doesn't notice any move sevika makes, simply thinking it's nothing but platonic gestures

◗ 　 eventually she snaps. "are you straight?" "what?" "i asked around, and people said you're into women. did they lie?" "n-no" "then what?" "what what?" "if it's just me you don't like you could've said so"

◗ 　 reader is of course shocked. she has to take couple of days off, embarrassed with how blind she was and to think the situation through

◗ 　 next time they meet reader refuses sevika, saying it's not right to have a romantic involvement with any colleague, especially not with your boss. sevika understands and agrees

◗ 　 well actually she doesn't. a compliment here, a touch there. sevika does nothing too provocative so reader can't say she's acting improper. but she's just playing a long game

◗ 　 and yes, it works. months of teasing ruins poor reader's morals. flustered and very much horny she tugs sevika into a kiss on just a normal tuesday in councilor's office

◗ they may or may not have sex right there they definitely do

��————————————————————————

kay, a bit messy. definitely gonna do part two or a full drubble with them later

[samkerrworshipper]

have no fear

jordan nobbs x reader, leah williamson x reader, arsenal x reader

part 2 of beautiful girl series -> pt. 1 -> pt.3

warnings: drug addiction, drug use, angst, pain, mentions of sexual assault, little bit of fluff if you look really close

So with every last piece of strength that you had in your body, you pulled the door open.

“Hey chicky.”

You tried to smile at your ma, you did, but it was hard.

“Hey ma.”

You knew you had to look like a wreck, you hadn’t had time to look in a mirror on your way down, but you knew that you must look like a complete mess.

Jordan brought you into a hug before you could do anything about it her little arms squeezing your body as tightly as you thought she could manage.

She forced her way into the house before you could say anything about it, walking her way into the kitchen and leaving you close the door behind her.

“Le said you were out last night.”

You followed your ma into the kitchen, walking straight to the coffee pot.

“You want coffe?”

Jordan had always been the stricter of your two parents, probably because she saw you less, Leah was the one who had to do the hard yards, constantly fighting with you over the biggest and smallest things.

“Tea please, how late where you out till, who were you with?”

You turned the machine on, trying to hide your annoyance at the immediate interrogation.

“Did you come here to see me or question my choices?”

You pulled two mugs from the shelf, reaching for the kettle and pouring enough water in before reaching for a tea bag.

“I came here to see you chicky, and catch up with you, I want to hear about what’s been going on.”

You dropped the tea bag into the cup, reaching across the island to hand it to your ma.

“I was out with a few friends.”

You pulled your vape out of your pocket, hoping that it would help to soothe the insistent memory of the events of last night and push it from the forefront of your mind.

“What’s that?”

You looked up at Jordan curiously, one of your own eyebrows raising.

“What’s what?”

You looked back at the coffee machine, watching as your mug slowly began to fill up with the brown mixture.

“Since when do you vape?”

You pulled your mug out from the machine, setting down on the island so you were facing your ma.

“A couple of months, why?”

You reached for the sugar container, taking the spoon out of it and dropping two spoonfuls in.

“Does your mother know?”

The shock in Jordan’s voice was so obvious.

“Yup.”

It was all good and well for Jordan to judge Leah’s decisions with parenting you, but at the end of day she’d been the one to leave, refusing to take you with her, insisting that life in London was better for you and that passing you back and forth between Birmingham and London every week wouldn’t be fair, she left you.

“How’s football been?”

The pivot in conversation should have helped, but you knew that it wouldn’t as soon as the words had left her mouth.

“I stopped playing.”

Jordan frowned at you.

“Since when?”

You brought the coffee up to your lips, finding solace in the warm liquid.

“A while ago.”

You wished she’d drop the topic, she seemed to be becoming more disappointed by the minute.

“Why, you were great, you were one of the best a the academy.”

You were one of the best because Leah spent all of her afternoons coaching you, because she knew the coaches, because she knew what she had to do to make you better, not because you were naturally gifted or because it came easy to you.

“I didn’t want to.”

You ried to answer her with some finality, to make her drop it and move on.

“How about school, how are your gcse’s going?”

You wanted to lie to her and tell her it was good, that you were on track to get all A stars like you’d planned.

“I don’t think I’m going to do them, my attendance isn’t high enough.”

Jordan’s face plummeted, her jaw going slack as she looked at you.

“What? I thought you wanted to go to college, that you were planning on doing medicine or law or english lit.”

You hated that Jordan had this preconceived version of you in her head, from when she left, from when she used to travel every weekend to see you, when you were doing everything to try and be the perfect kid for the both of them.

“Plans change.”

You kept your eyes downcast, scared to look at her and absorb the disappointment.

“What do you plan to do, without an education and your football? Do you plan to just live with your mother forever? Do you plan to use her until she’s old and retired? You can’t just live your life like that chicky, you need a goal, a aspiration, something you want to do with your life.”

It was the same conversation Leah had tried to have with you, one you’d ignored.

“I know ma.”

Jordan looked at you with disapproval.

“It doesn’t seem like you do, what are your plans, what are you spending all of your time doing?”

Getting high, crying, regretting your existence.

“I don’t know Ma, look, you don’t get to come here for the first time in a month and try to act like you give a shit about what’s going on, Mom’s been through it and I’ve been trying to support her, I’ll figure it all out later.”

Jordan looked dismayed, to say the least, her finger twirling the teabag inside of her cup aimlessly.

“Lovey, your mom is in a lot of pain right now, she doesn’t deserve to be taken advantage of, I understand you might be going through your own pain but it’d be nice if you could try and be a bit better for her.”

You wanted to yell at jordan, tell her that you were hardly the fucking problem, but you couldn’t, not when everything that had happened in the last 24 hours was circulating non stop in your mind.

“Look, I understand that I’m not the kid you wanted, that I stopped playing football and I’m not doing what you wanted me to.”

Jordan stopped you before you could say much more.

“No it’s just that months ago you were fit, you were reading and writing and playing football, you were smiling and spending all of your spare time with your mom and now it’s like all of that’s changed and you’ve just become this person I don’t know anymore. Can you blame me for being surprised? This isn’t you, This isn’t my kid, this just isn’t you, chicky.”

You couldn’t look at Jordan, you just couldn’t.

“You have no fucking idea what’s going on, you’re never here, the only time you give a fuck about my life is when it’s convenient for you and when you get to judge it. I’m not your kid anymore, you don’t fucking love me, you haven’t wanted me for a long time.”

Jordan recoiled at your words.

“First of all, don’t swear at me, I hope you don’t talk to your mother that way. Secondly, that’s not true and not fair. I’m here as often as I can be. I love you chick, I just think you could be making better decisions. Where were you last night?”

You rolled your eyes, you felt frantic, you could feel your heart beating in your ear and the blood pumping through your veins.

“That’s such bullshit. Trips to Spain to see Lucy are more important then me, huh? Trips to Ibiza to hang out with Caitlin and Katie are more important than me? You criticise the decisions mom has made but you aren’t here, you don’t understand what it’s like.”

Your hands were shaking so badly you had to put your coffee down, the liquid having spilt slightly down onto the countertop.

“Where were you last night, lovey?”

The question made you feel like you needed to puke, and for a second you thought it was just a feeling, but then you felt the bile rising and you realised it wasn’t just a feeling, you were about to vomit.

You rushed from the kitchen as quickly as your weary body would allow, your legs shaking underneath you, threatening to give out, taunting you from below.

You made it to the toilet bowl just in time for your jaw to go slack and the bile that had been rising in your throat to splat against the porcelain. You didn’t look at it, you couldn’t, knowing that it was probably evidence of what had happened last night, the alcohol, him.

You didn’t need to see Jordan to know she was waiting at the door behind you. It was the last way you wanted to spend your couple of hours with her, but it didn’t really matter now you supposed.

You knew you were done when the pressure in your throat dissipated and you finally felt like you could breathe again. You pushed yourself up, flushing the toilet before turning around to look at Jordan.

Your Ma reached out for you first, her hand coming up to your face, gently pressing onto your cheek.

“It’s alright bubba, I’m here, you’re okay, I’m sorry.”

Jordan’s arms opened up and without hesitation you leaned in, seeking out comfort that you hadn’t felt in a long time. The hug didn’t provide the love you were yearning for, it didn’t soothe the part of you that was hurting, but it did patch a hole inside of you somewhere.

You were far taller than Jordan, but she somehow made you feel like a little kid again, your head coming to rest down on her shoulder.

“C’mon, let’s get you to the couch and we’ll talk, huh, one on one, no judgement.”

You felt eight again as Jordan lead you over to the same couch. You felt how you did when you were eight, when your moms sat you down and promised you that they would always be a safe space for you, that you could tell them anything about the past and they wouldn’t judge you and that they’d always be proud of you no matter what, you felt how you did at 12 when your moms sat you down to let you know that the academy had asked them if you wanted to play with them, you felt how you did at 14 when your moms sat you down to let you know that your teacher wanted to put you up a form at school. Except everything was different, it wasn’t your moms, there was nothing to be proud of, nothing for them to tell you you were doing good at.

Jordan sat you down, your head pressed to her shoulder.

“I’m sorry that I was rough on you, okay? I don’t know what’s going on, I’m not here as much as I should be. Can you tell me about last night, bubba, please?”

You didn’t get why she cared so much, your mom hardly cared what you did on your nights out as long as you were home by your curfew and stayed safe.

“I went to a party, okay? It’s no big deal.”

You heard Jordan exhale next to you.

“You didn’t do anything stupid?”

You wondered what Jordan would define as stupid.

“I drank a little, smoked a bit of pot, normal teenage shit.”

You wanted it to be the truth, desperately, but it wasn’t.

“That’s it?”

Jordan knew you were lying, she’d always been better at telling, Leah on the other hand wasn’t as practised in being able to detect when lies were falling freely from your lips.

“Yes, for fucks sakes.”

Jordan only tightened her embrace around you, bringing her as close to you as possible. Leah had stopped hugging you like this when she’d done her knee, it had become harder and she knew you were growing up, she didn’t think you needed her in that way anymore, she was so incredibly wrong.

“Okay, I’m sorry chicky, I’ll stop with the questions. Let’s just have a you and me day, huh? Like we used to. We can go to the cafe that you like and down to the beach, whatever you want, just a you and me day.”

You didn’t want any of that.

“Can’t we just stay on the couch.”

You heard jordan chuckle a little bit.

“How about we go and get breakfast and then we can have a movie day, or we can catch up on the episodes of Love Island, I haven’t gotten to watching the new season yet.”

You didn’t want to go anywhere, you wanted to stay in your safe space, up in your room on your windowsill.

“Do we have to.”

Jordan nodded from above you.

“Fresh air will be good for you. Plus, you want to get a mean hangover then that’s your own fault chicky, it’s best to learn the hard way. Head upstairs and get changed, I need to talk to your mom real quick.”

You wanted to stick around to hear what Jordan planned to tell your mom, but you didn’t want to wreck whatever you had going with her, so you just nodded your head and stood up, beginning the walk back up to your room.

You hated looking at yourself in the mirror.

Because you could act like you were fine, you could pretend you were put together and had your life together and fool yourself but as soon as you were forced to look at yourself it all was clear. There was truth in your eyes and the way they made your body look so vacant, so eerie, it was as if they were the sign that there was no life left inside of you.

You’d always felt out of place no matter where you were, like you never truly belonged. You’d always felt like you were one of those tragic people with no storyline, so you lived watching other people, living through them. To start with it had been your moms, watching how much they loved each other, how they looked at each other, how they spoe about each other, like you were a background character in their story. It worked for a long time, until it didn’t. Until they split up, until you were forced to heal all over again from the home that was breaking around you. All the things you’d been running from before them were back, and instead of feeling like you were safe you knew you weren’t, you knew that no matter how loved you’d felt for the longest time, you weren’;t anymore, you didn’t get to live vicariously through their love.

You scrubbed your face without any real care, scrubbing the makeup, mascara and tears from last night off of your face.

Once you were content that the were physically gone, even if it mentally didn’t feel that way, you stood up from the basin and dried your face, hoping the patting would somehow strip the pain that was painted across your skin, it didn’t.

You moved to your wardrobe next, picking out a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie, as well as your thickest winter jacket. It was the same thing you wore every time your mom forced you out of the house to go on some stupid errand with her or some random appointment. You picked out a comfy enough pair of trainers before pushing your hair into a bun and walking back down the stairs.

Your Ma was talking hushedly into her phone, and put it down as soon as she spotted you descending the stairs.

“Ready to go?”

You nodded, one of your eyebrows up in questioning as you stared at your Ma’s phone.

“I was just checking in with your mom, she says they should be back around lunch time.”

Then Jordan would leave, like she always did.

“I’m not a chore, if you don’t want to hangout with me then you don’t have to be here, I can be left alone for a couple of hours.”

Jordan exhaled, deep enough for a few seconds to linger.

“That’s not fair, I’m here kiddo, I want to spend some time with you.”

You pulled your vape out of your pocket, Jordan could tell when you were lying and you could tell when she was.

“No, you have to spend time with me until mom is back, there is a difference.”

In the beginning, Jordan would come down every weekend, no matter where her game was, just to spend time with her little chicky, as the months and year had passed though, her time with you had become shorter and shorter until you’d only see her if she had a game in London.

“I don’t care, I get it, you’re busy with your new life, it’s whatever. Let’s just get this over and done with.”

Jordan looked like she wanted to say something, but the frown you sent her must have been enough of a silencer.

The two of you walked out the front door silent, down the street silent, all the way to the cafe, completely silent, the only sound to be heard was the cars going by, the sounds of your breathing and the repetitive puff of your lips as you pressed the vape to your lips. If you couldn’t have drugs then it was going to have to do.

When you got to the cafe you had enough courtesy to shove it in your pocket, focusing your attention on your Ma as much as you hated it.

She ordered you your normal, you were surprised she remembered.

“How’d the game go last night?”

You hadn’t tuned into either games, you’d had other things on your mind.

“We drew, it was a good game though.”

You nodded, it didn’t matter much in the scheme of things, Aston Villa weren’t in a title race, weren’t in contention for a trophy of any kind but also weren’t at any real risk of relegation, they were just mid.

“How about mom?”

Leah wasn’t playing, but a part of you still cared about how her team had gone.

“They won, 1-2 to man city.”

You nodded, that was something.

Your food arrived which was a good enough distraction, both you and Jordan focusing your attention on the meals in front of you. A couple of years ago, all of your sunday mornings had been spent here with your two moms, nowadays if you went, which was rare, it was by yourself.

The meal went on in awkward silence, the both of you clearly unsure how to deal with the pent up awkwardness that had been developing since you’d left the house.

The meal dragged on until the two of you couldn’t pretend any longer and called it done, the two of you standing up and leaving in the same silence you’d entered.

You didn’t mind the silence, it hurt, but not in the same way that it normally did, you were less alone than normal, you felt less out of place then normal.

You were silently praying that your mom got home earlier than expected, to give you the same normal, painful consistency that you were used to instead of this, instead of whatever it is that Jordan was pulling out of you.

The two of you walked back to the house in silence, once upon a time Blu would have been walking in front of you, her little legs patting across the concrete, nowadays though Blu stayed in Birmingham, with Jordan. Leah claimed she didn’t have time for a dog, it had always been Jordan’s thing though.

When you got back to the house, you collapsed down onto the sofa, flicking on a episode of love island before opening up your phone and starting to answer the multiple texts which you’d been leaving on delivered.

First, you replied to your friends, letting them know you were fine and just needed to be home before your curfew, then your mom, letting her know you were fine. Once you were finished updating all of your people, you moved onto aimlessly scrolling, flicking through different social media posts.

Jordan eventually joined you on the couch, her attention on the episode.

You didn’t miss the way her eyes would stray towards you every few seconds, darting away from the tv screen to look at you. It seemed like she was hesitating to say something, like there words on the tip of tongue that she was too scared to say. Jordan was always the silent one, even as you watched your moms relationship die out, she was always the quiet one, Leah on the other hand was always the loud one, always trying to fix problems that were unfixable.

You wanted to prompt her, ask her what her apparent problem was, but you stayed silent, muzzling yourself for the good of keeping whatever peace there was between the two of you.

PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD SEND ME YOUR PART THREE IDEAS, KEEPING IN MIND THAT LEAH POTENTIALLY FINDS OUT ABOUT RS WEED USAGE AND CONFRONTS HER ABOUT IT BUT DOESN'T KNOW ABOUT THE DRUGS

[actually-safer-to-kiss]

Making a Move

Summary: Spencer's been seeing someone new, and the last thing he wants is to mess this up

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Fluff

Word count: 1.8k

Hotch called a meeting over the phone, and the team is waiting for him and Rossi at the Roundtable. In the meantime, everyone else has made their stops at the coffee machine, Spencer included. He was having his second cup (the first one was from his apartment), but he didn’t need the team to know that. Although not as romantic as expected, his late night was worth the extra yawns and blurred vision. He’d rather the team not know about that too.

“What’s got you so tired, kid?”

Too late.

Morgan fiddles with a pen between his fingers. As he asks, his eyebrow arches; he’s ready for an answer. His question brings everyone’s eyes to him.

“Nothing,” Spencer says.

“Nothing?” He knows that’s not it. The pact to not profile each other basically ended before it started. “Cause this is the third time in the past two weeks you’ve come in here yawning like every ten seconds.”

“It’s nothing. Maybe I need more coffee.”

Garcia pokes her head up from behind her laptop. “You never have more than one cup of coffee at the office unless you really need it.” She’s still typing while looking at him. “You don’t even suggest it. Until now.” Typing halts, and Spencer sees the realization in her eyes. He knows he can’t stop the tide from coming. “Ooo, what’s his name?”

“It’s not a guy.” Spencer sips his coffee, sugar granules sliding over his tongue as he swallows.

“So it’s a girl.” Prentiss butts in with a smirk.

Spencer rubs his hand on his forehead.

“It is!” Garcia unleashes a squeal. “Okay, what’s her name?” Her magenta nails are out like a cat exposing its claws, and Spencer knows she’s prepared to start a free background check.

“He’s not going to tell us,” Prentiss says.

“What about her job? What does she do?”

A kindergarten teacher. “Not saying that either,” Spencer replies.

“Well, has anything happened between you two?” Morgan joins back in.

Just hello and goodbye hugs.

“Guys,” J.J. calls. She’s standing by the projector, remote in hand. “It’s Spence’s business. He’ll tell us when he wants to. Okay?” She uses her mom voice, and Spencer wouldn’t be surprised if the following words out of her mouth were, “If I hear another word about this, you’re all grounded.” It’s comforting, even though he knew she’d have his back.

Sighs of disappointment and protest around the table were not subtle, but they were as close to a verbal “okay” as she was getting. J.J. accepts it anyway and eventually takes a seat. Garcia leans over and asks about Hotch and Rossi, likely regarding where they could be. Spencer wonders the same thing; so they can get started.

And because Morgan keeps staring at him. He’s eager for Spencer to spill. He even leans over. “Seriously, kid, nothing?”

“I’m not afraid to tattle,” Spencer whispers back. He finds his book, The Life of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. He read it a couple days ago, yet opened a page and busied himself with the paperback. Morgan’s eyes are still staring. He’s not letting this go, even if this briefing led to the jet. Spencer makes the mistake of looking back at him for a moment, and he has no choice. He turned the page of his book and mumbled, “I want something to happen, though.” He bites his lips closed when the words finally leave them.

Spencer’s opened the door, welcoming Morgan and his sleazy smile. Something he — hell — that they’ve all seen and grown too familiar with at bars and clubs. “Alright, that’s what I like to hear.” He shakes Spencer’s bony shoulder. “My man.”

Spencer can’t help but grin, not in response, but because of last night. He was worried you’d consider him cheap or creepy for choosing to watch a movie at his apartment instead of the theater. He was hoping to make a move. Spencer thought you looked so cozy in your polka-dot sweater; he wished he could reach out and touch the material. It looked so soft. But all the mistakes he made might’ve ruined the chance for that.

“What’d you do?” Morgan whispers.

“I sat too far away at first. I tried moving closer but… I didn’t want to come off as weird. Then I excused myself to get some water, but then it still didn’t feel right and —”

“So you chickened out?”

“I didn’t chicken out.”

He chickened out.

“Okay, well, it’s good you’re not all over her. You’re giving her space and showing her respect. But Reid,” He ruffles his hair. Spencer smiles, and it’s the only thing that keeps J.J. from giving a lecture. “You’ve been on three dates. She likes you, man. She’s probably waiting.”

“But what if she —”

“She does. And you need to go in knowing that and display some confidence. When are you seeing her again?”

“Tonight. We’re getting ice cream.” Spencer tries to suppress his lips curling. It doesn’t work.

“See. Now let me give you some pointers.”

It’s been a while since Spencer’s built such a natural rapport with someone, especially someone in a field furthest away from the grim glimpses of humanity he sees.

He surprised you with a visit during your lunch last week. The vibrant colors in your wardrobe match your classroom. The walls covered in handmade decorations and class-made crafts are a refreshing difference from the dark basements and fluorescent-lit interrogation rooms. The light in your eyes when discussing your students is something Spencer doesn’t get to see often, and he didn’t want to lose it by moving too fast.

Displaying confidence was something that came naturally to Morgan. “Displaying” didn’t feel honest, Spencer thought,  more like a front. Then again, that’s what all displays really were. Spencer’s only known how to be himself. Morgan does have a point, though. He’s already been on three dates. So being himself has worked so far. But he’s sure he needs a little more.

On the walk to the agreed-upon spot, Spencer grips the strap of his satchel as he trudges uphill. It helps him burn off the nervous energy as he gets closer. But when he sees you sitting at one of the outdoor tables, he’s reminded again why he should be. You’re wearing a flowy yellow dress and white tennis shoes. The one difference from last night is the ends of your hair, brunette roots leading to dark pink ends.

You stand up and start walking toward him, beaming already. “Hey!” Your arms are already out, and you hug. Spencer notes you smell like coconut.

“Hey, you,” He tries to make it sound natural. His hand lingers at your waist for a second. “Your hair,” That same hand touches the ends. “It’s pretty.” He smiles, taking in your individuality. He thinks about how much you and Garcia would get along.

“Thank you,” your brightness radiates as you giggle. “It’s the most I can get away with at school, so I figured I might as well push the limits while I can. Plus, the kids love it.”

Spencer’s brain immediately goes to statistics about school dress codes and how they likely change the following year. He holds back. Morgan’s taught him that sharing statistics can apparently kill the mood. He even reminded him before Spencer left (early). “I’m sure they do.”

Your eyebrows quirk. “You okay?”

“Yeah, doll, I’m fine.” He tries again, but it’s taking everything for him not to cringe in front of you.

“No, you’re acting weird.” You cross your arms.

“Am I?” Spencer’s chest tightens.

“Oh yeah.” You snicker. “What’s up? Tell me about it.”

Spencer doesn’t exactly know how to say, “I really like you but I’m terrified of messing this up so I’m attempting to put on a terrible impression of a macho man because I want to kiss you and I feel like being myself isn’t going to get me anywhere” in a form that’s going to sound coherent and not like a crazy ramble that ends in you running away. So he doesn’t say it at all.

“Spencer,” You reach out to hold his hand. “You can tell me.”

“I…” He feels like he’ll stumble over his words before he gets a sentence out. He looks at you, and your grip tightens a little. He returns the gesture. “I don’t want to mess this up.”

“Mess what up exactly?”

“Well, this.” He moves his hand where his thumb is on top. “I like you a lot.”

“Oh, well, I like you too!” You say. “We’re on the same page there. So how could you mess this up?”

“Because I don’t know how to make the first move. I don’t want to push you.” The wind blows, and both of you push hair out of your faces, and Spencer tries not to lose his thoughts. “I even let one of my coworkers give me pointers on how to be… smoother.”

You try hard not to laugh, but it slips out, and the insecurity on Spencer’s face spreads. “Is this the one you told me about? Dirk Morgan?”

“Derek Morgan. But, yeah, him.”

“Okay, Doctor,” You step closer, and now both your hands lead up to his biceps. Spencer cautiously moves his hands to your waist. He’s hesitant about public displays of affection, but you started it, and he won’t be the one to end it so soon.  “I’m going to bring you into my field for a minute. I’m assigning you a pop quiz.”

Spencer’s mouth quirks a little, wondering where this is going.

“I have no doubt you’ll ace it.”

“I’m usually good at acing things. Exams, tests, quizzes.”

“Good. It’s one question: am I dating Derek Morgan?” Your thumbs glided back and forth against his cardigan.

“Are we dating?”

“We’ve been on dates. Therefore: dating.”

“Then, no, you are not dating Derek Morgan.”

“Congratulations, Dr. Reid, you got a 100.” You push yourself up on your toes to kiss him gently. You both pause for a moment. His hands trail to your back as yours glide to hang on his neck. His breath is extra minty for six in the evening, and it made you realize that was the move he wanted to make. “Feel better? Now that that’s out of the way?”

Spencer leans in to kiss you again. His response is clear when he pulls you in to make it deeper, but still innocent. When you open your eyes, you can see the weight that’s been lifted, a weight you lifted.

“Next time you feel like making a move, you’re more than welcome to go for it. Okay? You have my permission to go for it.”

“What if I don’t know your boundaries?”

“Just ask.” You put your feet flat on the ground, but other than that, neither of you moves or shifts eye contact. “Spencer, I like you the way you are. You don’t need some sort of smooth rhetoric to make me fall further for you.”

Spencer, once again, fails to hide the smirk as it grows. “You’ve… fallen for me?”

“Is that okay?”

“Yeah.” He says quickly. “It’s more than okay.”

Thank you for all the love from the last fic. I'm glad so many of you liked it 🥹 For anyone curious, I don't have a schedule. I just write and upload when I have something. I'm focusing on getting back into writing so feel free to send oneshot ideas if you have any. Thanks again 🩵

“Good. Now let’s get ice cream.”

[cherrynflowergarden]

Hello fellow desi motorsports fan🫰🏼

I want to send an ask for carlos Sainz on love fair (angst)

Carlos with a desi supermodel reader wife. They are going through a rough patch but something drastic happens and they almost part but he has a clearance and tries to win her back (does so after a lot of begging)

જ⁀➴ fractured frames || carlos sainz

an; hii fellow motorsport fan thank you so much for participating my love!!! i hope i did justice to the request :3

────🍧────

────🍧────

carlos stood by the floor-to-ceiling window of his penthouse, gazing at the skyline. the city lights blurred into a puzzle of chaos, much like his thoughts. his phone lay face-down on the marble counter, unanswered messages piling up. on the screen, her name glowed persistently. the love of his life. his wife. the woman he was on the verge of losing.

their once-vivid love story now felt like a fading photograph. he couldn’t pinpoint the moment it started to unravel—was it her endless photoshoots and runway shows or his late nights at the studio? their careers, once their greatest pride, had turned into an invisible barrier neither could breach. words turned to silence, and silence became a chasm.

the final blow had come weeks ago at a gala they attended together. carlos had hoped it would be a rare moment to reconnect. he watched from the sidelines as she floated through the crowd, dazzling in a gold saree that shimmered with every movement. cameras adored her, fans swarmed her, and carlos—despite being by her side—felt like a ghost in her world.

the argument that night was explosive. and destructive.

“you don’t care about us anymore!” carlos had snapped, voice sharp with frustration.

“and you think i don’t see how distant you’ve been, carlos? you bury yourself in work to avoid facing us!” she shot back.

harsh words were said and it ended with her walking out, tears streaming down her face. the door slammed shut, echoing the silence he dreaded.

she moved back to her parents’ house shortly after, leaving carlos alone in their shared home. their marriage, once brimming with laughter, had reduced to strained texts and awkward silences during mandatory public appearances. the thought of divorce loomed unspoken but heavy between them.

on one rainy and gloomy evening, carlos received a call that sent his world into a tailspin.

“mr. sainz, there’s been an accident.”

the words hit him like a punch. she had been on her way to a fashion shoot when her car skidded on the wet roads, colliding with a truck. carlos barely heard the rest of the details as he raced to the hospital.

seeing her there—bruised, unconscious, hooked to machine tore him apart. he dropped into the chair beside her bed, gripping her hand, tears streaming down his face.

“i’m so sorry, mi vida. i never should’ve let us get here. please… wake up. i need you.” his voice cracked, the weight of his guilt suffocating him.

she woke up a few hours later, groggy but alive. her first word was his name.

he leaned closer, his heart leaping at the sound. “i’m here, mi vida. i’m not leaving.”

the accident became a turning point. while her injuries weren’t life-threatening, they required weeks of rest and recovery. he stayed by her side, tending to her needs, refusing to leave even when she insisted.

in those quiet moments—no cameras, no public personas—they found fragments of what they had lost. he read to her from her favorite novels, brought her masala chai just the way she liked it.

carlos refused to let her slip away without a fight. he knew grand gestures wouldn’t fix the cracks in their marriage, so he focused on the little things—the ways he had once shown his love for her before life got in the way. he started with handwritten notes, each one a reminder of their happiest moments. he tucked them into her bags, sent them with her morning chai, and even left one at her favorite café, where they’d spent countless evenings laughing together.

carlos made sure to support her in the ways she needed most. he showed up to her fashion shoots unannounced, quietly cheering her on from the sidelines, and sent her playlists of songs that spoke of longing, love, and hope. on her toughest days, he didn’t push her but made his presence known, offering her the comfort of silence if that’s all she needed. he wanted her to feel what he had failed to show in recent months—that she was always his priority.

“i was an idiot, jaan. i let my ego and work come before us. i see that now.”

“it wasn’t just you,” she admitted softly. “i didn’t make space for you in my world either. i was so caught up in being ‘the supermodel’ that i forgot to be your wife.”

“i’m not giving up on us,” he whispered one night as she sat on her parents’ terrace, gazing at the stars. “even if it takes years, i’ll wait for you, mi vida. you’re worth every second.” his voice broke, but his determination didn’t falter, and for the first time, she let herself believe that he meant it.

it wasn’t a grand gesture that brought them back together but a quiet moment.

“i miss you,” she whispered, tears glistening in her eyes. he pulled her into his arms, holding her as if she might disappear. “i’ll never let you feel alone again,” he vowed.

rebuilding wasn’t easy, but they took it one day at a time. they carved out space for each other amidst their chaotic lives, learning to communicate and prioritize their relationship.

their story wasn’t perfect, but it was theirs—messy, beautiful, and worth fighting for.

────🍧────

[imraespace]

STREAMERS! ★ ˎˊ˗

..CHAPTER 8 || CHAPTER 9! || CHAPTER 10..

note: i wrote this when the barbie movie had first came out hehe

"Are you ready Giyuu?" You asked him through the call.

You thought it was wise to make a video out of it! Free content.

Anyways, you all planned to wear pink because who won't, its barbie.

"I'm not wearing pink." Sanemi answered back Mitsuri for the last time. Mitsuri wants everyone to be perfect for this gathing.

"Cmon! We will all be matching!" She said as she showed her outfit.

It was a simple white, long sleeved top and a pink skirt, a few inches above her knees. Seems very Mitsuri.

"I rather die than match with you all."

"You're lying. Just wear the darn pink man.." You mumbled as you looked through your closet for clothes.

Shinobu and Giyuu was in the same room, his room actually, she's helping him look for an outfit clothes while wearing her's already.

But your eyes wasn't on them, it was on Muichiro who's literally in your room.

"Y/N, I literally can't fit in your clothes."

"But you have no pink clothes so find something."

He sighed.

"And hurry! I want to do your hair." You said with a big smile.

.

.

A little while later almost everyone was finished! Besides Muichiro, because you're doing his hair.

And his hairstyle is barbies half up and half down hairstyle! Does he look silly? Probably but he didn't complained.

And now you all meet up!

"Sometimes I wished I never worked in a school." Sanemi mumbled, staring at his phone.

"That's the best part of it!" You said as you pat his back, he just rolled his eyes, silently curing you out.

You all finally got your tickets and decided to wait around.

But then...

You saw a classmate.

"Where is his shirt.." Muichiro whispered.

"I think he's dressed up as Ken from the movie." You whispered back.

"Hi guys!" The cheerful boy greeted both you as Muichiro, along with his sister and his friends behind.

"Hi tanjiro!" You cheerfully greeted back but eyes still on Inosuke.

"How are you even allowed to enter the mall without a shirt?" You asked him

"I hid my chest using this fluffy coat." Inosuke said with a confident smile.

"Oh.."

.

"Anyways, I'm guessing you two are also going to see the movie?" Tanjiro asked you both and got a nod in response.

"That's great! Nezuko wanted to see it so I invited Zenitsu and Inosuke." He said as Nezuko nodded in agreement. She's wearing the uniform from the princess charm school.

As soon as your eyes caught on to it, you was squeezing the life out of her, followed by small 'aw"s.

Safe to say that she looked cute!

Zenitsu was dressed up as Preminger! (im joking LMAO)

.

.

Tanjiro and the others left to buy tickets and the others went to get food which leaves you and Muichiro alone.

"Mui look." You said as you pointed at a crane machine game.

"No.." He sighed out.

"Please!" It was like a tradition, every time you see a crane game, you make Muichiro do it! That's why you have quite alot of plushies on your bed.

"No." He said but you ignored as your dragged him towards it anyways.

It had Hello Kitty, Pokémon and Sonic plushies.

"Get me that Pikachu one, he looks so cute." You said as you pointed towards it.

And just as you said, he was on his way to get tokens to play it.

But who said you wasn't going to play?

You also got tokens and decided to do the Hello kitty one.

A few minutes has past and you finally heard him speak up.

"Got it." He said as he shoved the plushie in your face.

"Hold on! I'm trying to get this Kuromi for you." You said as your moved his hand out of your face.

"You're gonna go broke."

"No."

"Yes."

"Shut up."

He sighed, then walked up behind you, moved the crane a bit to the back, then finally made you push the button.

And indeed you got the plush.

"Oh." You yet out as you got the plush and then finally, shoved it in his face.

"Here!" You said as he gave you the Pikachu as well.

A small smile was plastered on his face as he took the plush.

Part of the tradition was getting plushies for each other. Matching plushies actually, you had My Melody so you got him Kuromi.

"Thanks, now we're matching." He said.

"Yep." You responded and held the Pikachu.

"Now we need to wait until we get an Ash plush for you." You told him as he nodded.

"Uh sorry to cut this short but time to see the movie." Sanemi said, ruining the mood.

"Okay. Thanks for not ruining the mood or whatever." You said as you rolled your eyes

"No one should be happy if I'm not."

"Oh."

"Oh."

.

.

.

At last the movie! Safe to say that everyone of you all sat in the back row and it was a bit chaotic on Tanjiro's side. Inosuke thought it was fun to throw popcorn at those infront of him. It indeed inspired you! So at random times you too, will throw a bit of popcorn. Though on Muichiro's lap rest the plushies you both had won.

STREAMERS!

EXTRA!:

TAGLIST: @deezy12299 @s0uldarling @cherryblossomly @boogiemansbitch @delusional-mushroom @ashlovelys (OPEN)

[silassinclair]

Introduction!!

Yandere Ghost x Reader

CW// Suicidal Thoughts, Paranormal Activity, Murder Mention

My other yand OC Maddox was a hit with ya’ll so here’s a short introduction of a new oc!! Hope you like him as much as I do. This is gonna be very boring because it’s an introduction but I’ll make a oneshot right after this one!!

Masterlist!!

“This key unlocks every door in the manor. Except the door to the attic for some reason, but there’s nothing of importance up there. Apparently it’s just some old junk the first owner left.” The agent said with a tight lipped smile. Her matte red lipstick was as bright as a stop sign.

Taking the key from her hand you’re surprised to feel how heavy it is. “Thank you.” You mutter.

“All the legalities are settled so she’s all yours. I recommend blasting that ivy off the side wall of the house though. The roots can mess up the brick.” The agent adds.

“Alright, I appreciate the tip.” You say and shut the door in her face, leaving you alone in your new home.

Maria was a total pain in the ass, like all people who work with selling things. Oh and for the record, you like the ivy that grows on the side of your new home. Makes it look pretty and natural. Anyways, her being gone was like a breath of fresh air. All was good now that you finally had a place to call home.

Your Grandfather died and in the will he left you his summer home in Italy. It was a grand manor that was located on a hilltop surrounded by forrest. It was perfect for your hermit self. Never in your life would you imagine leaving the states to come live in Italy but here you were. After all the manor was handed to you on a silver platter, the offer would be foolish to refuse.

There was nothing for you in the states. Your life was miserable, draining, and filled with nothing but painful repetition. Being worked like a machine and stepped on like a doormat. Having a horrid and overly possessive ex boyfriend who was a serial cheater didn’t help either. You were so close to ending your miserable existence until a woman named Maria gave you a call.

And now you were here, standing in the foyer of your new home. Some work would need to be done. Floors needed polishing, corners dusting, windows wiping. Maybe you should make a checklist?

"This is gonna be a long day.." You think to yourself.

"There she is again. She must be the new owner." I think to myself as I watch the young woman clean the floor.

The past owner, Lorenzo, must have passed away and put the ownership of the manor into this girl's hands. It has been a while since I’ve seen the old man. But did he have to put my home in the hands of some uncultured American? I find this terribly irresponsible of him, I mean look at her!

She's using a bleach based product on the hardwood! Lorenzo was a good owner of the Verona manor. He hired staff to keep it well maintained and he rarely ever visited. But this girl... she's an utter buffoon. Before she can torture the hardwood any longer I swiftly hover behind her and move the bottle a few feet away from her while she isn't looking.

"Huh?" When she reaches for the bottle she finds it has moved away. I snicker at her confused reaction.

"It was just right here..."

She reaches over and grabs it again but before she does I kick it, sending it flying across the foyer and hitting the front door.

“Any minute now she’ll run away screaming, she won’t even look back.” I think to myself with a devious grin.

But when I hover in front of her I only see an annoyed expression on her face.

“Uhm… Did I do something wrong?” She says.

I freeze, is she not afraid? Why was she talking as if she were talking to someone? Can she see me?

“I asked if I did something to upset you.”

And then her eyes move up and look right into mine. For the first time in centuries I feel as if I have ignited, that I am alive and that my heart once again beats like all other human beings.

“You… Can you see me?” I ask hesitantly, afraid that if I may speak too loudly she’ll scamper away like a mouse.

Her soft lips part slightly as she nods.

He told me his name was Dante Verona. He was the original owner of the Verona manor and he comes from an Italian royal family. But he was assassinated centuries ago in this very manor during a masquerade party. So I assume that his spirit is trapped here. He was wearing an intricate black, red, and white Venetian mask that hid his face. He wore matching black and red noble attire and his hair was a curly dark chocolate brown that went down to his neck.

Overall he was a total mystery. His entire existence was perplexing to me. Yes I do believe in the paranormal but never would I think I’d meet a real life ghost.

“I assume your grand father is Lorenzo? Has he passed on?” Dante asks, cutting through the thick silence.

I blink a few times, maybe if I blink hard enough he’ll disappear and that’ll confirm that this was all just my imagination. So I blink, but Dante’s translucent self is still hovering in front of me. The blank expression of his mask makes me slightly uneasy. I couldn’t get a read on the guy at all.

Coughing, I finally answer, “Uhm yeah… He was my grand father. He left me this manor in his will. And he didn’t mention any ghosts or anything like that.” I add.

“Lorenzo couldn’t see me. You’re the first to see me actually.” Dante says. His voice sounded smooth but the mask muffled it slightly. But he also sounded like he was in pain. I wonder how long he’s been here, trapped in this manor.

“So this whole time you were all alone?”

“Yes.” He softly replies. “Just me. Only my spirit is here.”

“That must be hard.” I say, but not in a pitying sounding way. The last thing he wants is pity probably.

Dante hovers away and I follow him into the living room. Looking up I see him hover up to the chandelier. He looks down at me, I can see his dark green irises through the black holes of the mask.

“Every day is hard. God has cursed me, rejected my entry into the heavens.” His voice cracks. "My death occurred in the very room we are in."

I look around the oriental room we are in. It has been modernized over the years, but I can imagine how it looked in his century. The masked party people, music, drinks, lies and deception. All of it in the room we are in but centuries before.

"My killer has not been found but I know they are long dead. Knowing that they burn in hell brings me peace. And I have learned to accept that I am to remain here.”

Then he rambles on about his life story. The tragedies he lived through, the friends he made and lost, wars and battles faced, and lovers went and gone. But I don't mind that this conversation is one sided. He has had no one to talk to for centuries so he deserves a listener.

"I apologize my lady. I have droned on for far too long. It's impolite..." Dante says in a dejected tone. But I reassure him.

"Y-You're okay! I understand. You haven't had someone to talk to in a long time I imagine. Besides, I found your life story very interesting."

Dante hovers down to where I'm sat on the couch. He also sits beside me. Leaning in close he tilts his masked face to the side as he comes closer to mine. I move away slightly; his body emits an eerie chill.

"Tell me about you. What is your name?" He asks, his eyes twinkle with an emotion unknown to me.

"I'm Y/n L/n. I originally lived in the United States, but I moved here as you know." I mutter. I've never been one to talk a lot anyways.

Dante looks me up and down. His fingers reach out causing me to flinch back, but he goes to touch the fabric of my black dress rather than my skin. To my surprise his fingers can touch the fabric, they don’t phase through it.

"Why do you wear black? Are you a widow? Has your husband passed on?" He asks softly.

I feel myself giggle slightly and he looks up at me with probably a confused expression.

"I've never been married silly, I'm only 23 years old.”

Dante’s emerald eyes widen. “23 and unmarried? Has the societal norm changed? Because my sister was married off to her husband when she was 16.”

I cringe physically. “Oooh yeah, lots of things have changed. But also I’m wearing black because it’s just my style. It’s called goth, it’s a music based style. I can tell you about it sometime.”

Dante looks at me like I’ve grown three heads. I can see it in his eyes.

“Ahem- Anyways. Why do you wear that mask?” I ask.

Dante breaks the eye contact and looks down at the side. “It does not come off. No matter how hard I try to remove it, it only stays. I cannot remove the clothing either.”

I nod. “Is it because it was the last thing you wore before you died?”

He nods in return.

“I assume so.”

He moves closer to me ever so slightly. His gloved hands caress my h/c locks of hair and then he brushes his fingers across my cheeks and jawline.

“What are you doing?” I ask breathlessly.

Dante’s hooded eyes shine with an emotion I cannot read. But I feel like my life from this day forward will never be the same. Can the living and the dead co exist?

Dante Verona. Will we be able to share the same roof?

[unicreamuwu]

The Little Batgirl (Yandere Platonic Batfam x Child Reader)

Chapter 1 - Welcome to the Wayne Manor

Warning: Yandere Themes and minor bullying from Damian

(Anything that reader says in a bolded text means she's in "thought of mind.")

The car stops in front of some metal gates.

Bruce helps Y/N out of the car, and she looks up at the giant mansion that is in front of her.

(Do NOT steal my art!)

Y/N looks up at awe as the mansion was right in front of her.

"So, this guy's rich! Can't believe this is going to be my new life," she thinks to herself as she stares.

Then, a butler comes out and bows in a respected manner towards the little girl.

"Greetings, Miss Y/N. Welcome to your new home, I hope you'll be happy here," he said in a kind manner.

"The butler knows my name, too!" She thinks to herself with wide eyes.

When Y/N goes inside, the first thing she sees is a young boy who looks a little older than her. Maybe about a couple of years.

For some reason, she felt an uneasy vibe from him.

Bruce basically pushed the young girl towards him and told him to help her look around.

The boy stares down at Y/N before he lends out her hand.

"I'm Damian Wayne, the only biological son of Bruce Wayne," he introduces himself in a cool tone.

"Um... hi? I'm Y/N..." She said in an awkward tone as she accepted his hand to shake.

Damian then walks around Y/N as he eyes her appearance up and down before his face was an inch from her's.

"Your hair is messy. I would brush it if I were you," he tells her in a cold tone before he turns his heels and walks off to lead her for the tour.

Y/N could only stare at him with a blank stare.

"Wow, what a rude boy..." she thoughts before she follows him.

~~~~~

While Y/N was walking around for the tour, she stopped to see Damian showing her a portrait of a strange looking family tree.

"This is the main batfamily line," he said as he showed the family portrait.

She examines it as she turns her gaze to Damian.

"What's the batfamily?" She asks.

"It's what we call ourselves," he tells her before he leads the way again.

"Also, that bat plush looks old and dirty. Get a new one or something," he tells her as he walks.

When he said that, Y/N stops to think about what he was talking about.

Then, she realized that he was talking about Batsie, her favorite and only plush doll.

"Hey! Don't call my best friend that!" She yells out to him as she jogs after him.

~~~~~

As Y/N followed Damian, she gets to see so many rooms around the mansion.

Then, he takes her to the batcave.

There, Y/N's eyes brighten with amusement as she looks around the enormous batcave.

There were so many cool artifacts, such as the world's giant penny.

"Where did you get that dinosaur?" She asks Damian as she points at a huge dinosaur model.

"Father built a time machine to travel back in time to get this," he tells her.

"Really?"

"No."

Damian walks out of the batcave, leaving Y/N all alone I her thoughts filled uup.

"So, does he have a time machine or not?" She asks.

~~~~~

After the tour and Damian basically calling rude names towards Y/N, she was trying to find her room.

When she finally finds a pink door that looks freshly painted, she goes inside.

In her room, there was a massive pink princess bed with pink and white covers and some fluffy pillows, and the shelves in that room had various kinds of books and basically almost all of the stuffed animals in the world.

Although the room looks beautiful and adorable at the same time, Y/N felt an odd feeling when she was inside.

However, it was all shrugged off before she flung herself onto her new bed.

~~~~~

As Y/N was technically jumping up and down on her bed, a pair of eyes were watching her.

Damian then moves away from the door and walks up to his father.

"Did you make sure that you put in everything she liked?" Bruce asks him in his usual cold tone.

Damian nods in response.

"How do you know that those were the dolls she liked?" He asks him which made Bruce chuckle.

Something about Bruce's chuckle sounded a bit darker than his usual laugh.

"I have my ways. Now, get everyone here. We're going to throw our new member a welcome party," he tells him before he walks off.

[timebom]

thoughts while watching episode 2! ☆

summary: necessary amount of love for jinx, unnecessary amount of child hate lmao

oh my baby girl i love u it's ok don't be sad please

jinx focused episode let's gooo

me: omg was that a flash of powder?!

*rewinds*

me: ...who the fuck is that.

me: oh no. oh no. this kid is important enough to make it to the intro, jinx is going to take care of this child isn't she. that sure is... a choice

oh no the kid is here

ugh for me personally the only thing worse they could have done is make her pregnant or have a baby. i hate storylines like this im so sorry. it's different when the parent-child relationship is like the main focus or the premise of the show/movie (the mandalorian, the last of us, the walking dead game, silco taking care of powder who's the main character), but when a random ass child shows up years late to the party and needs someone to take care of them and the child character has no previous connection to the audience... i really dislike that in stories im so sorry. leave jinx alone

also, in what world is jinx ready to be a mother figure to anyone lmao she's very much stuck in a child-like state herself half the time. this is not what she needs, we both deserve better

i like the child's design though

honestly, i hope arcane makes me take all that i just said back, but we'll see

jinx i love you

her voice is so good, the voice acting is sooo good oh my god

does she kinda have a different vibe or is it just me?

honestly thought she would be doing a lot worse than she is. good for her!

don't get me wrong, i get that from the orphan's point of view jinx just saved her life and she's clearly super strong, what else is she supposed to do than follow

what i'm saying is that i personally do not want jinx to take care of a child right now. i want this to be about the sisters. the fact that i don't like this is on me, the writers can obviously do whatever they want with their story buuut.....

sevika<3

can't wait for her and jinx to team up

wait does sevika even know that jinx was the one who killed silco?

i don't know what's going on with viktor and whatever he's saying here is not helping

did she though?

everything viktor does now is so slow. the way he speaks, the way he moves...

im not a jayvik girlie but i imagine that those who are felt rly sad after this scene

ekko my boy! the biker mouse from mars can speak?

my brother: he really does look like one

i literally facepalmed and my brother groaned

ekko please ditch this creature you're better on your own

shut up. you're not cute, you're not funny.

i should probably clarify that heimer is my least favourite character in the show, i kinda have no patience for anything he does 😂

i literally said DO IT JAYCE out loud

this made me laugh

same, ekko, same.

can we talk about the way he's holding the cup lol

it's also kinda funny and kinda sad at the same time that this is probably his first time tasting tea

SHUT UUUUPPPP

i screamed

vi? nooo, what the hell 😫 i thought it was the bad guys after her but no it's VI? don't hurt jinx like this, don't hurt me like this

the animation is making me feel like i'm the one who can't breathe damn

hasn't my girl been through enough?? stooooppp

this looked really cool though

there's no way those were the only two times he saw her cry

also, she's insane, blinking and getting even closer. i am obsessed with her

YESSSHHHH

after getting her ass kicked by vi and jinx repeatedly in season 1, i have a feeling this is a battle she's finally going to win 😆

the whole-body movement she did here, so cute, i love her so much 😭

GET JINXED OMG!!!!!!!! 💙💙💙💙💙

holy shit you can always trust arcane with fight scenes

my brother: no one does fight scenes better than arcane.

me: i know right?! that was so good! best scene in season 2 so far!

brother: yep.

oh wow ok. girl, 1st of all, ew. 2nd of all, that thing was like 80% machine what was there left for you to eat? 3rd of all... this begs the question, what do these people eat, exactly? do they draw the line at cannibalism but everyone else is fair game? huh.

i doubt the people in piltover eat like this

no, let's not do that<3

what is he, jesus? this is a bit too much.

[babybluebanshee]

Don’t Hug Me, I’m Scared is what happens when two deeply toxic people try and fail to cope with the death of someone they simultaneously loved and viewed as a burden

(within the universe of the show, obviously I don’t mean Joe and Becky. I don’t know their lives)

Meet Roy and Lesley - two young creatives trapped in the drudgery of capitalism. They make each other laugh with songs about dancing files and asides that the boss got where he is because he just wandered into the office and didn’t leave. They want to break away from the world of vending machine coffee and office small talk and create something, something that will make a difference. But making your favorite idea takes two things they don’t have - money and confidence. So, for a while, their dreams stay dreams. And then one day during an office retirement party, they decide sick of waiting. They propose marriage and a business partnership. They’ll make their dream a reality even if it kills them.

At first, things are fine. They create a lovely little program about a duck and a monster man, teaching children about the world through song and laughter. Sometimes Roy wants to cut a few too many corners, is a bit too obsessed with saving money, but he means well. Lesley’s ideas are sometimes a bit too out there - Roy has to remind her a lot that they’re writing for children, it doesn’t have to be that deep - and she doesn’t always take criticism well, but she’s just dedicated to the craft. They always make up no matter how many fights they have. Around the same time they finally have a finished project, ready to be pitched, Lesley announces she’s pregnant.

They’re thrilled to be parents. When David is born, it almost makes them forget how many times the show has been rejected, how many retools they’ve had to do to make their ideas appeal to someone, anyone. Funds are tight, tensions are high, but surely having the sweet, innocent face of a baby will help them calm down. Lesley decides that’s what’s missing in the show - a child character, to ask questions and be guided by his loving adult companions and a constantly changing array of musical teachers. David becomes a character in the show, a representation of every child they’re trying to help teach.

But it quickly becomes clear that there’s something not right about David. He doesn’t smile as much as other babies, doesn’t babble or imitate sounds he hears. When other children are starting to talk, David stays quiet. Leslie explains to her other mum friends that he’s just a great thinker. It takes him a long time to walk, and when he does, he’s very clumsy. Roy laughs it off, saying he’s no prima ballerina himself. The boy will get the hang of it. But symptoms keep piling up - David sometimes rocks back and forth and stares into space. He doesn’t look people in the eye when they speak to him. He moves his hands around in odd ways and repeats words over and over. He covers his ears whenever he and Lesley go to the park because it’s too loud, complains his clothes hurt, food feels weird. He hates being hugged. His parents try to be understanding, but as stressed as they are, something has to give.

Roy gets angrier. He grows to resent his son and all his mystifying quirks. He just knows that the boy is doing it on purpose, and if he would just listen to his father and stop acting so strange, then everything would be fine. Lesley, meanwhile, shuts herself off. She hides away and daydreams about how things are “supposed” to be - her show is supposed to be famous by now. David is supposed to be normal. Her marriage is supposed to be strong. Her life is supposed to be better. And she can’t stand being reminded that none of that is true.

Then the unthinkable happens - David dies. While his mother was hiding in her fantasies and his father was stewing in anger, David wandered out the front door, chasing a bird. An oncoming driver didn’t stop in time.

After the doctor gave them the news, Roy and Lesley got a phone call - their show has finally been picked up. Each iteration of the show is Roy and Lesley refusing to properly process their grief and accept that their negligence lead to David’s death. He’s immortalized in the show forever, but in different ways. He’s no longer a human who lived and felt and was real. He’s a character that Roy and Lesley can make do and be whatever they want.

Roy uses the show to vent his frustrations, to punish David for all he put him through. He polices David’s actions, telling him the right way to create and feel and eat and dream, the way ROY thinks he should. After all, if David had only listened to him, he’d still be alive. As Red and Duck start questioning his decisions, asking him to stop being so aggressive and overstimulating, he eliminates them. The avatar of David is left all alone to face his father’s mounting violence and cruelty. We see Roy’s understanding of how the show was created - he plucked Lesley from obscurity and gave her everything, without him there’d be no show, and Lesley would still be making files dance as their coworkers looked at her in annoyed confusion.

Lesley uses the show as a way to fix things. David is still alive and she can make sure he grows up right - he learns about making friends and driving a car and grown up things like bills and insurance and getting a stable job. All the teachers are gentler, kinder. What she would have been if she could. And everything resets at the end. Even when things become horrifying, even when everyone is lost and scared, even when faced with death, Lesley always has backups. No mistakes this time, she just knows it. And if the avatar of David ever starts asking questions, ever starts wondering what’s beyond this house, where Lesley can keep him safe? She can always distract him, tidy up, and start over. Lesley’s thoughts on the show’s creation is that, if it wasn’t for her, Roy would have been perfectly content to waste his life as an office drone because he didn’t have the courage to break out.

It doesn’t matter which of them is right. All that matters is the show. And no matter what they do, David is still gone. All they have left is this puppet they seem to have very limited control over. It’s clearly taking its toll on them, physically. They’re barely human anymore. No matter how they twist and turn, they’re still just dancing in chains.

I wonder what will happen.

[dumbasslesbi2]

Detective (Agatha x Rio) Detective x FBI Agent AU

Summary:

Agnes was finally put back on a case but what she wasn't ready was for who else would be put on it. Based this off of the first episode but basically took out any and all of the witch stuff. Basically Detective Agnes x Agent Rio

Notes:

Tumblr finally let me post this fic! Please tell me if there's any misspelling or grammatically incorrect stuff, I have dyslexia so sometimes I miss so stuff.

Agnes woke up for work the same as she did everyday, with not enough sleep and a raging headache. She always wore the same outfit claiming that it “made it easier”. In reality, she knew it was from her laziness and didn’t have the effort to pick out different outfits daily. Which in fact led her to wearing her usual flannel and jeans as she always did. She went downstairs to get her much needed coffee, while waiting for her machine to finish she was stuck with her pile of files of her ongoing case. She was stuck with a Jane Doe and couldn’t figure out by any means who she could be. Agnes had been wandering all over the town for any clues for weeks now with everything leading to dead ends. She knew it was gonna end up with the chief sending in a third party and if there’s one thing Agnes doesn’t work with, it’s people. She hated having anyone else have control of her cases or have control of anything in her life. The beeping of her coffee machine broke her out of thought and she went to go fill up her thermostat. Finally she was all ready to go back to the station, able to go back to what she was good at and loved doing, solving cases.

“Morning Detective” said the police officers outside the station greeting Agnes back to where she belonged. “Morning boys, don’t get into too much trouble out there” she said back joking at the officers as she used to. Walking through the sliding doors she let out a breathe she didn’t know she was holding. It had been a while since she had been put on a case as big as this one and she didn’t want to fuck it up, not like before. “Agnes! We gotta talk” greeted the chief, walking towards her with an already stained shirt. “Chief we talked about this, if you’re gonna make breakfast smoothies you need to put a lid on, you already have two stains on your shirt” she said walking towards her office. “Oh, thanks Agnes but I ugh…” said the chief trying to get the stains out with a handkerchief he had. “I can already tell, you’re gonna tell me something I don’t like,” Agnes said, stretching in her office chair. “Soil samples from under the fingernails and toenails of the Jane Doe came back. They don’t match the soil she was lying in” he stated, still trying to take the stains out. “That’s no surprise. We assumed she’d been moved.” she retorted, still trying to get rid of a kink in her back. “There were traces of a particular microbial sediment only found in Eastern Europe-" "Now get to the part I’m not gonna like” she interrupted him getting annoyed with all the bullshitting. “Here I am,” a woman behind the chief said. Agnes sat semi shocked but she knew it was coming. This wasn’t just any other third party brought in on her case, it was Rio. Memories hit her back like a freight train, every I love you, every I hate you, and the worst of all, Nicholas.“Okay…” was all Agnes could say, she hadn’t seen her in years and as much as Agnes hated to admit it, she was just as beautiful as the day she left her, if not even more. However, she wasn’t going to let Rio see that.”Fancy dirt always attracts the attention of the Feds” she said, fixing her shirt to make sure Rio didn’t see how pathetic she had become. “Agent Vidal is an asset here, Agnes. More brain power and more resources mean you get to the finish line faster, strength in numbers.Teamwork makes the dreamwork-” the chief said knowing how much this was going to backfire but was once again interrupted by Agnes. “Eat my ass, Chief” she said, hoping he would leave the situation and not add more fuel to her ongoing fire. Rio couldn’t help but laugh a little bit, after all these years Agnes was still the same,still stubborn, still hot headed, still attractive . “I’ll leave it to you then” said the chief, leaving awkwardly.

Rio couldn’t help but scoff a little bit as she went to sit on the couch in Agnes’s office. “It’s been a long time” Rio couldn’t help but say with a bit of endearment. “What are you doing here?” said Anges with a harsh tone, not ready to face her ex-wife. “My job.” said Rio with her usual snarky attitude. “You wanna take control of my investigation.” stated Agnes with pointed eyes. “No” Rio said with a breath still thinking about how they used to be. “If you wanna be in control, you can be.” stated Rio, knowing how much Agnes hated anyone else being in charge of her cases. Agnes couldn’t help but lick her lips, still trying to keep on the topic of the case and not on Rio. “She…” Agnes paused for a bit, getting distracted by Rio. “The body was moved across state lines. Is that your play?” she stated, trying her hardest not to break in front of her ex lover. Rio looked around the room for a bit and couldn’t help but think of how they used to be. “Is this really how you see yourself?” Rio stated, keeping eye contact with Agnes even after getting no reply. Agnes knew the game she was playing, Rio always loved to play games with Agnes but she knew better than to give in right now. “Sure. Let’s talk about the case. What are your theories? How’d she end up in the ravine?” questioned Rio, seeing that Agnes wasn’t going to give in so easily. “No drag marks. Thinking the perp carried her” “Uh… Seems logical. But you don’t really believe that because… Oops.” Rio paused showing pictures from the scene.”No tracks for the perp. Not a leaf disturbed before Forensics showed up. It’s almost like she just magically appeared.” Rio stated, taking a seat on Agnes’s desk. Agnes couldn’t help but scoff a bit “Let’s stick to reality here, yeah?” “Sure” said Rio calmly, nodding her head in agreement. “If there’s one thing we can agree on,it’s that these cases are always about the place. The specific small town,the history of it, the people in it, the secrets buried beneath it. That’s where the answers lie.” she said keeping eye contact with Rio. However, Rio couldn’t help but look away and nod. She took in a breathe, thinking how typical it was of Agnes to not think out of the box. “Well, who better to solve the mystery than one of Westview’s very own? Yeah, you’ve lived here your whole life. Isn’t that true… Agnes?” Rio questioned, keeping eye contact once again with Agnes, hoping that she would at least break this time. Agnes was over it, she was done with Rio’s game. She got up and stood in front of the door, “I don’t want you here” she stated, letting Rio know she was done. Rio knew she was almost there but didn’t want to push it. She got up and started walking towards the door. “Te veo” Rio told her before leaving, she always had to have the last word.

Agnes couldn’t help but still be in the office till late, trying to solve the case. She was getting close to something, she could feel it. However, it just wasn’t making sense, to Agnes it had to be logical and make sense in some way but everything was leading her into unreal or unnatural. There was clues of something dark and sinister behind it but that didn’t work for Agnes. The supernatural wasn’t real or true to her, it needed to be something based in reality. “Go home Agnes” said the chief seeing Agnes was still in. “Iam home” stated Agnes, trying to hone in on a clue just as the light went out. “Hey!” yelled Agnes. “Go home.” stated the chief, not taking no as an answer. So she did just that, tired and achy she put her jacked and badge on the living room table. Seeing Rio had brought back too many memories that she had put away. She couldn’t help but go into a room she had looked at in years. Nicholas’s room. The memories of having him and being so happy with him and Rio came flooding back. Before she could even start crying about it again she heard a knock at her door. Swiftly she closed the door to go see who could be at her front door at this hour. “What” she stated annoyingly as she opened the door. What she didn’t expect was to see Rio, clearly holding something behind her back. “Did you know that it is a universally acknowledged truth that a lady cop cannot be good at her job and have a healthy personal life at the same time?” Rio stated, showing the pizza box she had hidden behind her back. “Hungry?” she questioned.

Agnes doesn’t know why but she let Rio in. At first it was awkward but after a couple beers and some pizza it was like they had never left each other. Rio couldn’t help but stay longer than she wanted to and next thing they’re having more beers and sitting in Agnes’s living room. Agnes sighs and continues her story “So she’s a rookie, granted, but I say to her, “Has the suspect been seen in the last 24 hours?” And she says, “Only on TikTok.” And then I say, “Well, did you learn anything?” And she says, “That I was totally using the wrong foundation brush.”” Agnes says laughing at her own story. Rio laughs along with her but can’t help but be enamored by Agnes, all these years later and she still feels the same way around her. She should equally be upset at Agnes like she is at her for leaving her all those years ago but she never could. She could never hate Agnes, she could only love her. While Agnes is still chuckling she hands Rio another beer and takes a sip. “I have a lead in the case.” Agnes states after a bit of silence. “That’s not why I came over.” Rio stated, trying to see if she could get her to break. After a bit of silence Rio gave up and said “But go ahead.” ”There was a car wreck, about an hour before time of death.” stated Agnes, not ready to face the actual topic of Rio yet.“Where?” Rio questioned, remembering she had an actual job to do sometimes. “Eastview.” “Eastview? See, I thought you turned into a pumpkin that far afield” stated Rio, knowing how much Agnes hated traveling and loved staying in her small town. “Hey, I travel. I’m worldly.” stated Agnes, knowing that it was a full on lie. Rio couldn’t help but chuckle, knowing that Agnes was bullshitting and just had to call her out on it, “Where have you traveled?” Agnes knew she was fucked and couldn’t say anything, Rio had gotten her this time. While Rio enjoyed moments like this, she couldn’t help feel a bit bad for Agnes and changed topics, “Okay, so what about the car wreck?” “Bloodstain in the back seat.” “You think that’s how they moved her?” “Front two airbags deployed.” “Maybe two perps?” “Maybe” Agnes said with a sigh, she knew there was more to it but didn't know what. “But you don’t like it” said Rio, still able to read Agnes like the back of her hand. “My gut tells me they’re related, but I can’t shake this feeling I’m seeing it wrong” said Agnes, still unsure of what she’s suppose to be seeing. “Can I ask you something?” asked Rio, unable to control herself anymore. “Yeah.” said Agnes without really thinking, she was still too focused on the case. “Do you remember why you hate me?” asked Rio holding eye contact. “No” replied Agnes almost instantly. “Are you hiding evidence?” she asked. “No” replied Agnes again almost instantly. “Well, you’re only lying to yourself.” stated Rio, taking another sip of her beer. “What do you-” before Agnes could finish asking her question she heard a noise coming from upstairs. She got up after she heard another rumble and checked her bedrooms upstairs. That’s when she saw the precipitator, “HEY! FREEZE!” she yelled and ran to get them but they escaped from the window. If there’s one thing Agnes wasn’t, it was a pussy so she said fuck it and went through the window. Only problem is that she wasn’t as in shape as she used to be and when getting down from the roof to follow her perp, she ended up slipping from the roof gutter. She didn’t care though, she got up and continued on foot to follow them. Luckily Mrs. Hart was driving and had almost hit them which gave Agnes enough time to get them while they were down and arrest them.

Agnes took him to the station but not without calling in Rio. Agnes doesn’t know why she called her and Rio doesn’t know why she actually showed up but here they both were. At one point in time this was how the two of them were, good cop bad cop. Well in reality, two bad cops just one was psychological and the other was your typical mean cop. “Well, he won’t give his name and he’s not in the system.” Agnes told Rio looking at them through one way glass. “First offense. He take anything from your place?” Rio asked, still not sure why she showed up for this. “No, but not for lack of trying. I think it’s time for a good old fashioned chat with Edward Scissorhands in there.” Agnes said ready to go and do her “bad cop”. “Go get your perp.” said Rio looking to the side, trying to suppress the feelings of old times she was having. Agnes stood there for a minute also reminiscing on themselves before nodding and heading in to get her perp.

“So I’m curious.What compelled you to break into the home of a decorated detective?” Agnes asked as she leaned back on the door. “When you say “decorated”, do you mean suspended without pay?” The teen boy asked while Agnes gave him a pointed look. “Yeah, I know who you are.” He said not caring what Agnes would do to him. “Let’s talk about you, then, you little dirtbag. Is B&E your regular gig?” said Agnes, still trying to put her best bad cop. “Hmm? ‘Cause you’re crap at it.” she said as she walked around the table.”What were you looking for in my house?” Agnes said while putting her files down on the table. “The respect of your peers and a fulfilling home life.But you were fresh out of both.” said the teen boy but was almost immediately on the ground after saying so. Agnes didn’t care anymore about keeping it tamed, she kicked his chair under. Rio grunted, knowing that this would happen and knocked on the glass giving Agnes a finger wave, she knew she always found it cute when she did that. Rio had always been the one who grounded Agnes when she got fired up, she always knew just what to do or say. Agnes put her hands up as an apology and let the teen get back in his chair. “See…The things that you’re roasting me for are the things that make me dangerous.” Agnes told the teen, which was very much the truth. Ever since losing Nicholas and leaving Rio, Agnes didn’t have anyone to control her, which is what led to her small suspension. She was now an untamed fire that stopped caring about anyone and everything. If anything the teen was lucky that Rio was there or else the situation would have taken a whole other turn. “So you wanna keep poking the bear?” Agnes asked him, giving the teen an intense stare that he could not look back to. He was finally intimidated by the detective and Agnes could tell. Her bad cop was finally working.”Good. Now…What were you after?” she asked, wanting to get this over. “I don’t know” he said unsure why he was doing what he was doing. “New question. Where were you last night between the hours of 1:00 and 3:00 a.m.?” she asked not satisfied with his answers. “Asleep. In bed.” the teen told her honestly. “Asleep in bed.” she repeated while writing on a note pad. “Total LOSER? OR TOTALLY LYINGGGG, LET’S FIND OUT” she yelled while overexatrally writing everything on a note pad.”What do you know about this, huh?” she asked, showing him pictures of the body of the jane doe. “Nothing. Nothing!” He yelled looking at the pictures. “Tell me who she is!” Agnes demanded, now getting tired of his incorporation. “What are you talking about? These are just flowers!” He exclaimed, still not sure what she wanted from him. “What?” Anges asked, taken aback from his response.

“They’re just pictures of someone’s front yard or something” He explained, still not sure what answer she would want from him. Agnes looked down, she brought the wrong pictures. She had such a mess of files that she fucked up and brought the wrong pictures. “You got to be fucking kidding me” she exclaimed as she left the interrogation room. “You really got him right where you want him, don’tcha tiger” Rio told her just to tease her a little bit.” Don’t even start right now Vidal” sighed Agnes, still embarrassed from what happened. “Just let the kid go for now Agnes, I really don’t think he’s one of the perps sweetheart” Rio told Agnes, hoping the endearment would calm her down. Agnes sighed, still angered she knew Rio was right, Rio was always right. “Why don’t we let him go, I drive him home and then I’ll take you home, that sound good?” Rio asked in a soft tone that Agnes hadn’t heard in a while, god how she missed this. “Yeah, that sounds good, lemme let him out” Agnes said with her eyes closed, still taking in the whole situation. Agnes went back into the interrogation room “Alright, you’re free to go, Agent Vidal and I will be giving you a ride home, I know you didn’t want to give me your name but maybe you’ll want to give it to Agent Vidal” Agnes told him, holding the door open. ‘What?!? But I- I broke into your home! You chased me and everything?!” He asked in total shocked, ready to be stuck in a jail cell for the night. “Yeah well, I changed my mind, consider this a warning especially since you're a minor” Agnes said not looking at him. “Thank you, you’re not as bad as people say in this town” He said getting up and out of the room.

The car ride was awkward to say the least. After dropping off the teen the car was as silent as could be. Rio pulled up to Agnes house, unsure what to say. “Th-”said Agnes “I-” Rio interrupted, making them both shut up. “You go first, I’m sorry” said Rio. “Thanks for everything Rio. I uh, I missed this” Agnes said, not able to face Rio. Agent Vidal couldn’t help herself and touched Agnes hair, causing Agnes to moan. Agnes couldn’t help herself and turned back towards Rio and hugged her tight as she could. The both of them had been longing for each other’s touch since they saw each other. However, neither of them wanted to be the first one to break. Agnes pulled back and cradled Rio’s face, she noticed her lipstick had slightly smudged and fixed it with her thumb. She couldn’t stop herself anymore, she caved. Agnes moved in and kissed Rio, fuck their stupid game. She didn’t care anymore about not giving in, she broke. After a while they separated. “Stay the night, please” Agnes asked just above a whisper. “Of course” Rio responded, she couldn’t say no to Agnes, she never could.

[the-broken-truth]

A Father's Son [Part 3] - Miguel O'Hara w/ Teenage Spider Son Reader

Summary: I gathered my personal documents and the Sleeper Symbiote given to me by my mother, and made my way to The Spider-Society for the final time. Using the Gizmo Watch, I teleported to Earth-121, a world where neither I nor Sleeper existed. Here, I began my new life, only to unexpectedly encounter someone I never thought I'd see again.

Taglist: @christinesdemoness1958

[Earth-928 / Spider-Society / Main Hub]

My fingertips touched the surface of Miguel's Research Tablets, the information I was seeking was right before me but I needed time to look through it all. He made notes on possible locations for finding Orphaned Versions of my Late Sister, Gabriella, but there was something preventing him from collecting her in each world. That's when my eyes locked with the keywords of Earth-121:

Critical Notes: The Boy doesn't exist in this universe nor does any other Spider-Person, it would be a waste of time to look in this universe for a replacement of Gabriella.

'Perfect.' I thought as I lifted my Gizmo Watch to my face and locked in the coordinates and waited before the red glitching portal appeared before me. I took an exhale before I stepped into the portal and went through the flow of the portal's pull before I reappeared on the other side - standing on the building of newspaper building. I slid the Gizmo Watch off my wrist and placed it on the ground before I stomped on it, shattering it into pieces. I looked at the place around me before I used the ladder on the side to reach the alley to the side of the building. First things first - I needed to make a residence for myself. Hopefully, they had some move-in on the same-day apartments.

[About 3 Hours Later]

"So, you've moved from overseas where your parents live and came to New York for a new life of your own. Aren't you kind of young to make that choice of your own?" The Apartment Manager asked as we walked to my new apartment unit with a clipboard to her chest and the keys to the apartment connected to the clipboard.

"I was sick of living with my parents, they were too...divided and they expected me to always break up their fights, so I decided to leave and have my life as my own," I said as I followed her with my hands in my pockets.

"That's an understanding path to take, young man; hopefully you will have a better life here. Now, allow me to tell you the rules: There really aren't any rules in this unit but as long as you don't take anything that isn't yours, you won't have any issues with your neighbors. You can have parties if you want but please keep in mind that there are elderly people that live on this floor. Your rent is due every month on the 4th but you paid for your rent for 5 months so you're good." We stopped at the door as she took the keys off the board and held them out to me. "Here are your keys and please enjoy your stay with us."

"Thank you, Madame," I said as I took the keys, opened the door, and walked inside - it was bare but it was finally mine. I better go get some new furniture.

[Another Hour Later]

"Okay, so that's the sofa, loveseat, armchair, rug, coffee table, and bedroom set for delivery. Is there anything I am missing?" The Seller asked as he looked at you with a smile on his face.

"No, that's everything. Now, how much is the first installment and delivery fee?" You ask as you reached into your pocket and pulled out your debit card before handing it to the man, he pressed the price into the machine before sliding the card, and the signal light lit up, showing that the payment went through before he handed you the card and the receipt into your hands.

"Okay, we'll deliver it at the end of the day when the traffic isn't so bad." The Seller said.

"Perfect. I can go do some grocery shopping before heading back home. See you later, sir." You said as you waved your hand at him before placing your card back in your wallet.

"Something is amiss," Sleeper said from the depths of your mind.

"What makes you say that, Sleeper?" You ask as you looked around to see anything wrong when you took a deep breath through your nose and the scent of blood in your nose, running, you found yourself in an alleyway with a single body in it - a young girl with long brown hair and her eyes closed as she cried - she had scratches on her body, somewhere still leaking blood; she looked like she had been in a fight and ran away with no shoes on. Honestly, she looked like you but as a female.

"Hey, are you alright?" You asked as you walked over to her - she jumped in fear and looked at you with her brown eyes - eyes that you were too familiar with.

'Gabriella. She's in this world too. But, what does she look so...hurt?"' You thought as you kneeled before and looked at her with your tender brown eyes.

"Hey, it's okay, I'm not going to hurt you. My name is [Name]. What's your name and why are you in this alley?" You asked the girl as she wiped the tears from her eyes.

"My...My name is Gabriella and I was bullied by some kids in my former neighborhood for not having parents or siblings." The girl - Gabriella - said as she hugged her knees to her chest.

"What happened to your parents?" you asked her

"Father died a long time ago but my mother ran away with another man after he died I was living in our old apartment until the landlord made me leave. I've been living on the streets since.

"Gabriella...would you like to live with me and I could be your elder brother?" You asked her as you held your hand out to her, "I can't be your father but your eyes remind me of a sister that I lost a long time ago. I would give you shelter, food, water, clothes, and the love of a brother. Do you accept?"

Gabriella looked at your hand before looking into your eyes and reached for your hand before nodding. You rose to your feet and pulled her off the ground before picking her up and walking out of the alley with your new little sister. You knew that since you didn't exist in this universe to begin with, it wouldn't cause a collapse; Miguel's Notes were helpful, in some way.

"Are you sure you want to do this, Partner?" Sleeper asked from the depths of your mind.

'I'm not going to leave her alone in this world, if I can help her, I will; what kind of big brother would I be if I didn't?' You asked Sleeper.

"Makes sense, let's hope O'Hara doesn't come to this universe." Sleeper said before saying, "I'm hungry, when can I eat some bad people?"

'Tonight. We'll go on patrol tonight.' You thought while carrying a sleeping Gabriella back to your home.

[ramblesbiab]

i desperately need to be the leader of a human uprising against a world which has been largely overtaken by robots and there's one specific robot girl who's a prominent leader in the robot forces. She hates me, I hate her, and years go by as we keep fighting each other. I think we're getting closer, we have to be. We can't let those things win.

Then, finally, it comes. Our largest scale attack. We charge, all at once, on the largest base of operations for the robots, running on adrenaline and hope, desperate, desperate hope, for the future of humanity.

And they obliterate us. They obliterate me, leaving me bloody and barely alive, lying on the battlefield knowing we'd failed. Then, a figure stands over me, and as I blackout, I can feel myself being picked up.

When I wake up, something feels wrong. I'm in pain, sure, but not nearly enough for the abuse I just took, and I assume I must be dead. Then I see her. The robot girl leader, at a work table across the room. Humming a softly digital tune to herself, until I make the surface I'm on creak and she startles.

She explains that I was in critical condition. That I was going to die if I didn't have parts of me replaced, so she did it. I can't think about the disgust of being part machine now from the sheer surprise that she - helped me? My worst enemy saved my fucking life?!

Like she's reading my thoughts, she snaps at me to shut up before I can ever say anything. It's unclear what happens next. If I can leave, if the other robots know I'm here. If her goal is to torture me, so dying wasn't an option, or if there's some other strange reason she wants me alive.

I spend a few unbearably contentious nights in the workshop I woke up in, sleeping on the same table my operation took place. Feeling the machines moving inside me so unnaturally every time I close my eyes. She keeps not saying anything, only giving me glances from the side, not saying I can go but not telling me to stay, either.

One day, I move closer to her worktable. Watching the way her robotic fingers move with such grace. It's mesmerizing.

She finally speaks up to tell me it's rude to stare. But I keep watching, and she does nothing to prevent it. I swear there's a soft smirk on those grey lips of hers.

It's odd to me, how I know what she's working on. About all the devices she's always tinkering with, from all the observing I did while planning the uprising. I know so much about a robot woman I've yet to have a conversation with, at least one that wasn't yelled over the sounds of gunfire and explosions.

I can't bear the silence, nor the occasional sarcastic remarks. So I crack. "What are we?" I ask after another few days. She freezes perfectly in place, or so I think, until I notice the shake to her hand, such an oddly human response to the question. More human then most of the monsters who were willing to join my uprising.

"I'm still figuring that out," she whispers. She goes back to work. After a few minutes, she starts to hum, like I'm not here. Or - like it's okay that I'm here. I let a smile creep onto my face.

We're getting somewhere.

( if it's not obvious this is very inspired by portal 2 and also this portal 2 fanfic: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/8896805/27/Of-Robots-and-Women )

[ninthhousedyke]

Arcane Season 2 Final Thoughts (Spoilers)

I adore this series. This series has single handedly filled a hole in my life for media that does everything I have ever wanted: hot women, complex villains, morally grey characters, dynamic and powerful worldbuilding, emotional moments that sit in my chest, animation too powerful to comprehend. I have loved and obsessed over this series for years and I am so sad to see it go. I have been introduced to the world of Runeterra and have fallen down the rabbit hole of League of Legends lore and I am so grateful to the series for introducing me to this new fandom.

That being said, I was let down by episodes 8 and 9 of season two. Episode 9 primarily. These are some thoughts I have based on my watch, but I want to make it clear that I have not rewatched in-depth just yet. These are all preliminary feelings that I had. Overall, I do not find that two poorly executed episodes tarnish the overall quality of this show, which did so much so well, but I do think that dropping the ball on these final episodes will leave a displeasing taste in my mouth about the series going forward. I know the writers were excited to move on to new areas in the world, and I’m excited to see what they do next as I am manifesting Riven in an upcoming Noxus show, but I think they lost sight of how best to wrap up what they were doing in Arcane.

Episode 7 was fantastic, no notes.

Episode 8 had many incredible moments and for the most part was fine. The ending scene with Viktor as the Twenty-One Pilots song plays was jaw-dropping!!! I have opinions on the CaitVi sex scene because I think it could have been done better, but I will write fanfiction about it and everything will be fine. No one wants my whole thesis on that skdhsgd.

I think when Jayce rallies Piltover and Zaun to fight against Viktor and Ambessa, there should have been more discussion on what Zaun gets in return for helping. I think this would have been a good moment for Sevika to get actual fucking lines and negotiate for independence as the price of Zaun’s aid. This would have made her becoming the de facto head of Zaun more explicitly understood, and would have paralleled when Jayce made the initial deal for independence with Silco in season 1.

Episode 9 was just weird. Viktor as the mage that saved Jayce as a kid? No. No that’s not what happened actually. Ekko using time travel but the time travel really not doing anything for the plot? How could you do that to my boy?? Viktor not being evil anymore by the power of homoerotic friendship? I’m sure the JayVik shippers are happy but that’s definitely not it. Maddie as a Noxus spy? Guys you killed her a second later, what was the point of that? We don’t even get an explanation as to what the fuck was up there.

In my opinion, Ambessa and Caitlyn should have had the chance to fight for real. Not when Caitlyn is injured and not with Mel assisting. A genuine duel between these two women in front of the crowd with stakes on the line (maybe Ambessa uses Vi’s life as a bargaining chip?). When Ambessa gets the upper hand and everything is about to go to shit, then Mel steps in and we get mage duel and the death of Ambessa. Followed by the realization Viktor has used this as the distraction to get inside the hex gates. Jayce and Viktor get their epic battle and Jayce kills him, with or without his own sacrifice. I think either option would have been good.

(Side note: full Machine Herald Viktor was jaw-dropping. They ate that shit up for real.)

Rather than Jinx “sacrificing herself” she could simply save Vi from Warwick and they both can mourn together the true loss of Vander. Jinx tells Vi she knows that together all they do is cause each other pain and maybe its best if they go their separate ways. They get a final sister hug and a promise to be there if the other ever needs it. Jinx leaves with Ekko (Timebomb shippers can be happy) and Vi returns to Caitlyn. We end with that beautiful speech from Caitlyn about the stories not being over and the image of everyone’s papers burning off into the sky.

Am I….gonna write an entire fix-it for the last two episodes? Oh God….I’m gonna write an entire fix-it for the last two episodes.

Alright yeah, those are my thoughts. I want to reiterate that this show means the world to me. My current WIP is shamelessly inspired by Arcane and I cannot thank this show enough for everything it has done for me. I think this is a solid 4.5/5 star series, and you can’t get everything right. I don’t blame the writer’s too much; they’re human too.

At the end of the day, this fandom will come together to do exactly what Arcane has told us to do: tell our own stories and make better futures for everyone.

[angelagiarratana]

Ultraviolent pt. II

Angsty, tears, no more because spoilers!!

Angela looked from Chanse to you, “Um? The roommate?” You didn’t know what to say or do. Her presence alone was enough to overwhelm your senses, “Uh- I um- Listen-” Angela looked at you with a glint of hope in her eyes and it was absolutely gut-wrenching. The pain spread from your heart to your head. You blinked a few times to ground yourself, and your silence made Chanse step away and Angela start fidgeting with her fingers and looked at the ground. “Angela, can we talk?” Angela didn’t look at you but nodded. She headed towards the door and you followed silently, eyes focused on the back of head in case she ran this time. She pushed open the door to an office and clicked on a sound machine outside the door. You awkwardly slid past her through the doorway and found a place that felt good enough to stand in. The office was empty, a desk, a chair, a wire pen cup and nothing else. Angela shut the door and didn’t move any closer. 

Angela found a spot on the floor, pulled her legs to her chest, took a deep breath and opened the letter. Ripping open the envelope in a way that preserved her name in your hand writing. “My Dearest Angela, 

I write this with great regret and dread. You have been a light in my life through the darkest, coldest days. You warmed my heart with your smile, sent shivers down my spine with your words, and oh do you shine. You’re such a star.” Angela looked away from the letter to look at the bright pink sticky note above her bed. ‘You gonna be a star - y/n’ She gasped back a sob. 

“The world spins for you my dear, at least my world does. But it needs to spin for me. My love for you is so all consuming that I cannot love you, and take care of myself. I love you in the way I would skip class everyday to lay with you. I would sell all my belongings to pay for your bail. I love you in the way that makes me want to work a blue collar job to pay for your every want and need.” 

You took a deep, ragged breath, and pulled your sleeves over your hands. Angela spotted it and knew you were nervous, she remembered that tell from your Chemistry final sophomore year. You stayed up all night studying, quietly whispering formulas to yourself. Angela stayed up to listen to the way you processed information. She swallowed hard, “Y/n you wrecked me.” Tears formed in both of your eyes and Angela started pacing. “For so long I laid awake at night waiting for you to come home. To text me, call me, hell even like my Instagram post, but you never did.” Angela put her hands on her hips and took another deep breath, trying to remember what her therapist said. You went to speak up, “Ang-” “No. I have waited almost 9 years to say all of this to you.” Angela spoke in a tone that didn’t match how much love that was swirling in her gaze at you. You put your hands by your side and nodded, “To just leave? After I told you I loved you is fucked up,” She stuttered as if she was choking on saying your name so rudely, “Y/n.” She looked at the wall, “I’m sorry, that was rude.” 

Angela wiped snot from her face with her sleeve and then turned the page, “I don’t think you deserve the pain I know this will cause, but I have no choice. If I had you in any capacity you would consume my entire being and soul. God Angela I just melt into you in a way that is so vulnerable and warm. It’s honestly disgusting.” Angela giggled knowing you hated being cheesy and kept all your ushy gushy inside. You saying it to her made the pain worse for a couple moments. “I hope one day you can forgive me for this. I cleaned the whole place before I left. I even washed your dishes. They’re drying on your desk.” She peeked over the paper and saw the spotless mirror, freshly vacuumed rug and the pile of clean dishes. “I also stocked the coffee. Please take care of yourself, you deserve the best treatment from people, including yourself. Thank you for being my best friend. Stay loud, stay loving, and stay hopeful. Good luck with the rest of school. I hope you can forget me.

        Dreadfully, 

       Y/n” 

Angela threw the paper down and collapsed into sobs. She only moved to quickly reach up and grab the shirt you borrowed from her she slid under her pillow last night. She fell back to the floor, held the shirt in her arms and inhaled your scent. How dare you even suggest she could forget you? Angela didn’t move the rest of the night except when she sobbed. Her body jerking with every single one until she fell asleep.

You stepped closer to her, “No, be mean. I deserve it.” She snapped her head at you, “No you don’t.” You sighed, “Anglea I- I did something so awful to you.” Angela took a half step to you, “That doesn’t mean you deserve for me to be rude to you.” Angela shook her head, “I am really mad at you. God I thought I wasn’t anymore.” That stung, deep down. Angela looked at the door, back towards you. You started biting at your thumb nail and sighed deeply, attempting to purge the agony in your chest. You wanted to lump in your throat gone, because you would not cry right now. Angela took two breaths; one shallow and breathy, another deep and agonizing. Tears pricked at your eyes, guilt overwhelming you from head to toe. You disassociated eyes on the floor, teeth still working at your thumbnail. You were quickly spiraling. Angela swore the hair on the back of her neck stood up, she could sense your emotional state, even after all this time. She turned around and quickly made her way to you. She pulled your hand from your face, “Y/n?” You snapped back to the present, pain filled eyes meeting her concerned gaze. She didn’t drop your hand, it rang like a bell in your brain. She didn’t drop your hand. “Are you okay?” She looked at all your features, “I’m okay.” It came out sounding more weak than you wanted. She raised an eyebrow at you and tilted her head, “Y/n/n,” The second the nickname left her lips a sob escaped your lips, legs going limp. Angela grabbed your hips to catch you and she paused for a second, awkwardly holding you up before acting on instinct. 

Angela spent the next week feeling awful. She was silent in class, couldn’t get through a voice lesson without tearing up, and spent her time in bed. The same shirt waiting for her when she got out of class. She forced herself to eat, drink water and go to class because she knew you would be pissed if she didn’t. The clock hit 3:30 pm and Anglea immediately started packing up the empty piece of paper titled ‘Notes’. She didn’t hear a word her professor said and she didn’t care. Angela shoved her laptop in her bag and practically ran out of the building. The idea of running into a friend of yours of hers was her worst nightmare. Someone seeing the bags under her eyes, the sadness that swam in her eyes and dulled her skin. Stepping into the sun she took a deep breath and momentarily felt the warmth on her skin. “Fuck!” The exclamation pulled her out of the sun and into the now. She looked up to see you across the road picking up the books you were carrying. The world stopped moving and all of the sadness Anglea had shoved down for class came bubbling up and out. She took off running, down the sidewalk and into her dorm. Immediately finding your shirt and falling to the ground. 

Angela pulled your head to her chest as you sobbed, mumbled barely audible, “I’m sorry”s until Angela swore you would forget how to say any other word. She stroked your head and shushed you. Her heart was pounding out of her chest. The years of yearning and pain and hope were finally hitting her too. Truthfully, she wasn’t mad at you anymore. She just missed you. You pulled away from her, wiped your face and took a step back. Putting a weird amount of space between the two of you. Angela looked at you with a small smile, and it took you aback. “Why are you smiling?” Angela stepped back into your space, her face inches from yours. Her left hand finds your arm, drawing lazy circles on it. You were so bamboozled by her reaction that you didn’t move, “I just missed you.” You huffed, not satisfied, “What do you mean by that?” Angela giggled, her second hand falling onto your hip. “You're supposed to be mad at me, storm out, let me hurt like I hurt you. I don’t understand why you’re not mad at me?” Your voice was full of genuine confusion, Angela found it endearing. She got impossibly more into your personal space and whispered, “Y/n just admit you're happy I’m not doing that.” She spoke like it was a fact, there was no denying it, and she was absolutely correct. 

Your mouth opened and shut, no words coming out, Anglea had enough. “If you don’t fucking kiss me I’m going to change my mi-” She was happily interrupted by your lips on hers and your arms thrown around her neck. She pulled you closer into her by your hip, her grip tightening. It sent a shock down your spine and you shivered. Angela giggled against your lips before biting your bottom lip. You pulled away and stared into her eyes, “Angela I love you.” She beamed at you in the most adorable way possible before speaking, “I love you too Y/n.” She kissed your forehead and rested her chin on your cheek. “I guess this means you can have your Fleetwood Mac shirt back.” She spoke so casually and you pulled away from her in shock, “You still have my fucking shirt?” You yelled and smacked her arm. She laughed and jumped back, “It’s still on my bed.” The amount of happiness and love that coursed through your veins at the notion made you feel dizzy. A knock on the door ruined the moment and Anglea swallowed before opening it. A very nervous Chanse stood on the other side, “Is everything okay?” Angela nodded and you giggled. Chanse sighed in relief and put his hand on his forehead, “Thank fuck.” Angela laughed, and you joined her at the door. Her hand slid into your back pocket forcing you to slightly turn towards her. Chanse immediately clocked the body language and smiled, “Well when you two lovebirds are ready, Arasha wants to meet you Y/n.” You nodded and pulled away from Angela and followed him to the kitchen. Angela did a happy dance when you were out of sight and high-fived herself before leaving the office.

[juju-or-anya]

Season one from Eloise’ perspective must have been so scary. Imagine one day all of your sisters are children (the concept of teenagers being separate from children comes in the 20th century) and the next your older sister is in the marriage mart. The marriage mart was never a tangible thing to you before because your brothers do not have the same pressure to marry. But now your sister will soon have a different name. She will move away. She may marry someone awful who uses her as a baby machine until she dies. And all you can think about is your mother almost dying in childbirth. Then your brother arranges her marriage with some old creep. And when that is finally over a prince starts courting her and he might take her to another country entirely. I just don’t get people who say she was being a brat. As if they wouldn’t be scared and emotional.

Additionally, it is crucial to remember that young women like Eloise and Daphne were kept completely in the dark about fundamental aspects of adult life, such as marriage and sexuality. This lack of information and preparation not only exacerbates their fears and sense of vulnerability, but also leaves them defenseless against the challenges the future holds. Education on these topics was practically nonexistent, and open dialogue was virtually unheard of. These young women were thrust into an unknown world without the necessary tools to face it with confidence and security.

For all these reasons, it is completely unjust and simplistic to label Eloise as spoiled. Her behavior is deeply influenced by fear, concern for her sisters' well-being, and a lack of control over her own future. It is a human and understandable reaction to an overwhelming situation filled with uncertainties. Eloise not only faces fear for her sisters' well-being, but also the existential terror of an imposed and unknown future.

Moreover, Eloise is acutely aware that marriage, in many cases, means sacrificing everything she loves and everything she is for her husband. This often means giving up her freedom, her thoughts, her desires, ambitions, and passions to become the perfect wife and mother, a submissive figure to her husband. This is a daunting and suffocating prospect for a young woman with her own aspirations and dreams. The imposition of these expectations is an immense and unfair burden that obliterates any possibility of self-determination for women like Eloise.

It is truly appalling that society expects her to stop being herself to "mature" and to willingly accept a fate she sees as a gilded cage. The social pressure to conform to a role she does not want is immense, and her refusal to marry, seen as foolishness and selfishness, is actually a form of resistance against an expectation that nullifies her individuality. To dismiss her struggle and fear as a mere childish tantrum is a profound misunderstanding and lack of empathy towards her situation. It is utterly despicable to expect her to sacrifice her essence and her dreams to fit into a mold imposed by a society that does not value her true self.

For those who criticize Eloise, it is essential to remember that she lives in a society that forces her to fit into a rigid and oppressive mold. Criticizing her behavior is to ignore the immense pressures and unjust restrictions she faces. It is easy to judge from a position of privilege and freedom, but for Eloise, reality is a constant battle to maintain her identity and desires in an environment that systematically denies them. Every moment of resistance on her part is not a display of immaturity, but of incredible bravery and determination.

Furthermore, we cannot ignore that the lack of preparation and education about adult life is a deliberate strategy to keep women in a state of submission and dependency. Criticizing Eloise for reacting with fear and resistance is, in essence, supporting a system that perpetuates ignorance and oppression. It is an act of extreme cruelty to expect a young woman to meekly accept a fate that dehumanizes her and reduces her to a mere object within a marital contract.

People who dare to judge Eloise should first attempt to understand the magnitude of her struggle. It is easy to call her spoiled from the comfort of a modern context where women have more rights and freedoms. But in her time, resisting marriage and the destiny imposed by others is a sign of exceptional strength. The real foolishness and selfishness lie in those who cannot see beyond their own prejudices and understand the validity of her fears and resistances. Eloise's struggle is not just personal; it is an act of defiance against an oppressive social structure that seeks to extinguish her spirit and aspirations.

In summary, any criticism of Eloise must be reevaluated in light of a deep understanding of her context and the terrible pressures she is under. Her apparent rebelliousness is nothing more than a natural and justified response to a system that tries to strip her of her humanity and her future. Let us defend Eloise not only for what she represents but also as a symbol of all women who fight for their right to be themselves in a world that often denies them this.