#f*** you netflix

[theancientwise]

My honest and humble opinions(i don't mean to offend anyone) about the teaser trailer of "Vikings Valhalla Season 3"

Emma and Canute are the most brilliant and interesting as always. They steal every scene they are in, whether they are together or not.

Freydis is "Lagertha 2.0" more and more... and i don't mean it in a good way.

Well, Leif seems like becoming more interesting than he was in season 2. I hope they will do this character some justice.

Harald and Helena = Bjorn and Elsewith... Am i having a dejà-vu?

And the most important thing: No Harold Godwison, No Battle of Stamford Bridge, but above all, No Battle of Hastings and No William the Goddammit Conqueror.

I think this gif embodies perfectly my idea and feelings about it:

[fuusart]

CRYSTAL PALACE SURNAME-VON HOVERKRAFT

when the ground moves and the bird cries stop looking without and look within

[fortunxa]

Physical affection with Jinx

H E A D C A N O N S

╰┈➤ requested

Jinx x fem!reader

cw: mentions of nsfw, hallucinations

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Jinx is such a touch-starved girl.

She doesn’t shy away from physical contact, but paradoxically, it can catch her off-guard if she’s not the one initiating it—blame it on her childhood.

As you get to know her, start off gently with some light taps that get her attention.

She’ll often nudge your shoulder, drag her nails across your arm or leg as you’re talking, doodle on your skin, or simply grab your hand as she’s excitedly leading you somewhere.

Jinx is just so curious as to how you’d react, testing the waters.

But once you gain her trust, her innocent touches turn into proper hugs. And I don’t mean duvet-like embraces that let you breathe, but cocoon ones where you can feel every ounce of her as she holds you tightly.

This is the moment you realize she’s now afraid of losing you.

Those hugs come unexpectedly, like a predator pouncing on its prey, and you often stumble from her sheer force.

She’s definitely a waist/torso hugger, and believe it or not, it’s not because of her height but because she genuinely feels safer that way.

Shoulder hugs are traps, so be prepared for a paint bomb to find itself attached to your back.

She will be impressed if you can throw her over your shoulder.

Loves piggyback rides.

Pinky promises. It’s a childish gesture but one that holds enormous significance to her. She would link her finger with yours with those wide, innocent eyes. No take-backs.

– “You know that’s legally binding, right?”

If you’re her first kiss—which, let’s be honest, you probably are—her Jinx persona is nowhere to be found. It’s Powder now, and she’s so cautious as she closes the distance.

Her lips ghost over yours so lightly it almost tickles, but you let her take her time as she grapples with the newfound closeness. You don’t rush her, and when she finally kisses you, it’s slow and tentative. She wants to feel and analyze everything.

– “Was that good?”

As she gains confidence, she starts experimenting with the mix of sensations.

She’s attentive to your reactions, and she soon finds all of your sweet spots.

Will randomly kiss you, and it doesn’t matter where or when.

Forehead kisses, kisses on your neck, earlobes, stomach, hips, thighs… You name it. She adores every single one of them.

She’s the type to swap a piece of candy or gum through a kiss.

Jinx is all about PDA. She wants everyone to know you’re hers.

Hickeys, hickeys, and more hickeys.

Unfortunately, when the wrong people figured out that you’re her partner, it did get you kidnapped once as a way to undermine Silco. Take Jinx’s favorite person away, and she becomes erratic, unfit to carry out his plans.

Heavy on ‘once’ because the hell she brought them was enough to terrify anyone else with the same strategy.

The number of explosions that day alerted Piltover itself.

Talking to Silco and/or Sevika? She’s holding your hand, slightly pushing you behind her in a protective manner. Neither of them approves of your relationship, they deem it a distraction.

Much to Silco’s dismay, she will drag you into most of their private meetings and fidgets with your fingers if she gets bored.

You’re ordering at the bar? She’s either behind you with her arms around your waist or next to you with her hand on your hip as she’s pulling you closer.

You’re on a mission together? There she is, fighting back-to-back with you so she knows you’re there, unharmed. If you’re separated, she can’t concentrate properly anymore, and she keeps seeking you out in between firing her gun. She’s prioritizing your safety over anything else, which has gotten her injured quite a few times.

She insists that she can patch up her wounds herself, but once you see that goddamn stapler approaching a gash, you’re frantically snatching it away from her hands.

You tend to her injuries in such a caring and gentle way that it brings tears to her eyes.

At first, you’re worried you went too deep with the needle as you were stitching her cuts.

– “What’s wrong? Did that hurt? I’m so sorry–”

– “No one has ever done that for me before.”

Whenever the roles are reversed, and you’re the injured one, she’s in a frenzy. She’s muttering to herself as she grabs the first aid kit.

Stern face and furrowed brows, but despite it all, she tries to be delicate—‘tries’ because the voices are making her movements jerky.

– “Are you crazy?! What were you thinking? No, no, she wasn’t thinking at all…”

She will absolutely kiss your wound better afterward.

Cuddle time on her couch after a long day.

She loves it when you sweep her off her feet and carry her bridal style to lay her down.

She likes to be the little spoon but face toward you because your scent and the sound of your heartbeat calm her down.

Occasionally, she’ll be the big spoon to switch it up and make you feel secure, too.

Your presence helps with her night terrors, and she sleeps more often with you around.

But you always wake up with her hair in your mouth, her elbow on your face, and covers on the ground, and she’s snoring—occasionally drooling—in a starfish position.

– “Where the fuck did your pillow go?”

Morning kisses!!!

Morning sex.

Showering and taking baths together.

Hygiene isn’t a big thing in Zaun (shocker), so when you have time to get clean, you do it together. Washing each other’s hair, trying to get all the grime—and occasionally blood—out.

It’s a tender moment that turns entertaining—or sexual—rather quickly.

You’re washing off, and you turn around to see Jinx with a bubble beard, her face completely stoic. She starts pretending to be a Piltovan man as you’re laughing.

Or she’ll come up behind you and press her soapy body to yours as her fingers dip inside you.

Physical affection while she’s working on a project can go two ways:

When she’s confident in her work: She loves having you close, whether it’s by having you sit on her lap and vice versa or grabbing your hands for an impromptu dance break when she’s feeling her playlist. She’s babbling about her ideas and designs, explaining each step as you play with her braids.

When she’s experimenting: Do not come close or she’ll scream. She’ll be too scared to have you near in case she messes up an equation and causes an explosion. She will actually make you go elsewhere as a precaution. But she’ll be more than happy to show you her progress after!

You love painting each other’s nails, but she often chips hers.

She straddles you as she does your makeup and vice versa.

Will use her own saliva to clean up any messes.

Jinx absolutely adores trying out new looks on you, and she treats you like her human canvas.

Not only with makeup but with markers and paint, too.

She will draw out tattoo ideas and judge each placement.

Speaking of tattoos, you constantly trace hers with a light touch that sends shivers down her spine.

Brushing and playing with each other’s hair. She actually melts in your hands once you take her braids out and start massaging her scalp.

Will bite your arm out of excitement. The urge to chomp is just too great.

You comfort her differently depending on how bad her episode gets:

You either hold her impossibly close, hiding her face in your chest as you stroke her hair and start humming or talking about something she loves to ground her.

If she gets to a point where you can’t even approach without her backing away—or worse, getting violent—you dim every bright light and reduce any other stimuli. You don’t call her by her name—neither Jinx nor Powder—as both can trigger her even more. She will use some of her bombs to try and muffle the voices with the sounds of explosions, but you do hide any other weapons. You don’t talk too much or too loudly to not confuse her even more. Once she’s calm enough, it’s back to scenario number 1.

You’re both crying by the time her episode ends.

– “Please… Tell me you’re real.”

Jinx is so in tune with your emotions, and contrary to popular belief, she’s very empathetic.

She notices any tone or mood changes immediately.

If you’re mad at something or someone, she’ll be mad with you, if not even madder. You have her unconditional support because her trinket can do no wrong. She’s tracing her nails down your back or stroking your thigh as you’re rambling.

– “And then Sevika called me incompetent. Can you fucking believe it? How was I supposed to know that they put the shimmer there?!”

– “Sevika’s a bitch. That barrel was totally in your way.”

If you’re mad at her, she’ll spiral. You want to leave to cool down? Nuh-uh. She’s holding you so tightly, shaking like a leaf, that it makes your anger dissipate.

– “Don’t leave me, toots. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I’ll be better.”

If you’re sad or crying, she cups your face in her hands and makes you look at her as she praises you. She wipes every tear away. This is also the only other time she will reach for a hug over your shoulders/around your neck—no paint bombs included. She just wants to cradle your head and soothe you.

[joaniscruzing]

reuniting with jinx <3

everyone... that was quite the rollercoaster. but, i choose to believe that jinx is alive. i'm not ready to let go of arcane for a good while, and I'll do my best to upload fics more often, especially with the holiday breaks coming up too, so reel in whatever arcane requests you have! i write for vi, caitlyn, and jinx. i do take smut requests for these characters too if you guys would like to request some...

obviously though, jinx wouldn't leave without finding her amazing gf though... right??

summary: jinx surprises you while you're grieving, and you both escape and go elsewhere.

warnings: angst at the beginning, season 2 act 3 spoilers, kissing, emotional, lots and lots of fluff, I PROMISED A HAPPY ENDING AND DELIVERED

you couldn't believe it. your whole body crumbled to the ground as vi told you the devastating news.

"I'll tell you one thing," vi tried to quip, a small smile on her face, "she went out with a bang."

vi explained that she heard an explosion sound when jinx fell down the vent, and how she guessed she had set off one more bomb. you take vi close to you, hugging her tightly.

"she really did love you, you know." vi admitted, "i think she's just had a lot come her way. and i can't say I'm the most innocent in that realm myself."

you left vi to continue staring at the fireplace, about to leave and go to jinx's workshop, hoping to take a few things to remember her by. you see caitlyn looking at the vent diagram, studying it closely. how could she possibly studying the place where your beloved girlfriend died? you knew that caitlyn had grown to not hate jinx anymore, so you decided to just leave it at that.

after leaving the kiramann mansion, you traversed back to zaun, thoughts racing through your head. had you not done enough? loved her enough? given her a reason to live? you wanted to scream as loudly as you could, and let whatever you were feeling out.

you finally made it to where jinx had her things, and you took a deep breath before entering. this was it.

the once lit-up place was darker and worn-out in her eyes. the once neon, bright-colored place seemed to be dark and empty now. like you without jinx. a tear rolled down your face as you picked up small tools and things, even parts of a flower she was making for you out of scraps. you sat on the floor, looking up at the ceiling, trying to make sense in your head of what you should do next.

"did you really think i was gone, hun?" jinx questions, right behind you. your entire body leaps at the sound of her voice. it can't be.

"jinx?" you ask, shooting your head up and turning around.

"did you really think i was gonna die that easily? now stop moping. we have to get on the hot air balloon."

shocked, you hug jinx quickly before shoving one thing you collected in your pocket. you both start running. hand in hand, you make a beeline in order to get on the next hot air balloon.

"you know what i realized? things aren't so great here, so why don't i just go somewhere else to do my thing? but, i knew i couldn't leave without you." jinx explains while running.

"how did you even get out?" is the only thing you manage to say.

"my shimmer, silly! i got the hell out and escaped through the air vents."

"and how did you get back to zaun?"

"simple hacking and tweaking of the hexgates. nothing special."

you both finally make it onto the airship, jinx holding your hand as you get on so you don't fall. she closes the door behind you.

"so. this is it. any last wishes before we leave forever?"

"my biggest one has been granted," you answer before pulling in jinx for a sweet kiss. you had missed her, as you hadn't seen her for a week or two with everything going on. jinx pulls away, explaining that you two had to go.

"you know, i've always wanted to drive one of these," jinx admits, steering the ship, "i have since i was very young." you notice a new sense of peace in her eyes as she drives the ship. she doesn't seem so... tortured anymore. in fact, she seems free of any past issues.

her newly cut hair blows in the wind, as you go up behind her and hug her waist, your head resting on her shoulder. no matter what the future held, you knew you were going to be happy. as long as jinx was there, you would be at peace.

"i love you," jinx says softly, taking one hand off the wheel to rest on top of yours.

"i love you too."

[coco-cinnamon]

NEW PIERCINGS

Warnings: cursing, smut, nipple play, mentions of sex.

Pairings: JJ Maybank x Female Pogue Reader.

Summary: In which, when Y/N is sleeping over at JJ's house, she tells him that her piercings finally healed.

Author's Note: sorry this one is short.

coco-cinnamon. please do not steal, copy, modify, repost, or translate my work.

Lying beside JJ, you snuggled up to his side and looked up at him. "Mm.. Jayj?" You asked quietly.

"Yeah, cupcake?" He responded.

You sat up slowly. "I have something to tell you." You said.

JJ followed suit, sitting up and tilting his head. "Okay, what is it?"

You giggled. "It's not a big deal, but... my piercings have healed."

His grin widened. "You mean your nipple piercings?"

You smirked as you said, "Yup! Wanna see them?" his eyes lit up, and he quickly peeled your top off, discarding it on the floor. His gaze fixed hungrily on your exposed breasts, like a kid in a candy store. "Well, don't just stare," you said with a giggle, moving your hair aside. "Come on, touch them." Slowly, his hands trailed up your sides until they reached your waiting breasts.

He placed his hands on your breasts and gently squeezed. As you watched, you bit your lip. He massaged them for a moment before tugging lightly on your nipples, eliciting a gasp and whimper from you. "Fuck..." You breathed out with a sigh. JJ smirked and leaned down, taking your left nipple into his mouth. You gasped and moaned, running your fingers through his soft blonde hair as he suckled. After a few minutes, he pulled back.

He flashed a grin before moving to your right breast, drawing the hardened bud into his mouth and sucking on it. You closed your eyes, but they shot back open, and you gasped as JJ gently bit down on your nipple. He pulled back to admire your breasts, then looked up at you with a smirk. "I'm going to have so much fun with these pretty tits tonight." He said with a devilish grin.

Author's Note: tysm for reading, lovies! If you enjoyed this fic, please like and reblog to show your love <3

[creamecafe]

Fate by "Design" | Salesman x Artist!Fem!Reader

Summary: While doing art in a subway, the Salesman offers you to play Ddakji, a chance to win money. But you wanted his number. When you win, your acquaintance with the salesman becomes much more.

Pairing: Salesman x Artist!Fem!Reader

Warnings: fluff, flirting, allusions to smut/sex, but not explicit

Word Count: 2.9k

Author's Note: This was requested by Crazy4herluv on my Wattpad book Squid Game Imagines/One-Shots. This is also my first Salesman work, so I hope you enjoy!

*Icon used for this header above that I made in PicsArt is from Pinterest. Divider is from @cafekitsune in this post*

Want a request for a Squid Game character like this one? Check out my post, read my request guidelines and send a request!

Read on Wattpad & AO3 here

The sounds of the almost isolated subway and people walking is the highlight of your daily routine. You had moved to Korea to work for a art company and you do sketches by hand.

It paid very good money but in your free time you liked to be in the subway and do art for others like New York. People would walk and stop to see what you possibly could be doing.

A lot of the time, couples, parents with their kids or even old people would ask for a drawing each day and you get paid at least $130-200 at the end of the day.

Your art simply consisted of charcoal sketches of the person who requested for the art as semi-realistic as possible with a watercolor splash in the back if they ask.

Sometimes you notice while you're drawing or sketching away looking for people to draw, you would see a man in a black suit.

He had black hair and was always carrying a suitcase with him. He was also very handsome, you thought. When you took the time to actually analyze him or look at him, not in a creepy way you thought, you noticed that he would throw something on the ground and slap people.

This guy must be insane, you thought. Slapping people everyday, but it didn't stop you wondering who he really was. You thought of going up to him and asking if he would like his own portrai. But you were nervous of asking such a good looking guy and you are an artist in the subway, so he was way out of your league.

Today felt like any other day. Until one person, the guy in the black suit came up to you. You were going to pack up for the day when you accidentally dropped pencils and other supplies on the floor, then rolled around. As you were on the ground picking up the supplies, you saw polished black shoes stop and turn in front of you.

You look up and see him. The guy in the black suit looks down at you while you're trying to pick up your stuff.

"Good evening ma'am. I have a question for you."

You got up from the floor and brushed off the germs from yourself from the subway ground.

"Hello sir. I finished my hours for the day drawing so I can't accept any art requests right now I'm sorry. You could always come back tomorrow if you like."

"I'm not asking for a drawing. I'm asking if you would like to play a game."

A game? Is this guy Billy the puppet you thought?"

"What game?" You asked?

"It's called Ddakji. Have you heard of it before?"

Ddakji. It should sound familiar but you felt like you don't know it.

"I don't think so. What is it?"

"It's very simple. You fold two pieces of paper, usually of bright colors as it's a children's game like an envelope and the goal is to throw down the paper as hard as you can so the other person's paper flips over."

"What's the point of playing the game?"

"If you win, I'll give you money. A hundred thousand won."

Your eyes widened at what he said. A hundred thousand won? That amount of money to get while doing art in a subway could take a year or two. Yet here's this handsome well kept money offering to you.

"And if I lose?"

"Well usually I slap people until they win or just give up." That explains why you see this man in the subway grounds slapping people and throwing stuff down.

"But seeing how creative you are. How about a portrait of me? Use all your creativity and imagination you can and give me something."

"Ok. I'll play. But I can change something?"

"What is it?" He turns his head to express curiosity. It's rare that people would ask for a change of things while playing, conducting he's the one in charge.

"If I win, I get to have your number."

The salesman is surprised at your boldness to ask him out.

"My number? You could walk out with a hundred thousand won. What could my number offer to you?"

"Well I might see a better prize than money. I see a real piece of art right here." You raised your eyebrow smirking

He smirks at you. This was going to be interesting he thought.

"We have an agreement then?"

You nodded. "I lose, you get a portrait. But if I win..."

"You get my number." The salesman nods smiling. "Five in a row you have to win." He then pulls out two colored orgami tiles of red and blue from his suit jacket.

"What color would you like?"

"Red/blue" you said.

"Alright then. Ladies first."

You look at him and then the ground. 10 in a row you can do this. You took a deep breath and slammed the envelope on the ground. The guy then slams his envelope on the ground flipping yours around.

It created a loud slapping sound and echoed that it startled you. You look up scared he was lying to his word and might actually slap you. You close your eyes and prepare for it.

"What are you doing?" The salesman asks

"Aren't you going to slap me?"

"You don't have to worry. I wouldn't slap a pretty face like yours. I only want a drawing."

Opening your eyes you took a deep breath. At least you wouldn't be slapped.

"1-0" The guys says. You assumed that was his keeping score

You pick up your envelope and roll up your sleeve. You threw it down but it didn't flip the salesmans. He picked his up and slammed it down flipping yours again.

"2-0". Now the chances of getting this guys number seems low and you might look like a fool. You were weren't to give up just yet. You relied on your skills of carrying an easel and so many supplies per day to the game.

Taking a deep breath, you slam down the card and it flipped the guys. You were smiled wanting to jump for joy.

"2-1" You put up 2 fingers with one hand and 1 finger to the guys face.

He said nothing but smirked. Talking wasn't his thing, you noticed. Probably why you found him attractive.

The salesman picks up his card and slams it and your flips over. It was a continuous picking up and flipping cards. You were getting better as the points were getting higher.

Now the score was "7-8". You were becoming tired and kinda wish you were home right now, sleeping. But

The salesman threw down his card and flipped yours. Now it was 8-8. A tie. Just two more and you get his number. You threw yours down and it flipped over. 8-9. Another slam from the guy and it was 9-9.

This was it. You weren't sure you would have enough energy to draw that portrait of his that he wanted. But you needed enough energy to finish this game.

You slammed it down and saw it flipped over. I won, you thought to yourself. Did I actually win? You thought.

"Congratulations. You won ma'am." The salesman smiled.

Those words felt unreal. "Yes! Yes!" You jumped around happy.

"Now, you asked for my number. I suppose you wouldn't have a piece of paper to write down my number, would you?"

What kind of question was that? You were a artist. Blank papers is all you carry. You grab your sketchbook from your bag and a pen to give to him.

He took it from your hands and wrote down his number fast. He gave it back to you and you saw it.

"What do you plan to do with that number, Miss?"

"I was wondering maybe you want to go out?"

"We can do that. Can I pick the place?"

It was the least you could let him do as he offered you money and kept true to his word to give you his money.

"Sure. I'll text you when I'm available. I might see you here too. Who knows?"

He nodded your response smiling.

"You have a good day madam"

"You too" God how you loved how formal he was and calling you madam and ma'am, even though you weren't really that old.

When you went home, you were exhausted but still smiling and excited that you got the guy's number. You texted your name so he could have yours saved as well. You went to bed, wondering what it could lead to. Possibly just one date or even more.

The next day, was the same thing. Wake up, eat breakfast, pack your things and head to the subway. You kept fixing yourself up for the salesman, wondering if he would come by.

He always comes by, you thought. He just has to. You scanned around the subway to see where he is as you didn't want to move your spot. After an hour had passed, it looked like he hadn't been around.

Maybe asking for his number was a bad idea, that he was avoiding to talk to you, you thought. A man walked by and dropped something not that far from you. It looked like money. Seeing this you get up, pick up the bill and try to call out for the man. But it looked like he was already gone. It was

Written in a black permanent marker, it says “Look at your phone ma’am”. Without thinking you check your phone and see a message. Meet me at the park at 4:30 PM. No need to dress so fancy but wear something you feel pretty in.

Blinking your eyes rapidly, you couldn’t believe what’s in front of you, more likely what’s on your phone. He’s actually texting you. The weird quiet but handsome black suit guy is texting you. You packed your things and went home and went to get ready to meet him in the park.

It was nothing special that you wore. Just a simple sundress/pantsuit but it was still one of the nicest outfits you had in your wardrobe. You kept wondering just what the man in plan for you. Walking around the park, you see the man still in his suit, hands in front looking around, possibly waiting for you, you thought.

Smiling, you walk up to him. When he sees you, he smiles with no teeth but still showing joy. He reaches out a hand. Looking at it hesitantly, you took his hand. The salesman then took your hand, bowed a little and kissed the back of your hand gently. You felt your heart skipped a beat when he did that.

“Hello ma’am. We meet again.”

“Hi. Were you the person that gave me the bill?”

“Maybe, a beautiful woman like you deserves more.”

Was this a dream? Were you dreaming or is this real. This man seemed to good to be true. You two walked to what would be your first date. The place he picked out for the first date was an art museum. It displayed the finest arts across the worlds and many different paintings. The salesman would ask about each piece and how did it make you feel. You responded to many of his questions but kept looking around. You guys kept talking and asking each other questions to get more acquainted with each other.

After the museum, he took you a some place to eat. Then you guys went to get ice cream. He paid for everything and asked if there’s anywhere else you would like to go. If you tried to pull out your card or even cash to pay for your own things, he would refuse so and said he got everything and that anything you wanted he’ll get for you. It had been late, so he dropped you off home and asked how was everything and if you enjoyed it.

You couldn’t thank him enough for the wonderful day you had comparison to just drawing in a subway for hours. Before you left his car, there was a slight tension between you guys that it could be cut with a knife. The man wanted to say something else but couldn’t stop looking at your lips. Looking at him, you see his hands reach towards your face and cup it as his lips softly touches yours.

His lips were so baby smooth and his cologne was so sharp from his neck, it felt like a gas hyptonixjg you. You cup his face, grazing it with your thumb. He pulls away, still looking at you with such yearning. Your thumb still on his face grazed his lips as you said goodbye and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

Ever since that night, you two have been dating. He would take you on dates to other places. Mostly just walks in the park or art related stuff that you like. Your small kisses would turn into small makeouts into something more. He would sometimes, well mostly go over to your place and sleep over. In the mornings he would make breakfast in his underwear. You wish you could draw him right then and there.

He loves to pose for your art or whatever reference you need for your assignment in class. Once a month, he'll take you out to the art store to get whatever supplies you need. Your messy clothing consisted of paint or oil pastel stains is opposite of his clean, ironed and steamed suit. But he loves it either way.

The only time that he was out of the suit was when he was in bed with you. But other than that, you wanted him to be a bit more fun. You wanted to him have more color. Seeing those videos of online of couples doing painting of each others to see both of your art skills.

You begged the salesman to do wit you and he finally agrees. Squealing you get everything ready, canvas, paints, brushes, water and paper towels. You had 10 minutes to try to get each other’s features as accurate as possible

Time passes and both of you guys are done. You show your art of him and it’s him in his suit, pretty accurate and semi realistic but some details were missing. He nods and says it’s impressive of how much you can get done in less than hour.

You ask for his painting and he turns his Canva around and you see you in an almost renaissance like painting. Your mouth dropped and all felt like years of your art skills go away to just 10 minutes.

“What! How’s that even possible? Why didn’t you tell me you were good at art?”

“Well two people can’t be the artists in a relationship. One has to be a muse, to inspire the other.”

You scoffed at his bullshit. He just didn’t want to brag. An idea came in your mind. You grab a paintbrush and leave a stroke of red paint on his face.

“If you want to be a muse, why don’t you have some color on you?”

Smirking, the salesman takes this as a challenge and grabs his paint brush and paints across your face too.

Now you guys were having a paint battle. You tried to paint him more but he lightly grabs your arm and stops you. He leads you the floor, where he’s now on top of you. Seeing this as an opportunity, you grab a bottle of paint that’s open and smeared on his white shirt. He laughs at this and rolls you over where you’re now on top of him, straddling him.

Nothing was said between you both as you kept looking at each other. Like that night of your first date when you guys first kissed. Putting your head down you kiss him and he put his arms around on your back. The paint on your guys’ face mixed with each other. Breath was running out so you decided to stop. Your heart was beating so much just as he was trying to catch his breath too.

Now you’re forever grateful you asked for his number then taking the money. It’s a better reward than what the salesman had to offer you, as you got him, yourself. It felt like a dream come true. Even if it was, you didn’t want to wake up. Everything of being with him was like straight art. Maybe it was meant to be. That day you accidentally dropped your pencils and he came up to you. It could be called fate by others. Fate by design you like to call it.

He was right, one has to be the muse in a relationship and the other an artist. But to him, it was the thing he was missing the most. An new reason to be in the subway that fateful day.

Taglist:

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[daisesanddandelions]

Joe Goldberg x F! Reader Headcannons

A/N: these are all true idc. also sorry for ghosting yall AGAIN as well as this being short asf 😭😭 but i finally have free time to write 🙏🏻

word count- 318

-VOUYERISM. he’s canonically a major vouyerist. he loves watching you, whether that be touching yourself or you doing every day tasks, getting a shower or getting changed. scenarios go through his mind, him fucking you on the counter you’re leaning against. he’s a total perv, no matter how much he tries to convince himself he isn’t.

-CNC KINK. HEAR ME OUT. he plans every scenario as much as weeks in advance, making sure every little detail is thought out, making sure you enjoy every aspect. the ‘breaking into your house’ scenario being his favorite, reminding him of when he stalked you before you two ‘bumped into’ each other.

-SCENT KINK. he’s a canon panty sniffer. he jerks off with your underwear on this face, trying to take in your scent as much as he can. wishing it was your cunt on his face. god, how desperate and needy he gets. he’s so addicted to your scent, needing you all of the time. his vivid imagination doesn’t do anything after a while, it’s not enough.

-PRAISE KINK. joe loves praising you, worshipping you. you’re perfect, flawless in his eyes. so why wouldn’t he enjoy telling you how good of a job you’re doing? you’re his perfect pet, and he’ll remind you of it every chance he gets.

-MARKING/OWNERSHIP. he owns you and wants everyone to know. and what other way than covering your body in hickies and marks? he loves showing you off, his possession over you. he would do anything for you, he’s more than proud of your relationship.

-BREEDING KINK. he imagines the perfect white picket fence life; marriage, a house, a few kids. it’s another way to make you committed to your relationship, bound to him. fantasizing over and over about getting you pregnant, filling you with his cum, marking you from the inside. your belly swelling up, breasts swelling and becoming tender with milk.

[cellophaine]

PAIRING: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

RATING: Mature.

STATUS: Coming this February.

SERIES SUMMARY: Suffering from an injury that takes you away from the thing you love most – ballet, coupled with the mistreatment from the dance company you've been with since you were 17, you decide to turn a new leaf and take a chance on a job posting that isn't in your field. At your lowest, you meet Matt, a kind and charming stranger who promises a night of distraction with breakfast in the morning. But, a twist of fate reminds you, once again, that good things are a luxury you can't afford.

TIMELINE CONTEXT: After Daredevil Season 3.

WARNINGS: Sexual contents, angst, slow burn, unfair treatment in the workplace.

Chapter I: En avant

Chapter II: Dégagé

Chapter III: À terre

Chapter IV: Entrechat

Chapter V: En croix

Chapter VI: Developpe

Chapter VII: Arriéré

Chapter VIII: Fouetté

Chapter IX: Relevé

Chapter X: Frappé

Chapter XI: Derrière

Chapter XII: En l’air

...

Get notified when a new chapter is posted by following my sideblog @cellophaine-archives

[queers-gambit]

Talk Shit, Get Hit

prompt: ( requested ) your high school bully picks the wrong day to taunt you and it's up to an equally hotheaded Billy to calm you down. call it irony.

pairing: Billy Hargrove x female!reader characters are ALL aged 18 years old

fandom masterlist: Stranger Things

word count: 5.4k+

note: the reader is aggressive. the reader is violent. the reader’s hands are rated ‘E’ for Everyone.

warnings: you know the drill: author projects instead of going to therapy and uses personal experience as details. there's physical violence, aggressive reader, depiction of shitty home life / toxic family, (somewhat severe) abusive alcoholic parent, parental abandonment, cursing, bullying, Jason Carver's sister is the bully, injury and blood. cursing, threats, brief cigarette and illicit material use (marijuana / weed), i guess this is hurt and comfort, angst, we talk about Billy's abuse with Neil, too, and kinda abrupt ending.

PLEASE NOTE -

this fic will depict parental abuse, both emotional and physical. this fic will discuss an alcoholic parent. this fic will detail physical violence BY the reader.

DO NOT engage if any of these topics potentially trigger you. you will miss nothing if you decide to skip. author implores readers to value and prioritize their own comfort and mental health.

Of all the days Brittany Carver could've chosen, she picked the worst day imaginable to bully you - being akin to a ticking time bomb. To your immense surprise, she'd laid off that entire week, focused on the "big" cheerleading competition she was leading Hawkins High to victory in. It left her no energy to engage in her favorite past time of tormenting you; figuring that after 6 years of her brutal behavior, she had grown up and lost interest. You weren't someone who people bullied easily, but this thing with Brittany, it was some kind of twisted pissing contest; competition brewing in elementary school that boiled over during middle school and now lasted into high school.

However, God seemed to have a sick sense of humor because on the week your bully had temporarily forgotten your existence, things at home had escalated to a new height not previously known. It was true what they said: if it wasn't one thing, it was another.

The entire week, your mother had only been sober for - well - none of it. She was found morning, noon, and night slumped over in various locations around your home with different bottles of liquor in her grip. The house grew messier each day, a direct result of a checked-out parent refusing to do any chore and destructive little monsters that took form as your twin little brothers. You couldn't keep up, playing mother, sister, housewife, personal maid, and full-time student all at once; pushing your stress levels higher, making you bitter and short tempered. The times your mother was conscious, which was typically to find a new bottle of alcohol, she was a right nasty fuck.

Her bark matched her bite; not only yelling at you, belittling you, and gaslighting you - but also using physical aggression to "teach you a lesson" for being "disorderly" or "a waste of semen" - and yes, that is a direct quote. Her hands were dainty from malnourishment, bulging veins prominent, and despite your father abandoning the family ages go, she still wore her diamond wedding ring that left small cuts wherever she struck you. The times she wasn't sober enough to really "get" you, she put out cigarettes on your arms and thighs; leaving tiny, circular burn scars you coated in Neosporin. She’s been known to break a few wooden cooking spoons over your head, steal the money made from babysitting, even cashed-in your inheritance - pawning all of your dead grandmother’s jewelry. There were plenty of other examples, but dwelling on those instances wouldn't change the past or alter your future, so you stuffed them way deep down in your soul.

Naturally, you didn't say a Goddamn thing; under the impression that everyone had shitty family members they tolerated and that your home life was normal enough to not report to the police. You didn't know any better, you didn't know that your mother downing fifths of alcohol daily was cause for concern. You didn't know that abuse wasn't the standard - emotional or physical. It took years for you to learn that love wasn't supposed to hurt, that love wasn't supposed to scare you, that love wasn't selfish, that your mother didn't actually love you. It took years to convince yourself that you were worthy of love and acceptance, never receiving it from your mother - not knowing you could get it from anyone else.

And then, William fucking Hargrove - or Billy - breezed into your small hometown with a sweet denim-clad ass, golden, curly mullet, and a bad fucking attitude that rivaled your own.

It was a match made in heaven. Or hell.

You both suffered at the hands of your parental figures, turning abrasive and foul-mouthed as defense mechanisms. You and Billy developed hardened exteriors in an effort to protect your soft insides, and when you met officially, it was as if you two could see past that hard shell - straight through the bullshit. You recognized much of the same in one another - like looking in a mirror - and grew impossibly close in an incredibly short amount of time; grateful to have a second half who understood without ever needing explanation.

He just got you. Able to identify common threads between you. Billy understood you, having more empathy than you thought he could muster. He protected you. He loved you. He took care of you - and you did the exact same, considering you two were cut from the same cloth; wanting to assure him he was just as worthy of love as you.

Billy was known around Hawkins for being a womanizing jock with anger issues, and yet, when you finally agreed to go on a date with him, he never even looked at another girl twice. He felt as if dating his best friend, understanding that nobody else would truly understand him the way you do - so he did what he could to keep you.

He did his best to defend you, but there was only so many tangible things the star basketball player could protect you from. Gossip and petty cheerleaders, prime examples. Yet Billy still tried, even taking the liberty to confront Brittany's brother, Jason Carver, about leaving you alone. Unfortunately, it was as if Billy's concern spurred on the cheerleader's bullying, calling you pathetic for hiding behind a man and sending him to fight your battles. You told Billy to stay out of it, that you could handle the situation by yourself, that he would just make the situation much more sticky.

So he did. Billy backed off, letting you deal with the situation as best you deemed; offering his support in return, being a shoulder to cry on for the days your frustration peaked.

That entire week Brittany didn't bully you had been extraordinarily tiresome due to your mother's abuse, wanting to confide in Billy but refraining when you rationalized not bringing him into your bullshit. He had enough of his own. So, while, yes, it was a comfort to have him on your side, you never indulged Billy on the woes of your life. He was meant to be your escape, not your savior; the burden of shouldering your abuse while enduring his own feeling terribly unfair.

You kept quiet, even though you were silently begging for someone to save you. Yet you weren't a damsel, there was no Prince Charming, brave knight, chosen champion to slay the dragons terrorizing you.

However, your boyfriend was much more intuitive than you realized. You always prided yourself on your acting skills, convincing everyone around you that you were indifferent to your mother's temperament, even when showing up at school with a casted wrist, black eye, and split bottom lip. Turns out, parents in Hawkins gossiped much more than the kids, and soon, it felt like the entire town knew about your abusive alcoholic mother and runaway father. Nobody did anything to help you, they just tiptoed around the knowledge and stared at your injuries. Brittany Carver was the only person stupid enough to make the mistake of weaponizing your home situation.

It was a tepid spring afternoon, the sun peaking through the clouds and the first flowers sprouting from the thawing ground. The bell rang to dismiss for lunch, the hallways filled with mingling and milling students all grateful for the midday break. Some gathered in gaggles of friends, some headed directly for the cafeteria, and others, like you, utilized the time to exchange morning class books for afternoon materials. Your fractured wrist had long since healed, but there was a long, straight scar present as a result from the surgery you required; currently, a scabbing cut over your eyebrow, lips stinging from where the flesh split, with a collection of bruises turning different colors to represent various healing stages.

Today simply hadn't been your day.

After a week of constant alcohol-fueled battery, you felt your frustrations finally crescendo after being assigned 3 separate essays; doubling your stress, shortening your fuse, and creating heavy leaded dread as the minutes ticked by. Everyone else felt giddy for the spring-tastic weekend, wanting time to go faster so they could go home - but not you. You might've been the one teenager in the city - no, no, the county - no, wait! The state - WAIT, NO... The country, who didn't want to leave school. You didn't want the day to end and be forced out of your safety zone; anxiety twisting your stomach and prickling your skin at the thought of returning home.

Truthfully, you spent several nights a week at Billy's, being snuck in through his window; feeling unsafe in your own home and wanting to remain close without voicing your need for his proximity. You felt stronger with Billy, as if you could take on the world; as if your safety and wellbeing were (finally) a real priority. He took great pride in being that safe haven for you, thinking it a nice change of pace as he often never seized opportunities to prove himself compassionate and caring. Billy was known for being a brute, someone aggressive and commandeering; nobody associating "safety" with him - except you.

However, this wasn't one of those weekends you'd be able to sneak out, being forced into caring for your two wee brothers; them needing you, dependent on you, relying on the care and love you provide them.

As a result of your shitty week, you had been a right, foul bitch to those unfortunate enough to engage you. Being well aware of your attitude, you tried to avoid everyone, not wanting to lash out at innocent peers - labeling yourself a bitch because of your impeccable self-awareness. Though, no matter the labels you assigned, you simply couldn't rein your emotions into check given your anxiety over returning home overpowered your brain.

Knowing you'd be forced to defend yourself against your own mother set your teeth on edge, projecting your horrible mood onto anyone in your vicinity - making most keep their distance.

Keyword: most.

Much like her brother, captain of the basketball team, Jason Carver, Brittany Carver wasn't the brightest bulb of the bunch. She never picked up hints, she didn't bother reading the room or in-between any lines; she held little to no regard for those around her or their emotional state. Brittany just wanted to assert herself as Queen Bee and thought the best way to achieve that was by bullying those she deemed lesser then she. It gave her a power trip, made her feel swollen with importance, boosting her ego because in her mind, she'd rather be feared than loved.

Brittany was dressed in her pretty, pressed, and bright cheer uniform; her obnoxiously blonde hair tied in a high ponytail that swished dramatically with each step. She wore cherry flavored lip gloss, her make-up caked, skirt hiked higher than school regulation permitted because she suckled at the teat for attention - good or bad.

You heard the second bell ring and finished shoving books in your locker, trying to stuff notebooks in your bag when your locker was suddenly violently slammed shut. Flinching at the quick movement and aggressive bang, you glared at whoever dared interrupt you; a manicured hand flat on the metal to keep the locker closed.

"The fuck you want, Brittany?"

"Awh, someone's already got their panties in a twist," she mocked, two of her cronies giggling their support. "C'mon, babe, I was just stopping by to say hello - missed you this week!"

"Oh, for sure," you sneered in a sickly-sweet tone, "of course you missed me, your life is so much more boring without me in it, huh? Wow, seriously, Brittany, I'm flattered to be the main character in your life, too."

Her eyes rolled and one of the other cheerleaders at her flank, Jennifer, popped flavorless gum. "I'm surprised you still have this level of spunk and cheek to talk like that, would've thought Mommy Dearest beat it out of you by now - she hits you often enough, right? Doesn't she? Hmm, well, maybe she needs to hit you a little harder."

"Excuse me?" You snapped.

"You heard me!" She laughed. "Obviously your mom isn't teaching you any lessons since you still have this whole emo-attitude going on. But I can't say I blame her, you're such a bitch - I'd smack the shit outta you, too."

You nodded slowly, not realizing several students had paused themselves to watch the exchange; knowing this was a longtime coming and didn't want to miss the inevitable drama. Dropping your backpack, you asked, "You sure? You really wanna hit me?"

"Is it that hard to believe? I mean," she smirked, "your own mother does - of course, I do, too. Like, seriously, it's not a secret why she hits you - just look at you! No wonder she hates you, you're just a waste of space, resources, and money. Damn shame Billy doesn't see it yet, but don't worry, he will." She laughed again, "He'll get tired of reopening your lip every time you kiss. It's so pathetic and ugly, he'll start to crave what you can't offer. I mean, seriously, what guy with any self-respect wants to date a girl as broken as you?"

"Know what, Brittany?" You growled, balling your fists at your side. "I'll give you one free hit."

"Excuse me, what?"

"Yeah," your head nodded, "go ahead. One free, clean shot. Hit me if you want to so bad, but you'll only get just this one shot."

Her eyes rolled, "I don't need to, your mom's got that covered."

"Free hit, Brit," you taunted, gesturing, "c'mon, go 'head, lemme have it. Since I'm so insufferable, go right ahead - get your clean hit."

Jennifer and Jasmine shared strange looks, the latter nudging, "Just do it, Brittany, shut this stupid bitch the hell up."

"Yeah, Brittany, shut me the hell up."

She looked to her little goons with a smirk, shrugged and handing over her backpack. When Brittany turned again, she dramatically wound her arm back and used her full strength to swing her fist into your cheek; only making your head turn a fraction from impact. You hummed and nodded, the cheerleader laughing with her girls as if she had "shown you" - but her amusement died when she noticed you barely reacted.

You smirked, cracking your neck, "My turn!"

Your knuckle cracked the bridge of the cheerleader's nose - sick sound of a snap ringing in your ears and jolting the girl's head backwards; momentum forcing her to stumble. Brittany shrieked in pain, holding her nose, unable to defend herself as you launched your attack; first slamming her back into the lockers before jabbing your fist into any vulnerable spot you could.

Similar to the movies, you held Brittany by her hair to keep her in place; wailing your punches repeatedly, each hit making Britt bang into the lockers. Jennifer and Jasmine tried to pull you away but both earned their own punches or elbows to the face for the interference. You focused on Brittany, instantly curating a flock of students all eager to watch.

"FIIIIIIGHT!"

"GIRL FIGHT!"

"BEAT HER ASS, Y/N!"

Brittany sobbed as blood dribbled down her front, staining her pretty uniform, but you were just getting started. The hallway turned noisy, a circle forming around you four as all three cheerleaders were staved off; you running on pure anger, adrenaline, and overflowing frustration that encouraged your foot to kick Britt's gut. You'd never admit it, but Brittany's mocking had hurt you past words, made you feel vulnerable, disarmed, as if you were damaged, undeserving goods. With each punch or kick or stomp, you remembered a different instance of your mother's abuse, seeing her face instead of Brittany's; spurring you on with unrestrained force.

In the parking lot, Billy was leaning on his car with a few teammates from the basketball team and enjoying a hearty nicotine-filled break. Though they'd never label it as such, the boys exchanged idle gossip; listening to Conrad Jones detail his latest conquest, sneering about how "easy" Kennedy Stephens was. They were interrupted when Kyle Lambert sprinted up to them, sneakers skidding over asphalt, panting dramatically, "Billy! Billy! Y-You gotta come see this, man! You gotta help!"

"What?" He asked, taking a drag from his cigarette.

"I-It's your girl - it's Y/N!"

He pushed off his car that was supporting his weight, demanding, "What about her?"

"You gotta come quick, man, you gotta see this! It's fucking wild! Brittany, Jennifer, and Jasmine tried jumping her - "

Billy was surging across the carpark instantly, tossing his cigarette away before yanking the school doors open. He was instantly greeted by the chaotic sight and sounds of a fight, peers gathered in a large circle; screaming their support and hollering encouragement.

"Billy! Oh, thank God!!" Chrissy Cunningham cried, waving him closer. "You have to help! You have to do something, it's 3-on-1!"

He didn't acknowledge the strawberry blonde, just started instantly shoving through the crowd to reach the edge of the fight. It wasn't the sight he was anticipating - fearing the worst, now pleasantly surprised (and a little turned on).

Blood was splattered on the linoleum floors, a single streak smeared on the lockers. Jennifer was left on the ground with her back against the metal, sporting a busted lip as Jasmine was trying to coax her to her feet - sporting a ruddy face and disheveled look. Left in the center, to the entertainment of the crowd, was you on top of Brittany Carver, heaving your fist time and again into her face.

"Shit," he breathed, intending to step forward to stop the fight but needing to shove Tommy H. out of his way when he stepped forward.

"C'mon, man! It's a girl fight! Don't break it up!" Tommy begged, but Billy bullied through.

"All right, that's enough," he grunted, wrapping his arms around your middle and heaving you up and back a step - needing to engage his core and arms when you wriggled in an effort to free yourself. "Hey, hey, hey - "

"Lemme go! This bitch needs put in the ground!"

"Jesus Christ, when did you get this strong?" He grunted, your feet slipping on blood but still being restrained by your boyfriend's impressive strength.

"Talk your shit again, bitch!" You barked at Brittany, who was sobbing in pain and curling into herself. "Lemme hear you say another Goddamn word, you'll need more than another nose job! Fake ass, plastic bitch!"

Jason joined the center and knelt at his sister's side, helping her sit up, glaring at you and Billy. Your boyfriend grit his teeth when Jason snarled, "You need to muzzle your bitch, Billy!"

"I'll fuck you up for talkin' about her like that, Carver, don't provoke me. Watch yourself," Billy snapped in warning, successfully managing to get you behind him.

However, you dodged around him with only enough time to spit hatefully on Brittany, warning, "You wanna talk shit, you'll get hit! Don't let me hear you again - don't you ever dare say another word about my mama! I'll put you in the ground, bitch, fucking try me! I dare you! Try me again, say shit about my mama, and see what the fuck I do!"

"All right, all right, you made your point," Billy stiffly told you, pulling you away by force to avoid you actually killing Brittany. He got a look at her injuries, thinking there must've been more than a broken nose from the way her uniform was stained and her entire face bloodied. "C'mon, we gotta get outta here, come with me - c'mon, baby, you can't touch her anymore, you made your point, you'll end up killin' her or some shit," he panted, shoving through the crowd and effectively ending the fight.

Billy didn't let go of your form until finally outside - letting you rip yourself away as your blood boiled, adrenaline making you much stronger. He watched you pace; huffing, puffing, seething, all but gnashing your teeth hatefully. "That fucking bitch had it coming, Bee, it was self defense!" You finally explained.

"Oh, yeah, princess, totally looked like it," he scoffed, blocking the doors in case you tried to go back. He lit another cigarette.

"It was, you condescending asshole!" You snapped, eyes ablaze and anger tangible. "She approached me, she ran her mouth, and she hit me first!"

"Well," he sighed, "whatever the reason, it's not worth jail time for beating her to death."

"Might be."

"Ain't nothing worth throwing your life away," he offered you the cigarette, but you refused. "Why don't you just tell me what happened? What'd she say?"

"It doesn't matter, Billy."

"I think it matters when she looks like she's gonna need a blood transfusion to replenish what she's lost."

"Whatever - let it be a lesson that you shouldn't throw stones if you're scared of a boulder."

Billy sighed, smoke blown from his mouth, "C'mon, doll, tell me what happened?"

"Doesn't matter, it's done, it's over, it's in the past."

"Baby, I can't help you if you don't talk to me."

"You can't help, period, Billy! There's nothing you can do!"

"Well, you're not even letting me try!"

"'Cause it's redundant!"

"Obviously not when you look like a raging bull!"

Your eyes rolled, head shaking, "I handled it."

"I saw," he scoffed. "So, 3-on-1? How'd that happen?"

"I told you, they approached me."

"Well, I'm gonna need a little more to go on. C'mon, pretty girl, the fuck just happened? You know you can get suspended!" This made you freeze, muscles clamming up, looking purely petrified as if the thought hadn't occurred to you. "I know you don't want that, but if you talk to me, maybe I can help lessen whatever punishment."

"Oh, whatever, like I care about being punished," you snipped, hands twisting together - telling Billy you were beginning to get anxious.

"I think you do, it'd put you in the house with your mom alone," he trailed, pushing away from the doors to approach you like a baby deer. "C'mon, I know you don't wanna get suspended, so just tell me what happened."

"I'm sure you'll hear all about it from your little basketball buddies."

"I don't fucking care!" He snapped with the cigarette trapped and bobbing between his lips, making you look at him in mild shock. "There's gonna be a hundred different rumors, whole fuckin' school watched you beat the shit outta those girls - but I only care about what you have to say."

"There's no point - "

"Oh, Jesus Christ," he growled, snatching the cig between his knuckles, "I just saw three bitches on the ground, all injured, beaten up, bleeding - so stop being so Goddamn stubborn and just tell me! I'm tryna help you!"

"You pulled me off of her, you've helped plenty."

"I'd like to understand how this happened."

"It won't change anything."

"No, it won't, but you have a side to the story. Tell me what went wrong? What happened?"

You sighed, no longer pacing, planting both hands on your hips. Your head shook as Billy tossed the filtered cigarette butt aside, muttering when he exhaled the last of the smoke, "It seems so stupid now."

"Hey," he soothed, crowding into your space and taking one of your hands in his. "Whatever it is, I'm sure it wasn't stupid. You're forgetting, I know well enough to understand you wouldn't throw a punch unless absolutely necessary. Whatever got you riled up like that ain't stupid, sweetheart."

Like a glazed donut, your eyes turned glassy. Billy frowned and took your other hand off your hip, forcing your attention on him. "I swear, I didn't start it," you whispered.

"Only matters that you finished it," he smirked. "Tell me, what the fuck was all that?"

You sighed deeply, offering meekly, "Guess they had it comin'..."

"I know they did," Billy chuckled. "Nobody's that stupid to provoke you, except Brittany."

"I was at my locker... They approached and slammed it shut."

"Right, okay..."

"There were words exchanged, but Brittany, she - " You paused, swallowing thickly, "she started talkin' shit about my mom, about, you know, what she does..."

Billy understood instantly. "You fuckin' serious?" He growled, seeing you nod and fill him in on what was said - unable to look him in the eye as you relived your anger. By the end, you were trembling in emotion and adrenaline loss, Billy sighing deeply and yanking you into his chest for a tight embrace. "All right, yeah," he mumbled, "should've put them bitches in the ground."

"And now," you sniffled, "I'm gonna get suspended, forced to stay home with Ma all next week."

"We'll get you outta it."

"Can't, the school doesn't tolerate fighting on school grounds."

"You said she swung first?"

"Technically, yes. I might've - allegedly - prompted her into it."

"It's still selfdefense, toots, no matter what you or anyone said - if she swung first and hit you, you were only defending yourself."

You shrugged, resting on his chest, "You see the damage? Admin won't care who swung first - not when they're beat to shit."

"Yeah, there's my li'l hothead," he smirked, chuckling slightly before pecking the top of your head. "But you gotta admit, it's impressive how you took on all three."

"I guess, doesn't exactly feel like an accomplishment."

"Nah, princess, seriously," he pulled you back to look at him again, "that's fuckin' hot. I mean, they approached you and still got their asses handed to 'em. That's straight skill."

"Or just a lot of anger with nowhere to go," you frowned. "Think I should go find admin?"

"Nah, they'll probably find you - "

The doors opened and your name was called, the principal's secretary waving you to her. "Fuck," you whispered, releasing Billy.

"I'll come with you," he promised, lacing your fingers together when he took your hand. Billy had to admit, it was a little weird being in the principal's office but not being the one in trouble; waiting without patience in a fraying chair, picking at the exposed stuffing with his leg bouncing. He'd been there 45 minutes, skipping the last half of classes, just waiting as you were behind a closed door with the principal, vice principal, and the disciplinary officer.

He looked up when the school nurse lead Brittany, Jennifer, and Jasmine inside - glaring at them but admiring the scattering of cuts and bruises with dried blood on their precious uniforms. A few minutes later, you were exiting the office with a passive and neutral expression settled on your face. Your lip curled only slightly when you clocked the cheerleaders - hating how smug they all looked - approaching Billy instantly.

"You all right?" He checked, standing and adjusting his jeans.

"Mhm," you nodded, keeping your voice low as the principal called the three cheerleaders into his office. You waited until the door was closed, then informed with a smirk, "I'm not suspended."

"No?"

"Nope," you confirmed. "Apparently, they asked a couple other kids what happened and my story matches theirs. I was minding my business, they came up to me, they started mouthing off, and Brittany was the one who hit me first. So," you shrugged, "guess your idea of selfdefense held strong."

"See? That's good, huh?"

"Yeah," you sighed, nodding absently, "but he said the girls were gonna lose their spot on the cheer squad for this. Listen, I don't think I feel like goin' back to class - kinda just wanna take a nap."

Billy hiked up his jean jacket sleeve, consulting his watch for a moment. "Wanna head to mine? Neil's got the evening shift and Susan has bridge club for a few more hours - we'd be alone."

Your eyes rolled, "No offense, Bee, I don't feel like fucking right now."

"I'm not sayin' that, I'm sayin' let's go nap at mine," he chuckled, picking up your backpack that you forgot about. "We can come back to get your brothers but you know you're not gonna rest if you go home."

You gulped, sighing sadly, "Yeah, well, about that..."

"Something else happen?"

"Apparently... The school has an obligation to call the police if a student reports abuse."

"You reported your mom?"

"Not on purpose," you rushed in defense, "just that... I had to explain what Brittany said to me - so I had to admit what Ma did - or does."

Billy frowned, "Jesus."

"Yeah, so... Maybe going home isn't the smartest idea right now. I wouldn't wanna be there when they conduct their wellness check."

"You wanna stay at mine?" He offered.

"What about Neil?"

"He's a lot nicer with you around," he admitted. "Won't care too much if you stay the night. Plus Max has that club thing after school, then she's going to the arcade; so, she won't need a ride, we can just go."

"You know what? Sure, all right, I'll come to yours," you accepted, your lover boy whisking you away without a second thought. "Thank you, baby."

Your hands were stiff, and when you looked at them, noted split skin and stained blood as a reminder of your aggression... Wondering why the fuck people pushed you to these limits and acted surprised when you reacted? If they wanted a punching bag, they picked the wrong one - but you were willing to remind them.

When you got to the Hargrove residence, you were silent as the grave; stewing in your anger that rolled off you in projected waves. Billy was terribly disarmed, unsure how to properly comfort you - wondering how he would want to be comforted, realizing he'd want to be alone, not subject to anyone's bullshit advice. So, he did what he knew and after handing you a bag of frozen peas for your split knuckles, comfortably stripped and crashed in bed with the window cracked and a rolled joint between his fingers.

You rested on his bare chest, sighing deeply while watching the end of the spliff come to life in a smoldering ember. Billy took the first inhale to make sure it was lit and instantly handed it to you, his arm snug around you and the silence hanging in the air like the swirls of stale, exhaled smoke.

"I'm sorry it got to this point, pretty girl," He offered awkwardly, his other arm bending to prop under his head. Both of you stared off aimlessly, stereo filling the space dully in the background.

"Not your fault," You inhaled and held your breath, handing him the joint. He casually flicked the end in an ashtray resting on the window sill.

"No, but I could've done more."

You chuckled, smoke seeping through your lips and teeth, "Oh, yeah? How? You gonna beat up three girls?"

"Nah but I could beat the shit outta Jason."

"What good would that do?"

"If he didn't want a weekly black eye, Jason would control his sister."

"It's always about control with you, isn't it?"

"I'm just saying," he handed the joint back, lungs pinched to hold the smoke, "I could protect you."

"You already do, baby."

"Let me do more, princess."

"You can't fight every battle for me."

"You could let me try."

"You'd be fighting on two fronts," you frowned, exhaling slowly. "Can't fight for me when you're defending yourself against Neil."

"Might be easier to deal with your shit than my own," he chuckled without humor, accepting the spliff. "Look, I know you don't want me involved, but that's kinda what a boyfriend's supposed to do, right? Protect their woman?"

"I wouldn't know."

"Never had a boyfriend before?"

"Nobody was worth dating until you. Nobody could understand me the way you do so effortlessly."

"'Cause we're one and the same, baby girl. You don't have to do everything by yourself," he inhaled, handing the spliff over again, "don't always have t'be strong."

"Ain't no other choice."

"You could let me in more..."

"You're one to talk."

He sighed, smoke billowing. "You're right. Can't expect you to open up if I don't, so why don't we both try to let the other in more? Yeah, I get it, the shit we deal with ain't pretty but at least we understand each other, right? We're the best for each other to lean on."

"I don't wanna drag you into my bullshit, baby."

"I want you to drag me in, princess. I wanna help you."

You sighed, "Well, Brittany and her cronies are getting suspended and kicked off the cheer squad - they'll be looking for reason to take it out on me."

"Say the word, baby, and I'll beat Jason black-and-blue."

"You're so romantic."

"Only for you - so don't tell anyone. I got a reputation to protect."

You both snickered as the weed you indulged in took effect, lulling you two into a state of ease. Your knuckles had stopped burning, resting your injured hand under the frozen peas, reminding yourself to remain grateful in this turbulent period of life because now, you had someone on your team. Someone who wanted to help carry your baggage. Someone without alternate motives. Someone who was willing to withstand the storm in the hope of feeling the warmth of the sun again.

requesting rules and masterlist

Stranger Things masterlist

[superbreadsoul]

DON’T BAIL ON ME

Matt Murdock x Reader

DISCLAIMER: The following story is purely fictional and is made for entertainment purposes. I do not own any of the characters mentioned in this story.

WARNING: Heartbreak, no happy-ending, Matt is emotionally constipated, Reader is unable to take responsibility as well. Elektra (cuz she’s hawt).

WORD COUNT: 5119 WORDS

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Matt’s voice trembled with concern as he heard her step through the door, sensing her eyes downcast, her posture tense. He had been pacing for what felt like hours, his mind running wild with worry. The clock on the wall mocked him with every passing second. He hadn’t heard from her all day. He hadn’t seen her since their plans had been set.

"Hey, sweetheart," he began, his tone more gentle than usual, but heavy with the weight of unspoken fear. "I was worried about you. Where have you been?"

Her response was quiet, almost reluctant, as if she was debating whether or not to let him in on the truth. "At the hospital."

The words hit him like a punch to the gut. His heart skipped a beat. "What? Why? Are you okay?"

His feet moved instinctively toward her, but she didn't meet his gaze. Instead, she stepped back, a wall of frustration and hurt suddenly building between them. He halted, sensing the shift, his worry now mingling with confusion.

"Yeah," she said, her voice tight. "I was visiting Barry."

There was an unmistakable edge to her words, and Matt froze, the weight of her response settling in. Barry. The name stung. He had heard about Barry—her ex, the doctor— the one she couldn’t quite escape, the one who always seemed to pull her back in. He had known this day would come. He just hadn’t expected it to feel so… personal. Little did he know, that wasn't what she was seemingly hesitant about.

"Oh," Matt said, his voice trailing off as he tried to keep his composure. He noticed a familiar scent around her, something sweet and floral. "You—smell nice."

She blinked, her lips tightening into a thin line. “Really?” she replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Well, I wanted to smell nice for our date. Thanks for showing up, by the way.”

Matt’s heart clenched. The biting tone in her voice stung, but it was nothing compared to the way the truth had just hit him. His sightless eyes bounced, full of remorse and regret. His mind raced, desperately trying to piece together where everything had gone wrong.

"Oh sweetheart," he whispered, his words catching in his throat. "I’m so sorry. It… it slipped my mind. I’m so, so sorry."

He stepped forward, his hands reaching for her, but she pulled back slightly, the distance between them growing, thick with unspoken anger.

"Are you?" she asked, her voice trembling with a mix of hurt and disbelief. She glanced up at him, the vulnerability in her voice almost too much for him to bear. "Are you really sorry, Matt?"

Her question hung in the air, and for a moment, he was speechless. All he could hear was the rapid beat of his own heart, and the deafening silence that followed. He had forgotten their date. He had let her down. Again.

Matt’s breath hitched as he took another step closer, his voice dropping to a softer, more sincere tone. “Y/N, is something wrong?”

The words were tentative, but they were filled with an unspoken plea for her to let him in, to let him fix this, to let him make things right. But she only stood there, her arms crossed, her expression unreadable.

Matt had known her long enough to recognize the storm brewing beneath her calm exterior. But this—this was different. This was something deeper, something he couldn’t fix with an apology alone.

"Natchios."

The name dropped from Y/N's lips like a stone sinking into the silence of the room, heavy and uninvited. It echoed through the small space, reverberating off the walls and into Matt’s chest, where it lodged like a shard of ice. The very surname that had haunted him for years. The one name he thought he had left behind. The name of the woman who had once ruled his world in a storm of chaos and passion—and who, no matter how hard he tried, was never truly gone.

“What?” Matt froze, his blood running cold, his breath caught in his throat. The dread settled in, slow and suffocating. He had thought he could outrun it, that he had buried that past deep enough for it to never resurface. But now, standing before him, was Y/N, looking at him with eyes that said she knew, and with a smile that barely disguised the hurt and the bitterness.

Y/N tilted her head slightly, her lips curling into a bitter, almost rueful grin. “I was so caught up with the trial, I didn’t realise it at first. I’d never heard a name so unique. Then I thought, hey, actually, I have. I’ve only ever known one person with a name that unique. She had a pretty unique personality too. Elektra Natchios. Huh.”

Matt’s heart hammered in his chest, and he felt a cold sweat prick at the back of his neck. Her words stung deeper than he could have imagined. There was no hiding now, no pretending that this wasn’t happening. He couldn't see it but he knew that Y/N was no longer looking at him with the gentle affection of someone who had shared quiet moments of love. Now, she was looking at him with something else: pain. And the realization that everything he had tried to protect her from had come crashing down.

Y/N’s eyes narrowed at him, her gaze sharp and cutting, as she began to recall their past. “God, I hated that stupid Chevy Belair Coupe she used to drive around to pick you up. Then you’d get in the passenger seat with a big smile on your face, bunking all your classes.” She chuckled, but the sound was hollow, edged with something bitter and pained. “And I wouldn’t hear from you for days. Three days, Matt. I didn’t hear from you for three damn days.”

Matt opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He wanted to apologise, to explain, but the words felt useless. How could he explain any of it without dragging her deeper into the mess that was his life with Elektra? 

Elektra. 

Just the thought of her made his stomach twist, but the worst part was the knowledge that Y/N had been right all along. He had never fully severed the connection with Elektra, and now, it was here, in front of him, like a spectre from his past. 

Y/N’s eyes flashed with an icy determination. "She’s here, isn’t she? Like Stick? You can come out now.”

The words hung in the air, sharp and accusing. Matt’s breath hitched, and before he could protest or stop it, Y/N’s gaze flicked toward the door of the bedroom. The silence that followed was oppressive, and Matt’s heart sank as he knew exactly who would walk through that door, already hearing her heels clicking. He didn’t need to say a word. He didn’t have to.

From the shadows of the hallway, Elektra emerged.

“Hello, Y/N,” Elektra’s voice was smooth, almost amused, like she had been waiting for this moment, anticipating the fallout from Matt’s past finally catching up with him.

Elektra’s steps were confident, every movement exuding the kind of smug self-assurance Matt had never been able to shake. She stood tall in the doorway, her presence dominating the room even as she leaned casually against the frame. There was a faint, cruel smile playing at the edges of her lips as she looked past Matt to Y/N. 

Matt’s stomach turned. Elektra had always had that way of walking into a room like she owned it, like everyone in it was just another pawn in her game. He hated that about her. He hated the way she always made him feel like he was nothing more than a fool to be played with. 

“Elektra,” Y/N said, her voice tight with controlled fury. "I should have known you’d be here. Always lurking in the shadows, making everything more complicated than it needs to be."

Elektra’s eyes gleamed with something cold, calculating. “I don’t know what you mean. I’m just here to see Matthew, just like I always have been.”

Matt’s chest tightened. “Y/N, I—”

But Y/N held up a hand, the air shifting as she did, silencing him before he could finish. Her eyes, once soft with affection, now burned with a mix of pain and anger, and he realized, too late, that this was a breaking point. A fracture in their relationship that couldn’t be healed with empty words.

“What? You’re sorry?” Y/N asked, the disbelief thick in her voice. “For what, Matt? For still being tied to her after all this time? For letting her come back into your life, into our life, like nothing ever changed?”

Matt took a step forward, but it was like walking on a tightrope. Every word he tried to say felt heavier than the last, his voice faltering as he reached for her. “Y/N, it’s not what you think—”

“It never is,” Y/N snapped, her voice a mixture of frustration and grief. "You’re still lying to me, Matt. You’re still lying to me, even now.”

Y/N’s voice was calm, but there was an unmistakable edge to it, a sharpness that immediately cut through the tension in the room. “Matt and I need to talk, so I’m sorry, but I’d like you to leave.”

Elektra didn't flinch. She gave a soft, almost mocking smile, the same smile Matt had once found irresistible, traced it with his own fingers, now a twisted reminder of everything he was trying to move past. “Alright.” She didn’t hesitate, her heels clicking sharply against the floor as she turned toward Matt’s bedroom, making her way back into the shadows of his life.

But before she could slip out of sight, Y/N’s voice stopped her cold, the words laced with authority. “—The apartment.”

Elektra paused mid-step, a flicker of surprise in her eyes, but it was quickly masked by that same smug composure.

Matt opened his mouth, but his throat tightened as the reality of the situation began to settle in. He had never heard Y/N so resolute, and despite everything he wanted to say, he knew that this wasn’t his battle to fight. Still, he hated the feeling of being stuck in the middle. “Y/N—” he started, his voice soft, trying to diffuse the tension.

“—You speak when I ask you to speak.” Her voice cut through his words like a knife, leaving no room for argument.

Matt flinched, a sigh escaping him. His frustration built inside him, the weight of being trapped between the two women he cared about—one from his past, one from his present. He dropped his head, hands on his hips, trying to control the burning anger bubbling within him. The last thing he wanted was this kind of confrontation, but it was inevitable, wasn’t it? A situation of his own making.

Elektra, as if sensing Matt's turmoil, gave him one last smirk before she silently walked out, her footsteps echoing as she left the apartment. But even with her gone, the tension in the room was suffocating. Y/N stood there, arms crossed, her eyes trained on Matt, who didn’t move. The silence stretched between them like a chasm, filled with things unsaid.

“I’m not gonna have a one-sided conversation, so can you please turn around?” Y/N’s voice was stern, but there was an underlying hurt that Matt couldn’t ignore.

Reluctantly, Matt turned to face her. His jaw was tight, the weight of her gaze almost unbearable. For a second, he was relieved that he wouldn't have to see that scathing look on her face Foggy always talked about. He knew what was coming next, but it didn’t make it any easier to bear. 

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” she asked, her tone softening only slightly as she tried to understand, but the confusion in her eyes was clear.

Matt opened his mouth, the words caught somewhere between guilt and frustration. “About what?” he asked, feigning ignorance, but even to him, the question felt hollow. He couldn’t pretend anymore.

Y/N’s eyes flicked to the door where Elektra had just left, and her voice was barely above a whisper as she listed out the things that had been gnawing at her. “About Stick. About Elektra. About everything that’s been hanging over us since the moment we got together. Why didn’t you tell me?”

Her words hit harder than she probably realised, and Matt’s breath faltered. The truth was, he hadn’t been able to bring himself to share it. Not because he didn’t trust her, but because he had hoped—no, he had needed—to believe that he could keep his past locked away. That Elektra, Stick, and all the messes of his old life would stay buried, far from Y/N. But he had been fooling himself. And now, here she was, asking him the one question he couldn’t dodge.

“Because you walked out on me before I could tell you,” Matt said, his voice thick with frustration, his hands clenched at his sides. His sightless eyes were wild, somewhat searching for hers—waiting so that she might tell him that she understood, or at least would understand, if he could just explain it all.

Y/N didn’t flinch at his words, but the hurt was unmistakable. She stood there, her arms still crossed, her gaze unwavering. She had always been so patient with him, so understanding. But this—this was too much. 

“You think I walked out on you?” she asked, her voice tight, trying to keep the trembling anger at bay. “You think I just left? You’re the one who shut me out, Matt. You’re the one who didn’t trust me with the truth. You kept me at arm’s length, and now I’m supposed to believe it was just because you couldn’t find the right time to tell me?”

Matt took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling with a frustration that was barely contained. “It wasn’t like that,” he said, his voice lower now, softer but still heavy with regret. “I never wanted to hurt you. I never wanted to drag you into that world. But you—you wouldn’t have understood. You wouldn’t have accepted it.”

Y/N’s eyes narrowed slightly, and she stepped closer to him, her voice barely above a whisper. “You don’t get to decide what I can or can’t handle, Matt. You don’t get to keep things from me because you’re afraid of how I’ll react. I’m your partner. You tell me. You trust me.”

Y/N’s voice was laced with frustration as she tried to make him understand, but Matt could sense that her patience was starting to wear thin. “Besides, I was rightfully upset—”

“—Is there a point to this conversation?” Matt interrupted, his tone sharp, his shoulders tense. He didn’t want to fight. He didn’t want to keep spinning in this cycle of misunderstandings and hurt feelings. He just wanted it to go back to the way it was. He wanted everything to feel normal again.

Y/N blinked, her expression one of bewilderment and frustration. “What do you mean, ‘is there a point’? Matt, of course, there’s a point! I want you to talk to me!” She said the words with an exasperated urgency, as if she couldn’t understand why he wasn’t getting it.

Matt’s jaw clenched, and he turned away for a moment, trying to steady himself. “There’s nothing to talk about, Y/N. Besides, you made it clear yesterday that you didn’t want to talk to me.”

The hurt in his voice was unmistakable, and Y/N’s chest tightened. The memory of last night—the way she’d stormed out, the way Matt had closed himself off—was still fresh. It felt like a betrayal, but even more so, it felt like the same pattern she had been trying to avoid. He was slipping away from her, like he always did.

Her heart pounded as she stared at him, frustration bubbling up again. “See, this is exactly what I’m talking about,” she said, her finger gesturing towards him. “You just brush it all off. It’s like you won’t even try to understand why I’m upset!”

Matt’s eyes flashed, frustration building in his chest. He didn’t know how to explain it, how to make her understand that his silence wasn’t about her, but about the things inside him that he didn’t know how to talk about. “What?” he snapped back, unable to hide the rawness in his voice. “What do you want from me, Y/N?”

“God! It’s always one step forward and ten steps back with us!” she nearly shouted, her voice full of pent-up frustration. “It’s always the same thing! You do something, and I pull away. I do something, and you pull away. We can’t keep doing this, Matt! I can’t keep feeling like I’m the only one trying to hold this together.”

The words hit him harder than he expected, and for a moment, he didn’t know how to respond. He wanted to explain that it wasn’t just her—that it wasn’t always her fault. But the truth was, his own insecurities were starting to drown out the words. His fear of being abandoned, of losing her, was starting to seep into every crack of their relationship, and he didn’t know how to fight it.

“We talk, don’t we?” Matt said cynically, crossing his arms as he looked at where he assumed her eyes were, his expression closed off. “I’m right here standing in front of you.”

Y/N’s eyes narrowed as she shot back with a bitter laugh, the sting of his words landing harder than he’d realised. “As opposed to how lately, every conversation I have with you is towards your back?” she said, her voice full of incredulity. “You’re physically here, Matt, but you’ve been gone for a while now.”

Matt flinched at the accusation, the weight of her words cutting deep. He opened his mouth to argue, but the frustration in Y/N’s voice silenced him before he could speak.

“What the hell does that mean?” he snapped back, his confusion mixing with his growing anger. 

Y/N’s words were sharp, cutting through the air between them like a blade. “It means you avoid me!” she deadpanned, her frustration bubbling to the surface. “It means your first instinct is to run away from me the second things get a little bit rough.” She pointed directly at him, her eyes narrowing as she squinted up at him in disbelief. She rocked her hand in the air, as if to emphasise how often he pulled away, how shaky he could be when things weren't easy.

Matt’s heart beat erratically in his chest as she spoke, the truth in her words hitting him like a freight train. She wasn’t wrong. He had always pulled away when things got tough. His instinct had always been to retreat into the safety of silence, of isolation, of not facing the things that scared him the most.

“I don’t run,” Matt muttered, his voice low and defensive. “I—”

“You do,” she interrupted sharply, cutting him off before he could finish. “I’m not an idiot, Matt. I can see it. You shut down. You turn away. You make yourself small, and you expect me to just stand here and wait for you to come back.”

Matt stood there, frozen for a moment, the words hanging in the air like a weight he couldn’t escape. His breath was shallow, his chest tight. The things Y/N was saying, the things she was pointing out, weren’t easy to hear, but they were the truth. And deep down, he knew it.

“I don’t run!” Matt growled stubbornly in denial.

Matt's chest tightened, his jaw clenching in anger. He couldn't stand hearing it, especially not from her. "Okay? That is neither here nor there," he snapped, immediately brushing her words aside, shaking his head in frustration. He was done with the conversation, or so he thought. He wanted to put the walls back up, to shield himself from the rawness of the situation.

Y/N raised an eyebrow at him, the sarcasm in her expression all too clear. "Okay, well, here we are, Matt," she said, her voice dripping with frustration and mockery. "What do you wanna do? How do you wanna handle it, huh? Do you wanna fight for us, or do you wanna bail?"

She pointed toward the door, her hand shaking slightly with the intensity of the moment, as if to punctuate her question. Her voice rose in frustration, her eyes flashing with a mix of anger and hurt. She paused, studying him as the weight of his silence seemed to hang in the air. But as she watched him, something softened in her gaze. She saw the vulnerable look in his eyes—the quiet uncertainty he wore so well. And despite the storm of emotions she felt, her heart ached for him.

With a heavy sigh, she took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to raise my voice,” she said quietly, the sharpness gone from her tone, replaced by something more tender. The fight was still there, but beneath it, there was love. She stepped forward, her hands trembling as she reached for him.

Y/N placed her hands gently in his, her touch soft and warm. She needed him to hear her, needed him to understand. “Listen to me,” she said, her voice steady now, but filled with a quiet urgency. “I want you, Matt. In all your sweet, yet rugged, devilish glory,” she said with a small, affectionate smile, even as her heart ached with the weight of everything unsaid. “I want to be here when your nights get rough, and I want to be the first thing you feel in the morning.”

She cupped his cheeks, her fingers soft against his skin as she looked into his eyes and feeling the intensity that made his breath catch in his throat. Her gaze softened, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. She sniffled, her voice trembling. "Look, you think your crazy life, your past, everything that’s happened to you, is going to scare me away or something… but that’s not true. You’re so wrong."

Her chest tightened, her heart aching at the sight of him—of the man who had always been so afraid of being too much, so afraid of dragging others down with him. “Because there’s nothing out there, nothing in here, that scares me as much as the thought of losing you.”

Her voice was barely above a whisper now, but the weight of her words struck him with the force of a wrecking ball. "Trust me when I say… people like you and me, we don’t get the chance to love like this, Matt. I stay. I don’t run. Because I love you."

The confession hit him like a punch to the gut. She had said it. She had finally said it, and her words hung in the air between them like a lifeline. She had chosen him, despite everything. Despite his fear, his past, the mess he carried around with him. 

Y/N’s voice was soft, tender now, as she spoke again, the love in her tone so raw it made his heart ache. “I love you so much that all I can ever think about is you. There’s no version of my life that doesn’t have you in it.” Her hands tightened around his, pulling him closer, even as she sniffled again, the tears starting to break free from her eyes. “So I’ll stay right here. You can push me away all you want, but I’m not going anywhere. I’ll wait for you.”

Matt’s breath caught in his throat as he processed her words, the weight of her confession crashing over him. She was here. She was choosing to stay, despite the chaos, despite everything. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had said something so raw, so real to him. 

But even now, he found it hard to believe. He was so used to people leaving, to pushing others away before they could hurt him. The idea that she wouldn’t walk away, that she wanted him, despite his flaws and his broken pieces—it was a foreign concept. 

He shook his head, as if trying to clear the fog in his mind, but the truth was, he was terrified. Terrified of letting her in, terrified of what would happen if he let himself truly believe that someone could love him—want him—after everything.

"I..." His voice cracked as he tried to speak, but words failed him. He reached up, touching her hands, still holding him so gently, and his gaze softened as he aimlessly searched where he assumed her face was in wonder, listening to her heart for any sign of doubt. But there was none. There was only love. A kind of love he had never known, never imagined he deserved.

Matt stood frozen, his heart hammering in his chest as Y/N’s confession lingered in the air between them. The weight of her words was suffocating, like a tidal wave crashing over him. He had never expected this moment to come, and now that it had, he wasn’t sure what to do with it. Her love for him, so pure and raw, left him paralyzed, caught between the fear of being loved and the fear of losing her.

His mind raced, his emotions a tangled mess. He wanted to say something, anything, but the words caught in his throat. His fears—his insecurities—gripped him like chains. Could he really let her in? Could he really let someone love him after everything he had done, everything he had become? And if he did, what would that mean for her? For them?

Y/N noticed the struggle in his sightless eyes, the way he seemed to shrink in on himself, and her heart sank. She had poured herself out to him—had told him, for the first time, how much he meant to her—and now, he couldn’t even return the sentiment. She frowned softly, her own pain growing as she took a small step back, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Matt?” She searched his face, looking for something, anything, that would tell her that he felt the same. “Did you hear me?” she repeated, the desperation creeping into her voice. “Say something. Please? Matt?”

The silence between them stretched on, thick with the unspoken. Matt’s brow furrowed, his hands trembling slightly as he struggled to find the words that felt right. But there was nothing—nothing that could explain the tangled mess of emotions inside him. He opened his mouth, but only half-formed words came out. 

“I—uh—I can’t do this right now,” he finally said, his voice shaky with regret. “There’s a lot going on, and I—I can’t—” His words faltered, a deep ache filling his chest. It wasn’t that he didn’t feel the same way. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to be with her. But the weight of his dual life—the mask he wore, the life he led as Daredevil—was so heavy, and he wasn’t sure how to balance it with what Y/N was offering him. The fear of losing her, of not being enough, of the danger he brought to everyone around him—it all swirled in his mind.

Y/N’s heart dropped at his words. The dread that washed over her was instantaneous, a cold, sharp wave that made her feel small and foolish. She had laid herself bare, had trusted him with a part of herself she didn’t give to anyone else, and now—now he was pulling away. 

"Oh," she whispered, the word barely escaping her lips as the weight of disappointment settled into her chest. A hollow ache took root there. She had given him everything she had, all her love, all her hope—and he couldn’t even say it back. The look in his eyes was enough to confirm the one thing she’d feared most: he wasn’t ready. He wasn’t willing to let her in. 

Her hands instinctively pulled away from his, the absence of his touch like an icy wind. She couldn’t look at him, couldn’t bear to see the regret in his eyes. Instead, she looked away, her heart breaking with every passing second. She felt so stupid for believing, for thinking that maybe this time, with him, things could be different. That maybe, just maybe, he could love her back.

“I don’t—” Matt began again, but the words felt too heavy to say. He sighed deeply, his own heart aching as he heard the stutter in her heartbeat. He didn’t want to hurt her; glad he couldn't see that look of brokenness in her eyes. But he knew he had to do this—he had to finish what he started with Elektra, had to be Daredevil first. There was too much at stake. He was torn between the man he wanted to be for her and the one he had to be for the city.

“I have to go,” he said reluctantly, his voice low and filled with regret. His eyes softened for a moment, the weight of the moment heavy in the space between them. “I need to finish something. I need to... do what I have to do. I’ll come back, okay?”

The words sounded hollow to Y/N, and she felt her throat close up as the tears welled up in her eyes. She couldn’t look at him now, not like this. Not when he was so distant, so unsure. Her voice cracked as she whispered, barely able to get the words out.

“Okay.”

It was the only thing she could say, the only thing she had left. Her heart was in pieces, each one slipping further away from him with every word he spoke. She wouldn’t fight him. She couldn’t fight him. Not now. Not when he was already running. 

She didn’t look up as he left, didn’t want him to sense the tears that slipped down her cheeks, the raw pain she could no longer hide. All she wanted was for him to stay, to choose her, but the cold reality was that she didn’t know if he ever would.

Matt hesitated at the door, his hand on the handle, but the moment lingered for just a second longer. He tilted his head, ear faced to her direction, his face a mix of regret and guilt, but he didn’t say anything more. He couldn’t.

And with that, he was gone, leaving Y/N standing in the quiet apartment, her heart aching with the realisation that love—real love—might not be enough to bridge the chasm between them.

The End.

[theancientwise]

So, i watched the trailer of "Vikings Valhalla 3" and, as i feared, most likely there won't be the Conqueror...

this is my mood right now..

[givingairtomymouth]

If JJ treated a couple of girls the same way Kiara treated John B and Pope, y'all would not be out there shipping them and justifying his s***ty behavior.

[fortunxa]

streamer!Jinx (x reader) / modern AU (duh)

H E A D C A N O N S

—INCLUDES!

➤ x (fem!)reader

➤ x streamer!reader

contents: like one or two suggestive mentions, mentions of doxxing

author's note: chat!! @myrruwrites has officially motivated me to finish this draft, so PLEASE go check out their streamer!Jinx posts (more hcs here and fic here)!!! or really any post in general :P

── ⟢ streamer!Jinx in general

⭑.ᐟ streamer!Jinx who started streaming just for fun, not thinking much of it, and gets overwhelmed when her account starts gaining traction. She still doesn’t know if she likes it or not. Some days, she feels on top of the world; on others, it just makes her feel awkward.

⭑.ᐟ She mostly streams in her pajamas or other comfy clothes. On rare occasions, she’s wearing her rave outfit (smudged makeup, body paint, and all) because she didn’t change when she got back home and impulsively decided to stream. (rave girl!Jinx when?)

⭑.ᐟ streamer!Jinx who’s canceled every other week. She has no filter, nor does she care. She continues streaming, groaning loudly in annoyance if the chat brings up her latest controversy one too many times.

⭑.ᐟ Constantly arguing with kids if they annoy her. It was so over the moment Roblox added the mic feature. Her account almost got banned. She still does not care.

⭑.ᐟ streamer!Jinx who gets hilariously pouty at hate comments. She’s offended and does a bad job at hiding it.

– “Okay, so like… what IS wrong with my pants? Just out of curiosity, not that I care or whatever.”

⭑.ᐟ streamer!Jinx who knows she’s pretty but gets annoyed if someone comments on her appearance. It weirds her out. On the other hand, she’s also oblivious to how attractive she looks doing mundane things. (*cough* manspreading *cough*)

⭑.ᐟ She bans people on the spot for causing her the smallest of inconveniences. She’s on a power trip.

– “This is MY kingdom.”

⭑.ᐟ Her monitors are surrounded by post-it notes with random doodles, unfinished cryptic to-do lists, and stream ideas she quickly jotted down.

find a duck. real 1 this time

paint the thing spray paint purple 1st

buy more spray paint (green, pink, PURPLE)

get snacks (for her + me) + wires bolts

scope out the alley

test run #3

finish gift hehe

don’t forget to

⭑.ᐟ Contrary to popular belief, Jinx is a Redbull kind of girl, and her desk is proof of that. She used to be a Monster Energy fan, but she drank so much of it throughout the years that it made her sick.

⭑.ᐟ She constantly “improves” or “upgrades” her streaming gear with scraps from old tech. Some of it will be homemade, too.

⭑.ᐟ Her webcam is cracked, which makes the quality so shit that it brings a tear to her viewers’ eyes, so they beg her to get a proper one. She finally relents.

– “Here, damn. You guys are so spoiled. Now pay up since y’all wanted it so bad.”

‘omg the world is healing’

‘feels like getting new glasses’

‘this is a moment in history’

⭑.ᐟ Her mic quality fluctuates. Sometimes, it’s crisp; sometimes, it picks up loud static due to her “improvements.” It also completely cuts off if she screams too loud.

⭑.ᐟ Any gear she buys will be automatically customized the Jinx way: doodles upon doodles and paint splatters.

⭑.ᐟ She has a soundboard that features sound effects like classic explosions, the vine boom sound, the Among Us role reveal, the FNAF hallway sound, “YIPPEEE!”, the snoring man, a laughing track, clown circus music, and the Samsung “Morning flower” alarm (cursed version) amongst many others.

⭑.ᐟ Her webcam is tilted at weird angles half the time because she keeps bumping it while moving around.

⭑.ᐟ streamer!Jinx whose wifi cuts out way too often, and she blames it on “the government trying to stop her chaos”.

⭑.ᐟ Her streams never start on time. She either doesn’t acknowledge it or gives an over-the-top excuse. Viewers think she’s lying when she says she had to diffuse the toaster (she’s not).

⭑.ᐟ streamer!Jinx who loves clickbait titles. Plot twist: no one knows if it’s actual clickbait or if she’s serious when she writes “strapping fireworks to my chair :D”.

⭑.ᐟ She either streams with every. single. one. of her neon lights on (flashbanging new viewers in the process) or have no light at all, with her monitor illuminating ONLY her face in a way that makes it look like a dark web livestream.

⭑.ᐟ She’s so inconsistent with her streaming that her viewers never know when and if she’ll stream again. She randomly stops updating on her socials, too.

‘guys i think this might be it for her’

‘ho is u dead???’

<livestream notification> “SURPRISE, LOSERS—I’m (a)live! Didn’t see that coming, huh?”

‘omg she’s back’

‘diva is alive!!!’

– “You doubted me? You DOUBTED ME?!”

⭑.ᐟ streamer!Jinx who jumps between topics, games, and rants with no warning, leaving her viewers dizzy but entertained. Fans with ADHD love her.

⭑.ᐟ IF (by miracle) she runs out of things to talk about or gets bored with a game, she turns to her viewers.

– “Entertain me, jesters.”

⭑.ᐟ Her streams (suddenly) switch from hyperactive fun, where she’s practically bouncing in her chair, to intense focus, where she just glares at her screen with determination.

⭑.ᐟ streamer!Jinx who pranks her chat constantly. She’ll cut the video feed to show a jumpscare, laughing in the background while her viewers are freaking out.

⭑.ᐟ streamer!Jinx who pranks other streamers by sending her viewers over for a raid.

– “You just got jinxed!”

⭑.ᐟ Occasionally refers to her chat as the “Boom Crew” or “Jinxlings”.

⭑.ᐟ She reads the chat at lightning speed (most of the time she’ll misread it, too), responds to every third comment, and gets distracted mid-sentence.

⭑.ᐟ Her community is riddled with inside jokes like “press F for Sharky”. Sharky being her shark plushie, of course.

⭑.ᐟ Her mods barely keep up with the chaos in her chat. Occasionally, Jinx disables moderation completely and declares “anarchy hours.”

⭑.ᐟ She creates characters to embody on stream. “Sergeant Boom”, a gruff explosives expert, or “Miss Mayhem”, a villain plotting world domination. She commits to the bit so hard that she confuses new viewers.

⭑.ᐟ streamer!Jinx who’s a sore loser, and it doesn’t help when the chat is roasting the shit out of her after. 10000% rage quits and/or slams her keyboard. But she’s not above cheating to win, either—will call other cheaters out, though, genuinely crashing out.

– “Chat, what the FUCK, that’s not fair! It totally lagged!”

– “I’m literally never playing this shit again.” (spoiler: she plays this shit again).

⭑.ᐟ Her IRL streams would be infamous for their unpredictability. One moment, she’s exploring back alleys, and the next, she’s setting off fireworks in a parking lot. Don’t ask if it’s empty.

“Popular streamer arrested for destruction of property.”

⭑.ᐟ She once took her viewers to one of her graffiti sessions and encouraged the audience to vote on the designs.

“Popular streamer arrested for spray painting ‘obscene’ graffiti.”

⭑.ᐟ streamer!Jinx who disappears for a week after that, only to come back all pissy.

– “Chat, I’m on probation… I guess.”

⭑.ᐟ She has the most cursed keybinds imaginable. But hey, they work for her.

⭑.ᐟ “Jinx’s workshop”: a recurring segment where she tinkers with random gadgets on stream.

⭑.ᐟ streamer!Jinx who sets off confetti after each bit/donation.

⭑.ᐟ She disappears mid-stream and comes back in a shark onesie. She doesn’t acknowledge it.

⭑.ᐟ streamer!Jinx who puts her shark plushie in the middle of her chair if she has to take a break, leaving her headset on it.

– “Alright, Sharky’s taking over.” Sharky’s head is barely peeking out from under the desk, but he’s chill.

⭑.ᐟ For a girl as agile as her, she trips over her setup or falls off her chair a little too often. Yes, there is a compilation. Yes, she does react to it on stream and laughs so hard she tips her chair again.

⭑.ᐟ streamer!Jinx who, every now and then, drops her chaotic persona to thank her viewers for their support only to laugh it off right after. Or she’ll surprise them with genuine insight/advice.

⭑.ᐟ streamer!Jinx who starts venting in the middle of her stream. Sometimes, it’s pure angry nonsense; sometimes, she gets so emotional that she just suddenly ends the stream. She comes back sometime later, acting like nothing happened and gaslighting her viewers into thinking it was part of a skit.

⭑.ᐟ streamer!Jinx who announces every game dramatically. (yes, like that one scene with the monkey mic)

⭑.ᐟ streamer!Jinx who occasionally plays bootleg versions of popular games just to make her viewers suffer through them with her.

⭑.ᐟ She absolutely, 100%, modded her sims game. She also locked up sims in the basement and/or took the ladder from the pool.

⭑.ᐟ She plays Among Us just to leave the server if she doesn’t get impostor.

⭑.ᐟ Fortnite and Minecraft are her holy grail. Also enjoys Call of Duty, Overwatch, Apex Legends, Fall Guys, Garry’s Mod, and she’s an absolute menace in GTA V. Definitely a FNAF girl.

⭑.ᐟ Roblox?? Oh, she’s ON. Put her in the horror games. She’s screaming and laughing, bouncing on her chair (her energy’s infectious).

⭑.ᐟ She enjoys watching the fatalities in Mortal Kombat a little too much.

⭑.ᐟ She tried VR a few times and nearly took out her entire setup with how much she was flailing around.

⭑.ᐟ Don’t ask her to play choice-based games. She will intentionally choose the worst option possible just to watch it all burn.

⭑.ᐟ Absolutely hates narrative games (with few exceptions). She can’t keep up with the story (because she skips dialogues and cutscenes) and quits if the plot takes too long to develop. She never remembers the characters’ names either, so she’ll just rename them.

– “Blah, blah, blah… Boooooring. Next!” She then dramatically presses the skip button. “Wait, guys, who’s the dude again? I swear he looks sooo familiar.”

‘that’s the mc’s dad’

‘just put the fries in the bag…’

⭑.ᐟ streamer!Jinx who, despite the fact that she’s creative, has no official merch—only fan-made one with slogans like “I survived Jinx’s stream”.

⭑.ᐟ streamer!Jinx who ends her streams by shooting finger guns at her webcam. The feed cuts off right after the “pew”.

BONUS: just gamer!Jinx who owns a Nintendo Switch and a Nintendo DS which she decorated with cute little stickers and charms. They’re her babies—she carries one or the other at all times.

── ⟢ streamer!Jinx x (fem!)reader

⭑.ᐟ streamer!Jinx who tried to keep your relationship private at first, but she just couldn’t contain her excitement. She wanted to show you off. She introduced you as her “partner in crime” and then corrected herself to “partner in love” (because she’s cheesy like that).

⭑.ᐟ She loves dragging you into her streams. It doesn’t matter what she’s doing. Bonus: the viewers adore your dynamic.

– “I’m just happier when she’s here.”

⭑.ᐟ streamer!Jinx whose chat spams “SUMMON THE GF”. Sometimes it works.

⭑.ᐟ The viewers asked her about you so much the first time you didn’t appear on stream with her that she ended up jokingly saying, “I got dumped.” They rioted, and you walked in to smack her upside the head.

⭑.ᐟ You try to warn her against some of her ideas. Most of the time, she goes through with them anyway and is 100% surprised when they backfire.

‘JINX NO’

‘LISTEN TO HER’

‘JINX DON’T DO THAT’

⭑.ᐟ streamer!Jinx who genuinely starts tweaking if you get any hate comments (to the point of wanting to dox people) (she did dox people).

⭑.ᐟ You mute her mic mid-sentence if you feel like she’s about to say something controversial that will inevitably get her in trouble.

⭑.ᐟ streamer!Jinx who gets a second webcam just to capture your reactions. This also becomes a compilation, and she keeps rewatching it, giggling to herself (kicking her feet).

⭑.ᐟ She also randomly giggles at something off-camera—chat instantly assumes it’s because of you.

⭑.ᐟ She constantly talks/brags about you even when you’re not there, and she visibly lights up when she does. She makes chat say thank you for every act of service.

– “She made me pancakes before the stream. Chocolate chip ones. Take that, losers.”

– “She’s keeping me hydrated like a little plant. Say thank you, Jinxlings.”

– “She’s making me dinner after this stream. Wifey or what?”

⭑.ᐟ She also “complains” when you care about her health. She says you’re bullying her into it.

– “She told me to actually sleep last night. Can you believe that?”

– “She cut me some fruits. Even the grapes, for fuck’s sake! What am I, a toddler?” ….. “They’re good… I guess…”

⭑.ᐟ Going back to her having a soundboard, she uses the “YIPPEEE!” sound effect whenever you enter the room.

⭑.ᐟ streamer!Jinx who gets easily distracted when you’re doing something off-camera.

– “Chat, did you see that? She’s so perfect, ugh.”

– “I literally just made the bed.”

‘she’s down bad’

‘u guys make me sick’

⭑.ᐟ streamer!Jinx who notices that you fell asleep off-camera, so she shushes her chat and tries to whisper for the rest of the stream. Cue her raging/cheering silently, biting her fist so she won’t scream.

⭑.ᐟ She casually flirts with you on stream.

– “Who needs a win streak when I already won at life, huh?”

– “How am I supposed to focus when you’re sitting there looking like that?”

‘ew’

‘get a room’

– “We have one. Guess what happens in it,” she just replies with a smug grin.

⭑.ᐟ No shame, no filter 2.0.

– “Stream’s late ‘cause I was in pound town.”

– “JINX!”

– “What? They’re the ones all up in our business.”

⭑.ᐟ Physical affection also doesn’t end when she’s streaming. If anything, it makes it even better for her when people are watching. She has you in her lap whenever she can, and she melts at every little peck you give her.

⭑.ᐟ She claims that you’re her stream mascot (other than Sharky, of course).

⭑.ᐟ She calls you her lucky charm and demands a good luck kiss before each match or boss fight. If you don’t give it to her (why would you do that? give the pretty girl a kiss), she will (jokingly) blame you if she loses.

⭑.ᐟ You will sometimes pick out fun outfits to wear on stream together, like themed costumes, matching accessories, or cosplays (and Jinx refuses to break character the entirety of the stream). You once dressed up as each other.

⭑.ᐟ streamer!Jinx who tries to do a cute “heart hands” moment, but she gets distracted and ends up making a weird shape instead.

⭑.ᐟ streamer!Jinx who constantly forgets to unmute herself after ranting to you off-camera.

‘ho is u muted’

‘UNMUTE’

‘is she muted or just broke her mic fr this time’

⭑.ᐟ streamer!Jinx who tries to impress you with ridiculous in-game stunts.

– “Babe, watch this!” She then proceeds to set off some explosives, blowing up her character in the process. “…That wasn’t supposed to happen.”

⭑.ᐟ She immediately turns to you for comfort when she rage quits.

⭑.ᐟ You step in to calm her down during an intense or frustrating gameplay, usually by playing with her hair or tracing patterns on her back.

– “Alright, chaos queen, deep breath. You got this.”

⭑.ᐟ You once changed Jinx’s sub alert to say, “SUBSCRIBE SO JINX CAN AFFORD A FUNCTIONING BRAIN.”

⭑.ᐟ streamer!Jinx who made you one of her mods for a day. You nearly lost your mind. Safe to say you quit.

– “Babe, as much as I love you, this feels like running a daycare… if the daycare was on fire… and the kids had guns. Matter of fact, forget the daycare. This feels like the purge.”

⭑.ᐟ streamer!Jinx who, instead of upgrading her setup, spends the money she gains on her projects or on spoiling you. She got you a Nintendo that matches hers with games like Animal Crossing for you to unwind.

⭑.ᐟ She texts you updates like “broke my keyboard again. love you!!!!!!!!!! :p”

⭑.ᐟ She takes pride in teaching you how to play some of her favorite games. It’s even better when she sees you making actual progress and gaining skills.

⭑.ᐟ Sometimes, you both forget obvious things in the game, resulting in chat calling you “dumb and dumber”.

‘birds of a feather flock together’

‘one brain cell between them’

‘i think they lost said brain cell’

⭑.ᐟ She loves it when you play competitive games together, but if you think she’s going easy on you, you’d be dead wrong. She will throw the blue shell at you in Mario Kart with no remorse.

⭑.ᐟ SOMETIMES, she lets you win but in the worst possible way (like jumping off the map dramatically).

⭑.ᐟ Playing It Takes Two together, and it’s an absolute shitshow (but at least it’s funny).

⭑.ᐟ You create in-game versions of each other in customization games, and she’s definitely made you both in The Sims. She even gave you cats.

⭑.ᐟ steamer!Jinx who once started a stream, forgetting you were in the other room waiting for her. You came in to get her, pouting.

‘L+ratio+forgotten gf’

‘jinx you’re a dick’

⭑.ᐟ Co-op cooking streams where Jinx inevitably burns something.

⭑.ᐟ Crafting stream!!! But Jinx accidentally glued her hand to something, so now you have to help her.

⭑.ᐟ Doing each other’s nails/makeup on stream or simply painting (on) one another.

⭑.ᐟ Chill streams (and by that I mean just sitting around and talking) are a rarity, and they only happen if you’re around. She dislikes personal questions during Q&A’s but absolutely loves answering those concerning your relationship (doesn’t necessarily answer truthfully, though. She loves making up crazy stories about how you both met; the audience is still unsure which version is true).

BONUS: the “do my hair and Q&A” hc by @myrruwrites lives in my head rent free. I repeat: go check out their post.

⭑.ᐟ She livestreams some of your road trips.

– “This is totally our couple adventure arc.”

⭑.ᐟ She once streamed her planning a surprise for you. You weren’t home when you got the stream notification, and you joined it, curious to see what she was up to. She was so lost in her own world that she didn’t notice you until the surprise was spoiled.

– “Hey, who snitched? Y’all suck.”

⭑.ᐟ streamer!Jinx who wakes you up in the middle of the night to share her stream content ideas.

⭑.ᐟ Or she wakes you up by playing too loudly, and you have to physically drag her to bed.

⭑.ᐟ She just lays across you like a cat on off-days while watching dumb videos.

⭑.ᐟ You both rewatch her funniest stream moments together before bed, laughing at all the dumb things she said and cheering loudly at her clutch wins.

⭑.ᐟ streamer!Jinx who signs off streams with a sly grin, saying, “Alright, I’m off to bother my girlfriend now”.

── ⟢ streamer!Jinx x streamer!reader

⭑.ᐟ Everyone knows you’re dating (no matter how much you tried to hide it at first), so you have a shared fanbase.

⭑.ᐟ Your streaming room is divided. It may seem like a bad idea considering the chaotic energy she brings to her streams, but she enjoys having you close by. You’re used to the noise anyway.

⭑.ᐟ Matching setups!!!!

⭑.ᐟ You make sure that Jinx has everything she needs before her stream, while she hypes you up before yours.

⭑.ᐟ Her crashing out in the background of your streams is such a recurring thing that it ends up becoming a meme.

⭑.ᐟ She once got caught humming softly to herself in the background of your stream which made the chat go absolutely wild.

‘JINX SOFT ARC’

‘i cannot believe my ears’

‘wait so she’s normal?’

⭑.ᐟ She frequently sends her viewers over to raid your stream with a message that says, “TELL HER I LOVE HER”.

⭑.ᐟ She takes over your stream when you take a bathroom break, or she’ll just lean into the mic and whisper, “Chat, she’s like SO pretty” before running away like a gremlin.

⭑.ᐟ Jinx once hacked into your stream settings just to change the title to something cursed or extra cheesy.

⭑.ᐟ She crashes your stream if she’s bored with hers.

⭑.ᐟ Reacting to fanfics together. It starts sickeningly sweet, only to crash and burn once Jinx starts picking the wilder ones.

⭑.ᐟ Sometimes you manage to have a chill, rainy-day stream together where you play cozy games.

⭑.ᐟ Jinx “accidentally” friendly fires you in shooters and then apologizes dramatically.

⭑.ᐟ She also “accidentally” finds you in online games. She swears she’s not stream-sniping, but no one believes her.

⭑.ᐟ She leaves heart-shaped patterns in Minecraft or Fortnite for you to find.

⭑.ᐟ Automatically teaming up against everyone else in multiplayer lobbies.

⭑.ᐟ You get assigned to opposite teams? It’s either cutthroat and tests your relationship, or you’re helping each other out (much to your teammates’ dismay).

⭑.ᐟ Although she’s known for streaming late herself, she whines if you do the same, claiming she can’t sleep without you (half-true).

⭑.ᐟ She wraps her arms around you from behind or drapes herself over your lap whenever she needs closeness or attention, watching you play.

⭑.ᐟ Or she’ll just unceremoniously end your stream to steal you away.

entering Jinx’s stream:

[epicfailsorrymom]

Okay who tf decide that Father Paul is a Top/Dom??? Yall are liars that is one of the most submissive and breedable men I have ever seen

[joaniscruzing]

echoes in the elixirs

WOOHOOOO yay this fic is finally done! i had so much fun writing this! thank you to everyone who supported the last fic i did, i was so happy to see so much interest! special shoutout to @joj0-thesimp for requesting and proofreading beforehand! per usual, requests are ALWAYS welcome! I write for jinx, vi and caitlyn, and do take smut requests.

also, i did my research on the herbs. a good amount of people predict that Jinx struggles with schizophrenia, which its symptoms can be alleviated with ginkgo. please let me know if my research is wrong, that way i can fix this :)

summary: jinx, looking rather off, enters your apothecary, to which you take care of her for the night.

warnings: mention of jinx's mental health issues, mention of seizures, lots of fluff, herbs are basically meds for jinx, jinx needs a hug, one-bed trope, cuddling

“Have a great day!” you called as you gave your product to your client. In the Undercity, every day in the apothecary was quite a busy one. Hundreds of people would file in every day, as they would trade in for your elixirs and remedies that would cure their pain and suffering, even if it was just for a while. The atmosphere was always loud and bustling, making you struggle to keep up.

However, when Jinx would arrive in your shop, things would usually calm down for the amount of time she was there. Business would slow down, and it was usually just you and her alone in the store. Or maybe it wasn’t, and you were just so enamored by Jinx to even notice. Either way, Jinx was your one time to stop and take a breather during the day, which was ironic, considering her electrifying, energetic presence. 

“So, do you have my order, sugar?” Jinx would ask when she would enter.

“Sure do! Right here,” you’d always answer. However, today, there was something different. Jinx seemed like there was some sort of hole inside her. She hadn’t shown up for a while, since Silco had died, Piltover had been attacked, and she had had to hide to stay alive.

Today, however, she entered the store, a hood over her head, and her head low. Not to your surprise, instead of greeting you with those words, she browsed the store first, looking around, and generally not communicating with anyone. Understandable. However, you saw she was shaking as if winter’s frost had bitten her, and she had been without a coat. Trying not to overthink it too much, you went on with your business, packing up and giving your orders and occasionally convincing customers to buy more. When your final order was given, you left your table to check up on Jinx.

“Hey Jinx, are you okay?”

She seemed startled by your words, as if she didn’t expect you to come up to her and ask her that. She immediately tried to leave the store, ultimately avoiding your question.

“Jinx!” you called after her, grabbing her arm. “Do you need anything?”

“Yeah,” Jinx admitted, choked up in tone, “I need a shit ton of ginkgo biloba. More than you usually give.” Your stomach drops. Fortunately, now you know exactly what’s going on, and what you can do to help her.

“Is it getting worse?” you ask, turning Jinx around, and holding her shoulder. Her face was all you needed as an answer. Tear streaks lined her face, black and mixed up with her makeup. Her fingernails were unpainted and outlined with her blood from picking at the skin around it so much. The only distinct features that stayed were her two long braids, still hanging off her head and cascading past her waist to her ankles.

“With Silco dead, I just… don’t feel important anymore. They’re getting louder. I can’t sleep, or work, or do anything, I-” Jinx divulges, her head in her hands. You remove her hands from her face and replace them with your own.

“Jinx, do you need to stay here tonight? I can make you some food, and make you a nice tea with the ginkgo, as well as some lavender to calm you down. Whatever you need.”

“How much ginkgo?”

“The usual dosage I give you. Any more could make things a lot worse. Plus, the lavender will calm you down, help you sleep.”

“How much worse? Like what, I pass out for a week or something?”

“Jinx, have you ever heard of a seizure?”

“Oh. I guess I could stay the night. It’s not like I have anything better to do at home or anything.” With that, you closed up your shop, locking the doors, and covering the windows, that way no one knew you were secretly housing Piltover’s most wanted criminal.

You took the time to make Jinx a nice meal, as you knew she already didn’t eat enough, let alone whatever her eating habits were during this tough time of hers. As the meal cooked, you also ground up some lavender and ginkgo, which you then put into a bag in order to prepare her tea. After that, you left the kitchen in the back of your shop real quick to check on Jinx.

“Shut up! She wants to help me, I know it!” you heard her shouting, pacing around the room. Before you knew what you were doing, you ran up to her and hugged her as tightly as you could, making sure she knew that you did care. You heard her breathing slow down, and her body unwind as her tense state left her.

“You good, Jinx?” you asked. She pulled away to look at you, surprised.

“Why do you even care this much?”

“Look, you’ve told me a few things about yourself here and there. And it sucks. Other than the herbs I know you need to calm down, I know you need to be taken care of right now. You need someone to be there for you. And I want to be there for you right now.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re nice to be around.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re funny, and caring, and innovative, and your presence always brightens my day.” With this, Jinx’s round, purple eyes widen.

“I brighten your day?”

“Yes, Jinx. You brighten my day. I look forward to seeing you on the days you’re to come pick up your herbs just so I can see you, even if it’s for a few minutes. Jinx, everyone here is so down to business, and you’re the one who always lingers. Well, sometimes. Other times you were afraid of getting caught for sneaking out, so you were in and out.”

Jinx hugs you this time, burying her face in your chest.

“You’re a good person, don’t ever forget that,” Jinx discloses, tightening her grip.

“Okay, hate to let you go, but I do need to check in on the food and tea.” Jinx holds on as you struggle your way to the kitchen, making sure the food didn’t burn during the moment between the two of you. Luckily, everything was ready, and in about five minutes, dinner had been served for you both. Jinx’s tea helped her greatly, calming her down. The sense of calmness in her eyes brought relief to yours, as you were glad to know that Jinx’s head would slow down for a bit. She was also happy to eat the meal you cooked, which, per your prediction, was the first proper meal she had had in a very long time. After your scrumptious meal, you both prepared for bed. However, there was one small kink in the works of your plan to take care of Jinx; there was only one bed.

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” you assured, “I can sleep on the floor.”

“Are you sure? I can sleep there too,” Jinx replied. You put your foot down though, insisting that she needed a proper sleep. It truly didn’t worry you at all. You began to lay down on the ground, preparing for your sleep. Just as you were about to close your eyes, you heard Jinx’s voice from the corner.

“Could you maybe sleep in the bed with me?”

“Yeah, is everything okay?”

“I just, haven’t slept in a new place that wasn’t where I was holed up in for a long time. Plus, you’re comforting to be around.” You get up, pillows and blankets in your arms, and settle into the bed with Jinx. She clutches onto your waist, her legs wrapping around yours. It takes every fiber in you to not turn around and spoon Jinx right there and then. However, your bountiful dinner, Jinx’s tea, and the calming atmosphere put both of you right to sleep.

so. i originally was going to make this some sort of a love story, but i felt like i couldn't considering jinx's mental state in this fic. shall i draft a part 2/ time jump where they get together?

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[rinadragomir]

Cancel this show RIGHT FUCKING NOW