#i don’t think he’s done anything wrong?

[luveline]

Hey lovely !! <3 could we see Spencer’s bombshell! Reader going into labour at the BAU but trying to downplay it like Pam did on the office !! (So sorry if you’ve already done a request like this) <333 have a lovely day ☺️

thank you <3 pregnant!reader, 1.3k

“Spencer?” 

Spencer groans into his pillow. 

Your hand slips onto his stomach. “Spencer, can you wake up?” 

“No,” he mumbles, lifting his head off of one of the many pillows of your bed. He thought his bed at his apartment was comfortable, but Spencer has never slept so well as he does in your new bed, in your new home, with you warming the sheets beside him. What a miracle to live with you, the rush to get everything done before your due date complete. 

You make a strange noise, hard to see in the dark as he opens his eyes. “What’s wrong?” he asks. 

You struggle into a sitting position. Angel, he thinks sympathetically, you’re fit to burst, your baby bump as big as it’s going to get and awfully heavy. He sits up with you, putting his hand behind your back. “Baby?” he prompts. 

“I think,” —you sound meek, not yourself, each word said reluctantly— “that I’m having real contractions.” 

Spencer’s head isn’t working. He takes a few seconds to hear you, and then another few to realise what you’ve said. “Are you sure?” 

“They’re really painful.” 

Braxton Hicks (which you’ve had, and not enjoyed) aren’t usually really painful. They’re also irregular. “How many have you had? Has it been long?” he asks. 

“Maybe five. They’re like…” You take his hand. “They’re like, they go on for ages. I’ve never felt anything like it.” 

“So you’re in labour,” he says, grasping your hand back. “Definitely. Let me get my watch, I need to time your contractions. Are you okay?” 

“Oh, no,” you say, shaking your head. “I’m not in labour. I’m going in to labour.”  

“It’s the same thing,” he says. He has boxes and boxes of mental knowledge explaining the difference, but he’s too excited to catch your strange tone. “I’ll be right back.” 

He races from the bed to the bathroom where he’d left his watch. You should be having contractions far apart at this point, around fifteen to twenty minute gaps, but it could be much further or far sooner, and Spencer doesn’t know when you had your last. He needs to time them properly so he knows when to take you to the hospital. 

“Good thing we packed your bag yesterday morning, huh?” he asks, sliding back into bed with a huge smile on his face. “And you showered last night, you’re ready to go. I have all our things in the trunk, but Morgan’s gonna have to come and do the car seat, I forgot all about it.” 

You shake your head again. 

He worries it’s from pain. “Is it starting?” 

“No, no, I’m not having any. I think it’s just cramps, actually.” 

“What?” He puts his hand on your bump. “That’s what they feel like, honey, it’s cramps, it’s your cervix contracting, it feels just like a cramp.” 

“No, I don’t think so.” 

Spencer cups your cheek, his fingertips sliding softly to the corner of your eye, his thumb by your nose. You look younger without any makeup on, younger still with your creeping frown. “Hey,” he says, his voice half breath, hoping you’ll look him in the eye, “hey, what’s going on?” 

Your eyebrows start to pinch down. “It’s not labour.” 

“Is something wrong?” 

“I’m not having her.” 

“She had to come out some time,” he says, attempting to be funny and lighten the mood. 

“I really think it’s fine. I’m just having those Braxton Hicks again, it’s too far from my due date–”

“Angel, it’s a week away. We knew it could happen now.” He strokes your cheek again. “We don’t have to go yet. Let me time a couple of your contractions and see what we’re working with.” 

“It’s not…” You duck your head. The catch of pain gets you, and Spencer checks his watch. Four minutes past four in the morning, the longest hand at five seconds. Then he looks for your hand again to hold in his, his own panic backseated by your denial. “They’re not that bad,” you say stiffly. 

“That’s good, honey, but they’re going to get worse. Remember what we said, huh? The pain will get really bad, but there’s nothing to be afraid of. We have a plan.” 

“It’s not real.” 

“Baby,” he says, tugging your hand imploringly to his chest, his voice having descended to a place it so rarely goes, “what are you scared of?” 

“That I can’t do it,” you say. 

“Is your contraction over?” he asks, noticing the laxening of your fingers. 

“Yeah.”

He’s silent for a few seconds. 

“Is there anything in the entire world that you can’t do?” 

You sniff. 

“Seriously. I can’t name a single thing you can’t do. This isn’t different. It’s going to be scary and painful, and it’s not something I want for you, not really, but you’re about to have a baby.” He rubs your thumb, ducking his head in the hopes that the movement will make you raise your own. “Our baby. We’ve waited such a long time.” 

“Nine months.” 

“Thirty nine weeks and two days. That's two hundred and seventy five days waiting. This is a good thing,” he says, meeting your eyes the moment you raise your head. “The waiting is over. This is the fun part.”

“‘Cos our girl is coming,” you say. 

He grins. “Exactly! I know you’re scared, but thinking you can’t do it? Of course you can. And I’m gonna be with you the whole time.” 

“You promise?”

“Of course I do.” 

You wipe your eyes with the backs of your hands. Spencer lets his palm fall onto your thigh. It really is going to hurt. It’s gonna be pain like you’ve never felt before, and he’s terrified of everything that could go wrong, but what’s important now is making sure you know you’re going to be alright. 

“You’re going to be a beautiful mom,” he says, rubbing your thigh, softer from time spent resting. “I’m so excited I can’t describe it. This time, the day after tomorrow, we could be here with her. We’ll be putting her down to sleep in the nursery in her newborn onesie we picked out, the–”

“Little rabbits,” you say, the hint of a smile on your lips. 

“I can’t wait to see her face.” 

“Her little fingers.” 

“Her nose, her eyes–”

“You said babies have their moms hands.” 

He smiles. “I have my mom’s. Can you imagine? And we get to find out today.” 

You let him touch your stomach. “I know what you’re doing.”

“You always do.” 

“I’m so scared.” 

“Sweetheart, let me be the scared one.” 

“You’re not gonna dilate ten centimetres!” 

“You’ve probably already done one,” he says. “Just nine more to go.” 

His joke doesn’t land. To his horror, you end up sniffling and locked up with panic. He rubs your back in long sweeps, feeling younger than ever kneeling in bed at your side, minutes droning on. He’s pulling your head into his neck thinking he’s completely out of your depth when you say, “It’s starting again, Spence.” 

He checks his watch. “That’s eleven minutes.” 

Your contractions will get worse soon, and closer together. You probably don’t have long until it starts, and labour might go on for hours. To do this, you're going to have to believe That you can. 

Spencer takes your face into his hands and looks you right in the eyes. “You can do this. I know you can.” He pecks you gently. “Angel, if anyone in the world can do this, it’s you.” 

You take a deep breath. He watches your nerves turn to determination, turn to love. “I know.” 

“Is there anything you need me to do before we start getting ready to leave?” 

You give a soft smile. “Kiss for luck?” 

He’s gonna need it. 

[littlelamy]

Rafe x Reader request: They’ve been going on a few dates, with Rafe in the hopes to get in in her pants. Rafe has been more of a fuckboy, lots of experience, kicks girls out as soon as it’s done and have they been inexperienced – he’s kicked them out straight away before anything happens, not having any energy to ‘’teach’’. Cue to Reader and him about to get intimate, she confesses to being a virgin and he kicks her out. HOWEVER……he this time feels like absolute shit about seeing how sad she got and realizes he has fallen for her….and he tries to fix it (happy ending)

a/n: thank you for request, hope you like it!!💗

rafe cameron was never one to think much beyond the moment. he didn’t overanalyze his hookups, didn’t question why they always left with messy hair and no promises of a second date. he had a rhythm to his life, and it worked for him. girls came and went, his phone a revolving door of contacts he didn’t even bother saving half the time.

until you showed up.

it wasn’t just that you were beautiful—plenty of girls were. but you had this quiet confidence about you, a way of looking at him that didn’t scream take me home now. you made him work for your attention, your time, your smiles. and god, he wanted to work for it.

the first few dates were surprisingly normal. no wild nights, no sneaky excuses to get you alone in his room. you made him laugh, made him feel something he hadn’t in years—light, easy, like he could just be rafe without any expectations. but tonight, as you sat on his couch, sipping wine and smiling at him in that way that made his chest ache, rafe couldn’t ignore the tension humming between you any longer.

he leaned in, testing the waters with a soft brush of his lips against yours. when you didn’t pull away, he kissed you again, deeper this time, his hands sliding to your waist. you melted into him, your fingers tangling in his hair, and that was all the invitation he needed.

rafe pulled you closer, his hands wandering beneath your shirt, his kisses growing more urgent. but just as his fingers brushed against the clasp of your bra, you stiffened, pulling back suddenly.

“wait,” you whispered, your voice shaky.

rafe froze, his hands stilling as he searched your face. “what’s wrong?”

you bit your lip, looking anywhere but at him. “i… i need to tell you something.”

his heart sank, the worst possibilities flashing through his mind. “what is it?”

“i’ve never done this before,” you said quietly, barely audible.

the words hung in the air, heavy and unexpected. rafe blinked, his mind struggling to catch up. “you mean…?”

“i’m a virgin,” you clarified, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

the room suddenly felt too small, too quiet. rafe sat back, running a hand through his hair as he tried to process. a virgin. you were a virgin. he hadn’t expected that. he hadn’t planned for that.

“shit,” he muttered under his breath.

you pulled your knees to your chest, your voice small. “i’m sorry. i should’ve told you sooner.”

“no, it’s not…” rafe trailed off, shaking his head. “it’s not your fault. it’s just… i don’t think i’m the right guy for this.”

your eyes shot up to meet his, wide with confusion and hurt. “what do you mean?”

“i mean… i don’t think i can give you what you deserve for your first time,” he said, his voice hollow. “you should be with someone who can… i don’t know, make it special or whatever. someone who knows how to handle that.”

the words tasted bitter as he said them, but he convinced himself it was the right thing to do. he wasn’t the guy for you, not for something this big. he couldn’t risk screwing it up.

you stood abruptly, grabbing your bag. “i see.”

“wait—”

“no, it’s fine,” you interrupted, your voice trembling as you headed for the door. “thanks for letting me know where we stand.”

rafe didn’t stop you. he didn’t know how. the door clicked shut behind you, and the silence that followed was deafening.

the guilt hit him almost immediately.

rafe spent the next few days trying to ignore the gnawing pit in his stomach, but it was useless. every time he closed his eyes, he saw the hurt on your face, the way your voice cracked when you said thanks for letting me know where we stand.

he tried to tell himself he did the right thing. he wasn’t equipped for this. he wasn’t worthy of this. but that reasoning felt thinner with every passing hour.

by the third sleepless night, he couldn’t take it anymore.

you weren’t expecting to see rafe when you opened the door. he stood there with a sheepish expression, holding a bouquet of flowers that looked suspiciously last-minute.

“hi,” he said, his voice uncharacteristically soft.

you crossed your arms, leaning against the doorframe. “what do you want?”

“i came to apologize.”

“for what?” you asked, your tone sharp.

“for being a fucking idiot,” he said, his words tumbling out in a rush. “i handled things wrong, and i know i hurt you. i didn’t mean to, but i did, and i’m sorry.”

you stared at him, your defenses still firmly in place. “why now?”

rafe sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “because i haven’t stopped thinking about you since that night. because i was wrong to push you away, and i hate that i made you feel like i didn’t care.”

your heart softened despite yourself, but you weren’t ready to let him off the hook just yet. “and what happens if i let you back in? do you just push me away again the second things get complicated?”

“no,” he said firmly, stepping closer. “i won’t. i swear. i just… i freaked out because i’ve never felt this way about anyone before, and it scared the hell out of me. but i’m done running from it. from you.”

the vulnerability in his voice, the sincerity in his eyes, made your resolve crack. slowly, you stepped aside, letting him in.

rafe didn’t rush you after that.

he was patient in a way you hadn’t expected, taking the time to get to know you in ways that had nothing to do with sex. he remembered the little things you told him—your favorite coffee order, the song that always made you cry, the way you liked your eggs in the morning.

and gradually, the walls between you began to crumble.

it was weeks later, on a quiet friday night, that things came full circle. you were sitting on his couch again, your legs tucked under you as you watched a movie. his arm was draped casually over your shoulders, his thumb tracing absentminded circles on your skin.

when you turned to look at him, he was already watching you, his gaze soft and warm.

“what?” you asked, smiling.

“nothing,” he said, his lips twitching into a grin. “you’re just really fucking cute.”

you rolled your eyes, but your cheeks flushed. “shut up.”

he didn’t. instead, he leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was slow and deliberate. his hand cupped your cheek, tilting your face to deepen the kiss.

this time, when his hands wandered, you didn’t stop him.

“are you sure?” he asked, his voice low and husky.

you nodded, your eyes locked on his. “i’m sure.”

rafe didn’t rush. he took his time, every touch, every kiss deliberate and reverent. he didn’t just want you—he wanted to make you feel safe, cherished.

and when it was over, he didn’t pull away. instead, he held you close, his arms wrapped tightly around you as if letting go would mean losing you all over again.

for the first time in his life, rafe cameron didn’t feel the need to run. he didn’t feel the need for anyone else.

he just wanted you.

and he wasn’t going to mess it up again.

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @kissrotten @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl l @evermorx89 @aariahnaa @outerhills @ditzyzombiesblog

[p1astr81]

second place

In which: Lando can’t balance his work life and his personal life, and loses his girl as a result.

pairing: Lando Norris x pop star!reader

warnings: angst, all hurt/no comfort, use of y/n

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ ‧

All night, you’d been glancing over to the vip section on the floor. With each look over, you’d hoped to see his smiling face magically appear, but it never came.

Disappointed? Yes. Surprised? Shocked? No.

This wasn’t the first incident. Last month, he forgot about two dates. Dates you planned on your own. And it’s almost everyday now that his phone goes to voicemail whenever you call him. Then you’d shoot him a text and he would get back to you hours later with a half-assed apology about being on the sim or studying data.

The two of you talked about it once. He promised to be better. To try harder. Spoiler alert: nothing changed.

Of course, you understood him. To an extent. You knew the stress he was under. Being expected to perform with absolute perfection week after week would put anyone under intense pressure.

You should know. You have been there. You are there, in the same situation with your own career. You’d been on tour. You were constantly tired, but still managed to make time for him.

On the other hand, it seemed Lando either didn’t care to make time for you, or couldn’t manage his time.

It didn’t matter either way. You were done with this. With him. You felt like he didn’t give a single fuck about you anymore and it was mentally draining you. Despite your desperate attempts at keeping your relationship afloat, the thin ice that was upholding the relationship had been slowly cracking over the last few months, and tonight was the fatal fissure. You were drowning in the ice cold water. Alone.

You sat in your dressing room, still in the sparkling dress you’d just run off stage in. You wiped the makeup from your face. The tears made that easier.

Lando cautiously opened the door, the guilt and regret settling heavy on his shoulders when he sees the state of you through the mirror. You make brief eye contact with him in the reflection, and continue as if you never saw him.

“Y/n,” he started, remorse dripping from his voice. You don’t reply. “Baby, I’m so sorry.” He apologized, but the words no longer meant anything to you. He’d said them so many times that they became insignificant.

He moved across the room to give you a hug. You dodge his touch, jumping from your seat. He looks hurt at the gesture, but for the first time, you can’t bring yourself to care about how he feels.

“Y/n, I fucked up. I know. Please,” he pleaded. Something between a scoff and a laugh came from your mouth. You wiped the tears from your face with the heel of your hand. “Your words don’t mean shit to me anymore.” Nothing was funny, but you laughed. You shook your head. “Do you know how hard this was? To get our schedules to line up like this?” You left a space for him to answer, but he said nothing. “I had to persuade my team for weeks, Lando. Weeks.” He just stared at you, his brows pulled together ever so slightly. “And you don’t even seem to care.” You threw your arms out to the side, your voice cracking.

“Don’t- don’t say that. I do care. I care about you.” He reached for you again, but you took a step back to avoid his grasp. “You do a pretty shit job of showing it.” You fire back.

Lando scoffed. “What do you want from me?!” He demanded. You take a deep breath. “To try. Like you said you would the first time we had this conversation, remember?” Your voice wobbles from the tears that you’re struggling to hold back.

Lando rolls his eyes. Turning away from you he muttered an, “oh my god,” as if you were crazy for thinking he was in the wrong. “This is insane. I have a job and it always comes first.” You cross your arms over your chest. “I have a job too, but the difference is: I make time for you.” You point an accusatory finger at him.

He shook his head. “You don’t get it. It’s not the same for you. No one is expecting you to be perfect every single weekend.”

That gets a laugh out of you. A hysterical breakdown that confused Lando. “You don’t think people expect perfection from me?” He doesn’t answer the question. “Get out. Get out. I don’t want to see you again. I don’t want to hear from you again. I’m done with you.”

It was Lando’s turn to laugh. The sound mocked you. “What? Over something as small as this? C’mon, you’re not being reasonable.” There it was again, the feeling that he was calling you crazy.

“It’s not about this one situation, it’s about the whole principle of the matter. You’re putting zero effort into this relationship and it’s killing me. And I don’t care if you think I’m being unreasonable because I’ve made up my mind. I’m done with you.” Lando stared, waiting for you to take back what you said, but it was never going to come. Lando scoffed a final time and left the dressing room.

While the weight of the relationship had been taken off your shoulders, your legs couldn’t uphold the weight of your heartbreak any longer. You fell to the floor, hugging your arms around yourself as your own sobs shook your body.

You didn’t hear the door open, but soon felt the arms of someone around you. “No,” you hiccup, pushing the person away, assuming it was Lando. “Hey, it’s just me.” The voice belonged to one of your backup dancers and close friend, and you settled into his arms as he comforted your broken form.

[bandsofmarv]

Claimed by the devil

Rafe Cameron has always been possessive, but his obsession with you has spiraled into something far darker. When he sees you laughing with JJ Maybank at a party, the thin thread of control he clings to snaps.

TW - obsessive behaviour, jealousy.

The party was loud and chaotic, the bass from the music vibrating through the Cameron estate. You were at the bar with JJ, your drink in hand, laughing at one of his stories. It had been so long since you felt at ease—since you felt like yourself. JJ’s carefree energy had a way of pulling you out of the shadows, if only for a moment.

But Rafe Cameron didn’t miss anything. Especially when it came to you.

From across the room, Rafe’s sharp blue eyes tracked your every move, the faintest smile on your lips sending a wave of fury through him. That smile was his. Not JJ’s. Not anyone else’s.

He stood in the corner, drink in hand, his knuckles white as he gripped the glass. He didn’t blink as he watched JJ lean closer to you, his hand brushing yours when you handed him your drink.

Rafe’s vision blurred with anger. No one touched what was his.

Before you even realized he was there, Rafe was standing beside you, his hand gripping your waist with bruising force.

“Hey, babe,” he said, his tone deceptively calm but his eyes burning with rage. “You looked a little too comfortable over here.”

You stiffened under his touch, instinctively pulling away. “Rafe, I was just—”

“You were just what?” Rafe interrupted, his gaze flicking to JJ with a deadly glare. “Entertaining him?”

JJ raised his hands, stepping back slightly. “Relax, Rafe. We were just talking.”

“Talking,” Rafe sneered, his hand tightening around your waist. “That what you’re calling it now? You’re lucky I didn’t put you through that wall for standing this close to her.”

“Rafe, stop it,” you said, your voice shaking. “He didn’t do anything wrong.”

“You don’t get to tell me to stop,” Rafe snapped, his voice rising. “Do you even hear yourself? Defending him in front of me?”

JJ’s jaw clenched, his usual laid-back demeanor gone. “She doesn’t need to defend me, Cameron,” he said, his voice steady. “You’re out of line.”

Rafe let out a cold laugh, his eyes narrowing. “Out of line? You’re standing here, trying to take what’s mine, and I’m out of line?”

“Rafe, you’re making a scene,” you said, tugging at his arm.

“I don’t give a damn about the scene,” he snapped, his attention laser-focused on JJ. “I care about the fact that this piece of trash thinks he can even breathe the same air as you.”

“Maybe because I’m not treating her like a possession,” JJ shot back, his voice cutting. “Ever think about that, Cameron?”

Rafe’s face twisted with fury, and he lunged forward, shoving JJ hard. “You don’t talk about her like you know her, Pogue. You don’t know a damn thing about what we have.”

“Rafe, stop it!” you cried, stepping between them and pressing your hands against his chest.

But Rafe wasn’t listening. His eyes flicked to you, wild and unhinged. “Why are you protecting him?” he demanded, his voice shaking with a mix of anger and desperation. “You should be here with me, not laughing with him like he means something to you.”

You took a step back, your heart pounding. “Rafe, this is insane. You can’t keep acting like this.”

“I’m acting like this because I care,” he said, his voice softening for just a moment before the anger bled back in. “No one else will protect you the way I do. No one else will love you like I do.”

“You’re not protecting me,” you said, tears filling your eyes. “You’re suffocating me.”

Rafe froze, his face contorting in pain. “Suffocating you? I’ve done everything for you. I’ve fought for you, protected you, and this is what I get? You don’t understand what it’s like to love someone so much that it hurts.”

“I don’t want it to hurt,” you said, your voice breaking.

JJ reached out, grabbing your hand gently and pulling you back. “You don’t have to deal with this, Y/N,” he said softly. “Come with me. You’re not safe with him.”

The moment Rafe saw JJ’s hand on yours, something in him snapped. He grabbed your wrist, yanking you back to his side with a bruising grip.

“She’s not going anywhere with you,” Rafe said, his voice cold and lethal. “Do you hear me? She’s mine.”

“Let her go,” JJ said, his voice steady but full of warning.

“She doesn’t want to go with you,” Rafe hissed, his grip tightening. “Do you, baby? Tell him. Tell him you’re staying with me.”

You looked at Rafe, his face a mix of fury and desperation, and then at JJ, his steady gaze full of concern and care.

“Rafe…” you started, your voice trembling but Rafe cut you off. “No,” he said, shaking his head. “Don’t even think about it. Don’t think for one second that you can walk away from me. You belong to me. You always have.”

The weight of his words crushed you, the possessiveness in his voice sending a chill down your spine. You opened your mouth to respond, but the words wouldn’t come.

JJ stepped forward, pulling you firmly out of Rafe’s grip. “She doesn’t belong to you, Cameron,” he said, his voice steady. “You need to let her go.”

Rafe’s eyes darkened, his chest heaving as he glared at JJ. “She’s not leaving me,” he said, his voice low and venomous. “Not now. Not ever.”

But for the first time, you stepped back, your hand in JJ’s. “I can’t do this anymore, Rafe,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Rafe’s face twisted with fury and heartbreak, and he took a step toward you. “You’re making a mistake,” he said, his voice trembling. “You think he can love you like I do? No one can. No one will.”

As JJ led you away, Rafe’s voice echoed behind you, a dangerous promise in every word.

“You’ll regret this, Y/N,” he called out. “You’ll come back. You always do.”

But for the first time, you weren’t so sure.

[drinkabletoxicdishsoap]

the fandom’s characterization of peri becoming a father to dev will always be interesting to me because where it did it even come from ???

I mean in operation birthday takeback, bro CLEARLY did not care. He honestly seemed so disinterested and didn’t even care when they went into his dad’s private office by accident. He didn’t seem care or smile for his godkid when he was happy. Even got a little mean when Hazel made a nice wish for him with the rocket boots (“Well that should keep him entertained for about 10 minutes” or smth like that)

Lost in Fairy World he didn’t really seem to care either??? he really only just wanted his wand and to ‘look good’ in front of his godkid and do things his way without his parents interfering. Sort of like how a babysitter wants to look good in front of the family of the kid they’re looking after if that makes sense.

The only time we ever seen him actually care about dev was in the finale when he said that. But even after fairy world got turned to normal he didn’t really seem sad about dev??? he was just smiling after, seemed genuine too and not a fake one. Maybe it’s just me, but if I was a fairy and lost my first godkid, who took over my home, I would be doing anything BUT smiling, even if we won in the end. Peri doesn’t seem like one to hide his emotions easily either (maybe I’m reading into his character wrong)

You could bring up best of luck, which I would say is a fair point, but I’m going to bring back the babysitter/job synonym. Wouldn’t you get jealous of the person that stole your position or place in a work environment after you got fired?? Especially if your rival/enemy took that position?? I PERSONALLY don’t think the jealousy comes from a place of care, but maybe that’s just me.

It could honestly just be the fandom’s way of coping since Dev doesn’t seem to have any good people in his life after the finale, but why Peri? I mean if you really want to make one of the fairies a father figure to dev, I’d say the anti fairies more over are his family but that’s IF we have to choose.

Don’t get me wrong, I do think all of the peri and dev being a father son duo is super cute and heartwarming!! I love seeing all of the art and fics of that because it really is sweet :3 but to me, it just doesn’t really make sense and seems more out of character for Peri if anything.

He seems to care more about following Da Rules in my opinion. And while I do think it’s important to follow rules, especially when it comes to a job, you shouldn’t rely on them. At a job, you shouldn’t be constantly looking over rules to make sure you’re following them, you might end up tripping over yourself. That’s what Peri ended up doing.

If I assign the duo as anything, it would be the tired babysitter who just wants to get paid and the kid he’s looking after. A dude working a 9-5 at his job he couldn’t really care less about (dev).

I mean (only from his words) he wanted to go into the family business. Not because he genuinely cares for kids, but because it’s what his family has done. He’s treating godparenting as work, not stepping into a kids family and genuinely looking after them.

I do wonder if he would act the same way if he had an easier godkid.

BUT!!!! that’s just my thoughts. I’m sorry if I got anything wrong and feel me to correct me if I did !! Also if you disagree with anything that I’m saying, tell me why in either the replies or reblogs !! I would love to hear other people’s perspectives or opinions.

That’s it 😨 thank you so much for coming to another yap session and I hope you have a great day/night wherever you are in the world <3

[venusswhite]

A Thousand Years | Arcane Vi x Fem Leitora (Part. 2)

After losing everything, [Name] tries to rebuild her life. But what happens when a ghost with pink hair returns? notes: English is not my first language, and I initially wrote this fanfic in Portuguese. With the help of online resources, I rewrote it in English

Part. 1

“Think I’ll miss you forever, like the stars miss the sun in the morning sky.” - Lana Del Rey

They were all dead…

After we robbed a house in Piltover, the enforcers came after us. Vander said he’d handle it, leaving the bar under Vi’s and my care.

“I can’t stay here. I need to help him!” Vi paced back and forth, gripping her hair tightly.

“No, Vi. It’s too dangerous,” I said, stepping closer. “Vander will handle it. He always does.”

“This time it’s different, [Name],” she snapped, anger in her voice. “I feel like something’s wrong.”

“So you’re going after him? You’re just a kid, Vi!” I raised my voice.

“What do you want me to do?” she shouted back. “Without him, we’re nothing! I can’t just sit here doing nothing.”

“We can’t do anything. We shouldn’t have done anything!” I shouted, my frustration boiling over. “I knew that mission was a bad idea.”

“You think I don’t realize that was a mistake?” she yelled, her eyes burning into mine. “Don’t you think I feel guilty for all this mess?”

“Please, stop fighting!” Powder cried, clutching Mylo and Claggor, who were staring at us with worry and fear.

Vi growled, grabbed a bottle, and hurled it to the ground, the sound echoing loudly. Powder flinched and ran into my arms, sobbing.

“It’s okay! Everything will be fine,” I whispered, holding her tightly.

“That’s not what I meant,” I said more calmly, trying to defuse the situation. “This isn’t your fault. It’s no one’s fault. We need to stick together now… as a family.”

Tears streamed down my face. Vi looked at us, her eyes glistening with tears, and came closer.

“I’m sorry, but I have to do this,” she whispered.

“Vi, please don’t go,” I begged, crying while still holding Powder, who looked at her sister with tears in her eyes. “You don’t have to do this!”

“[Name], I have to help him,” she said, hugging us with tears streaming down her face.

“Then at least let us help.”

“No. You stay here. Please, I can’t lose anyone else,” she said, pulling away and pressing her forehead against mine.

I closed my eyes, feeling her breath against my face.

“Then come back to us, Vi. Promise you’ll come back.”

I opened my eyes, staring into hers.

“I promise,” she replied, and then I felt her lips against mine in a lingering, gentle kiss. It was simple, just two lips touching, but at that moment, I could swear fireworks were exploding inside me. She pulled away, smiling, and kissed Powder’s forehead.

“You four stay together. I’ll bring Vander back home. I swear it,” she promised, leaving, but not before looking back and smiling.

After some time, Mylo and Claggor went after her, insisting that Vander was their father too. I watched them leave, not knowing it would be the last time I’d see them alive.

I was torn, afraid, unsure whether I should go help or stay and care for Powder.

I wasn’t good at fighting and didn’t have any weapons.

So I decided to stay, thinking the three of them would do better on their own.

“[Name], I’m sleepy. Will you wake me up when they come back?” she asked, still in my arms.

“Of course! Don’t worry…”

She pulled away from my arms, walking toward the door at the back of the bar.

“[Name]?”

I turned to see her standing there, holding the door open and looking at me.

“I love you. Thank you for always taking care of me.”

Tears welled up in my eyes at her confession.

“I love you too, Powpow, and I’ll always be here to take care of you,” I said, smiling despite the heaviness in my heart.

“Don’t worry. Everything will be fine!” she said with her childish voice and closed the door.

The bar was empty, but I wouldn’t close it. I wanted to show Vander that I was ready to take care of the bar while he rested.

I cleaned the counter and organized the liquor bottles. Opening the drawer where we kept all the money, I noticed a photo among the bills.

It was the six of us, years ago. It seemed like it was taken shortly after he adopted us.

I smiled, seeing how happy we looked. I hoped with all my heart that this wouldn’t end tonight.

My stomach churned at the thought. I took a deep breath, trying to stay calm for all of them.

After hours, my body seemed to know something had happened. Why were they taking so long to come back? What if the enforcers caught them? Should I go after them? What if something worse had—

“They’re dead,” someone said above me, cutting off my thoughts.

I looked up and saw Sevika.

“What?” A shiver ran down my spine at the possibility of it being true.

“A bomb exploded where they were and killed almost everyone. Except the blue-haired girl.”

“Powder?” I ran through the back door, searching for the girl.

I turned over the blankets, opened the cabinets where she used to hide to play tricks on us. But I couldn’t find her.

“Powder?” I yelled, opening the chest she used as a hiding spot during our games.

I began crying, realizing she wasn’t anywhere. Vi had asked me for one thing, to take care of her sister, and I couldn’t even do that.

“I’m sorry, [Name],” Sevika said behind me.

“Where is Powder?” I asked angrily. I didn’t even know who I was mad at: myself? Powder? No… not Powder. She was just a child. She probably went looking for her sister, worried. I was the irresponsible one. I should have taken care of her, especially during this delicate moment.

I had been so irresponsible.

“Come with me, and I’ll show you.”

I followed Sevika until we reached an old building. We climbed the stairs until we arrived at a room where Powder was sobbing in Silco’s arms.

“Powder…” I whispered, my chest tightening.

“[Name]!” she ran to me, sobbing.

“What happened?” I asked, trying to hold back my own sobs.

“I just wanted to help… I promise! I didn’t know the explosion would hurt them!” Powder cried even harder, and my body froze.

“It’s okay! It’s okay, Powpow! I believe you!” I hugged the girl tightly, trying to stay calm.

After a moment, Silco approached us.

“I have a proposal for you two,” he said.

“We’re not interested,” I cut him off.

“You know you can’t take care of her on your own,” he replied.

The worst part was that he was right. What was I going to do now?

The harsh reality of the situation hit me hard. We had no one else. Everyone was gone. I didn’t know what to do.

Defeated, I asked, “What’s your proposal?”

“I knew you’d make the right choice. Well… my proposal is your loyalty, both of you, and in return, I’ll give you everything you need: food, clothes, protection, a home.”

“Loyalty?” I asked, confused. I didn’t think we’d be useful for anything.

“Yes. Loyalty! You’ll be useful for my business in the future.”

“We won’t be your puppets,” I said, holding Powder tighter.

“Relax, [Name]. You two will be my eyes. You’ll be my representatives. Don’t worry, you won’t do anything you don’t want to…”

I had no choice. Sighing, I replied, “Alright… I accept your proposal.”

“Good. Sevika will show you your room. I want to talk to Powder.”

“What are you going to say to her?” I asked angrily, holding her tighter.

“Nothing bad,” he whispered, approaching us. “She’s traumatized, [Name]. You’re just a child, and now she needs someone to take care of her… to take care of both of you.” When he got closer, his arms surrounded us.

“[Name], it’s okay! I trust him!” Powder looked at me with her red, tear-filled eyes.

“You can talk to her, but I’ll stay outside the room. When you’re done, she’ll go to the room with me.”

“Alright! You take care of yours, [Name]. That’s a good thing!”

I pulled away from the girl, pressing our foreheads together, and whispered:

“If anything happens, call me, alright?”

Sevika led me outside the room, closing the door. I felt tense, wondering what he was saying to Powder.

(POV Silco)

“Come here.” I called her, extending a chair for her to sit on. Slowly, she approached and sat down. “You care about [Name], don’t you?”

“Of course, I do,” she replied without hesitation.

“Then I need to ask you something. Something that will protect [Name].”

“What? I’ll do anything,” she said with determination.

“You can’t tell her that your sister is alive.”

“She’s not my sister anymore,” she replied angrily.

“Of course, she isn’t, but you can’t tell her that Violet is alive. Do you know why?”

“Why?” she asked, her eyes welling up with tears while her face remained angry.

“Because Violet abandoned you. And if [Name] finds out, she’ll be very sad, and we don’t want to see [Name] sad, do we?”

“No, of course not! I want to protect [Name]!” she exclaimed.

“I want to protect her too, which is why this will be our secret.”

7 Years Later

(POV [Name])

The last few years have been hard. Losing everyone changed us. Powder no longer existed. She was Jinx now and insisted on being called that.

But it wasn’t all bad. Silco took good care of us; he gave us everything we needed.

I found Ekko after some time, but he refused to join us. Even so, I took care of him however I could.

I found out that Benzo had also died that day, leaving the little guy completely alone.

Since he wouldn’t join us, I arranged a place for him to stay and always brought him what he needed. Years later, he built his own refuge, which I kept hidden from Silco… and Jinx.

He still didn’t accept me being on Silco’s side, even after I explained my reasons. Even so, sometimes we would talk, forgetting for a moment about our differences.

Jinx didn’t want to see him. She hated talking about the past and would have breakdowns if anyone crossed the line. I still wondered if I had done enough to care for her. If Vi would be disappointed in me…

Over the years, Sevika also helped me improve my physical abilities. I hate to admit it, but she became a maternal figure to me—someone to look up to. Someone I aspired to be like.

Walking through Zaun’s streets, I saw the state of the place I grew up in. I didn’t take pride in what Silco had done, but I reminded myself that I stayed by his side for Jinx. No matter how much she had changed, she was still that little girl who cried in Vander’s arms while he helped me during that massacre caused by Piltover. She was still Powder… deep down.

I was heading toward the old Last Drop when I caught sight of pink hair in the crowd. My heart raced, and the feelings from years ago rushed back. My hands started sweating, and my legs trembled.

The crowd blocked my view of the pink-haired figure. I pushed through the people, searching frantically for that familiar color.

I checked every possible entrance and corner, but I couldn’t find her.

I must have been imagining things. Again.

It wouldn’t be the first time my mind tricked me into seeing Vi walking the streets.

Sighing, I returned to the bar’s entrance, walked in, and sat at a stool by the counter. I ordered a drink. After finishing it, I asked for another and another, until the people around me blurred.

“One more,” I slurred.

“No more, [Name],” I heard a voice beside me.

“Leave me alone,” I whispered, resting my head on the counter.

“What happened to make you like this?” the voice spoke again. I looked up, squinting to recognize the person beside me. After a moment, I realized it was Sevika.

“I miss her, Sevika. I miss her so much,” I said, running my finger along the rim of my glass.

“You need to move on, [Name]. It’s been so long,” she said, running her hand through my hair.

“I know, but everything reminds me of her,” I said, feeling something wet on my face. “Today, I saw a girl with pink hair. I was so sure it was her, but of course, it wasn’t,” I said, realizing the wetness came from my tears.

“So that’s why,” she sighed. “Let’s go home.”

“No.”

“I’m not asking.”

She picked me up, slinging me over her shoulder.

[evabby]

POLAR OPPOSITES.

chapter i > chapter ii || series masterlist.

SUMMARY : you and abby anderson go to the same college, and are in the same english class — you’re polar opposites who clash at every turn. abby is carefree and confident, whereas you’re more focused and disciplined. when you’re forced to partner up on a project, your rivalry deepens, but an unexpected connection does too. as abby pushes you to loosen up, your dynamic shifts from competitive to something far more complicated.

AUTHOR NOTE : this is my first fic ever written!!! please be nice aaa i hope this is okay<3 also lowercase is intentional :)!

CHAPTER I : BREAKING THE ICE

she didn’t know what it was about you.

maybe it was the way you were always well presented, your hair perfectly straightened or tucked into a neat ponytail, not a strand loose.

maybe it was how driven you were, how focused you could be.

or maybe it was even how your answers were always precise, your hand darting up in front of abby whilst in class to quickly answer a question, yet again.

you were smart— abby knew she was smart too, but hell, it was cute how effortless you made it look.

abby, on the other hand, was the complete opposite. sure, she was smart, but she was loud. she would always comment on anything and everything, and would make sure everyone in class knew just exactly what she was thinking.

she brought energy to the classes discussions, even if she was one-upped by your quiet brilliance.

it was the tiny things,

how you would give abby that small, imperceptible smile when you answered a question she simply didn’t know the answer to,

how you’d subtly let out a quiet sigh when abby interrupted the professor, just enough to make abby feel like she’d done something wrong, but never enough to call her out.

it intrigued her.

abby wasn’t even surprised when professor calloway had set up yet another paired project, as always.

he paced around the room, pointing to each student and telling them who their partner was. you weren’t too worried, thinking you’d be paired with another person who would just make you do all of the work, because you’re ‘smart’, until the finger that was pointed at you was paired with the words ‘abby anderson.’

the room fell into an expectant silence. you swallowed back the annoyance in your throat as you scribbled down in your notebook about the project, feeling abby’s gaze burning a hole into the side of your face.

you knew abby would be a nuisance. you’ve never spoken to her before, but all you heard in each class was her voice. complaining, commenting and just talking all the time.

a grin spread abby’s face as she moved to sit next to you, dragging the stool as she sat down, crossing her arms and tilting her head to look at you next to her.

“guess i’ll get to know you a little better, huh?” abby grinned.

your gaze shifted to her, with no clear expression on it, except a flicker of annoyance that was hard to spot.

“let’s just get this over with.” you mumble.

your first study session with abby was at the library. all of your resources, perfectly organised into each folder, were spread out across the library table. of course, abby showed up late. you didn’t pay much attention to this, you were focused on just getting the project done, even if that meant doing it yourself.

abby walked into the quiet place with a coffee cup in her hand, she spotted you in the far corner, already surrounded by books and notes, scribbling down notes hastily as if you needed to be somewhere.

“late as usual, i see” you mumble, your gaze still on your notes instead of abby as she sits down opposite you.

abby grinned, “just giving you a headstart, so i can y’know, have the satisfaction of getting ahead of you.”

“don’t want you to get too used to winning, do we?”

you stay silent, attempting to seem unbothered as you continue to note down key information. your focus was on the textbook as you calmly turned another page.

abby leaned forward, resting her chin in her hand, studying you. her gaze gave you an unsettling feeling low in your stomach.

“so, tell me,” abby said, breaking the silence. “how does it feel to always be the smartest person in the room? must get pretty boring, huh?”

your eyes flickered to meet abby’s, a glimpse of challenge in her gaze.

“i don’t think it’s boring.” you say, “it’s just a matter of doing the work.”

abby smirked, leaning back in her chair.

“oh im sure it is angel, but i can’t help but notice you never seem to have any fun with it. do you even know how to have fun?”

“maybe im just more focused on getting results than playing games.”

abby’s grin widened. she was loving this. “so serious. i bet you’ve never even had a decent prank pulled on you.”

you finally put your pen down, crossing your arms as you stare at abby.

“and i don’t plan on being the subject of one, thanks.”

abby raised an eyebrow. “you sure? you seem like you’d be fun to mess with.”

you narrow your eyes at her. “i doubt that.”

abby hummed, leaning back in her chair to observe all the carefully placed notes dotted over the table as you pick up your pen again, continuing to write down your notes.

this became a routine.

you and abby at the library every day after school, studying together — well, mainly you.

the next few weeks, your study sessions, which had initially been marked by bickering and pointed remarks, began to shift into something different. sometimes it felt like you were even friends.

at first, it was subtle. abby still teased you relentlessly, and you still responded with exasperation, but sometimes you both got along pretty well, despite your clear differences.

small moments that were embedded to your head brought you both closer.

“wait,” abby said, holding up her hand and frowning at her laptop. “are you sure that’s right? i think you missed a step.”

“excuse me?” you glanced up, your pen pausing mid air.

abby turned her laptop towards you, pointing at the screen. “see? if you don’t account for this, the whole thing falls apart.”

you leaned in, your eyes narrowing as you scanned the problem. “huh,” you said after a moment, begrudgingly. “you’re.. right.”

abby smirked , leaning back in her chair. “i know, i’m amazing.”

“you’re impossible is what you are.”

“and yet, here we are,” abby quipped, gesturing to the mess of papers between them.

you shook your head, but didn’t hide the small smile playing at your lips.

another time, you had arrived late to one of your study sessions, your normally immaculate appearance slightly disheveled.

abby raised an eyebrow as you dropped into your chair with a huff.

“rough day?” abby asked, her tone softer than usual.

“you have no idea,” you mutter, your voice quiet as you pull out your laptop. “my professor moved the deadline for our final essay up by a week, and i had to skip lunch to make the adjustments.”

abby frowned, rummaging through her bag before pulling out a granola bar and sliding it across the table.

“what’s this?”

“it’s called a granola bar,” abby said, smirking. “you eat it when you forget to take care of yourself. don’t worry, it won’t bite.”

you rolled your eyes but took the bar, unwrapping it and taking a small bite. “thank you,” you said quietly, your tone soft and genuine.

“don’t mention it,” abby said, her expression softening into a smile.

you found yourself letting your guard down more often around abby. this was something you weren’t used to, you wasn’t sure when it had started, but there were times when abbys teasing didnt geel like an attack — times were it felt almost comforting.

and abby, who had approached their dynamic as a fun game, found herself genuinely looking forward to your time together. your passion for the project, the way your face lit up when you did something right — it was captivating in a way abby hadn’t expected.

one evening, as you were both packing up after a particularly productive session, abby glanced over at you.

“you know, we make a pretty good team.”

you pause, your bag slung over your shoulder. “don’t let it get to your head.” you say, but there was no bite in your voice.

abby grinned. “too late.”

a few weeks later, abby walked in for another one of your study sessions.

she immediately spotted you, immersed in your notes, your hair tied into a neat ponytail. abby couldn’t help but watch for a moment, you had this way about you: serene, focused.

as abby slid into her chair opposite you, you didn’t pay any attention. not even a hello, not even a quick glance. her classic coffee she usually brought sloshed about in the cup as she placed it on the desk.

“you’re not really a studier, are you?” you say, looking at abby.

sure, abby was smart. really smart. but you’d never caught her actually studying with full focus, her intelligence seemed to be natural.

“i prefer to think of it as ‘studying in style’” abby smirks, picking up the coffee cup and taking a long sip, her eye contact with you never breaking.

you look away, back at your notes. “if you mean fiddling around with distractions, then sure, i guess so.” you mumble.

abby chuckled, placing her cup down back onto the desk a bit too forcefully, on top of one of your flashcards.

“i’ll have you know, im very efficient. you could learn a thing or two from me.”

your eyes narrow slightly at her, as you slowly shove her coffee cup towards abby, moving your flashcard to the correct place.

“really? because you seem to think you can get by on distractions and your ‘charm’.”

abby leaned in slightly, adopting an exaggerated, sultry voice.

“oh, i think you’re underestimating me, angel. you wouldn’t want to be too dismissive. who knows? maybe im smarter than you think.”

you stiffen, your eyes flashing with with annoyance. but you didn’t snap back, no. instead, you picked up a notebook, opening it to a page full of neat handwriting.

instead of providing abby an answer she wanted, you carried on writing in your notebook.

“you know,” abby said, casually. “it’s cute.”

you furrow your brows at her, your pen stilled as you look at her in confusion.

“how serious you are about college. all those books.. those notes,” she gestured vaguely at the pile of textbooks and papers in front of you.

“do you even take a break, or are you too busy being the perfect student?”

you look back down at your work, staring at it. you knew abby was only teasing you, but still. abby could see the slight flush on your neck. “i don’t need breaks to get things done.” you replied, your voice tight.

abby leaned back, taking another sip of her coffee before she placed it back on top of your flashcards. you look at her for a moment, knowing what she was trying to do. abby knew she was getting under your skin.

abby pretended to study all of the papers across the table.

“‘m sure it must be nice to be perfect all the time, hm?”

this time, you looked up. your expression was slightly tighter, the kind of expression abby would see from your classroom debates — when you were trying to hide your frustration.

“not perfect,” you mumble, looking back down at your work. “just.. focused. i don’t let distractions get in my way.”

abby raised her eyebrow again, her grin widening.

“distractions, huh?” she took a deliberate pause, leaning in just a little closer. “does that mean i’m a distraction to you?”

your gaze flickered. just for a second, abby saw it — the briefest hint of something in your eyes, something she couldn’t quite place. it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replace by your usual mask.

“i think,” you said, quietly and still looking at your work, gripping onto your pen tightly. “you’re distracting yourself.”

abby leaned back, almost laughing.

“fair enough,” abby said, “already on chapter forty?” abby waved a hand over your notes. “you sure you’re not just trying to impress me with all you’re knowledge? because trust me, it’s working.”

your jaw tightened,

“i don’t need to impress anyone, anderson. i just need to get this project done.”

abby could hear the frustration in your voice, no matter how much you tried your best to hide it. and for some reason, that only made abby more determined to keep pushing. she loved to get a ride out of you, loved the way your jaw would set a little too tightly, your fingers gripping your pen a little too hard.

“you know,” abby said, fiddling with her coffee cup. “i’ve heard it’s hard to concentrate when you’re annoyed. kind of makes you second guess your whole strategy, doesn’t it?”

your eyes flicked to abby,

“im not annoyed.”

“of course you’re not, you’re just perfectly calm and collected whilst you’re seething on the inside.”

you didn’t respond, deciding to close your textbook and go on your laptop. the library was quiet, the soft tapping of your fingers heard on your keyboard. eventually, you were fully focused, your eyebrows furrowed as you typed at lightning speed.

abby’s gaze was fixed on you from opposite the table.

you felt her gaze, and looked up at her.

“what?” you whispered

“i like watching you work.” abby said lazily.

you look back at your laptop, giving her a weird expression. “good. maybe you’ll learn something.”

“ouch,” abby chuckled, unfazed. “i mean it. you’re like a machine. do you ever stop? breathe? blink?”

you sigh sharply, your fingers pausing mid-keystroke.

“what do you want, abby?”

abby leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table and tilting her head to the side.

“i just want to know why you’re so terrified of having fun,”

your eyes finally met abby’s, narrowed with irritation.

“i’m not terrified of fun. im just not wasting my time on pointless things when theres actual work to be done.”

abbys lips curved into a sly grin.

“see, thats where we disagree, i think fun is essential. like, its scientifically proven to make you more productive.”

you raise your brow, almost mocking her.

“uh huh.. and which documentary did you pull that from?”

abby shrugged, smiling. “abby andersons tips, tricks and facts. you should try watching it, first tip? there’s a party tonight, and you’re coming with me.”

you stared at abby like she just killed your family. “absolutely not.”

“why not?” abby pressed, leaning closer. “don’t tell me you’ve never been to a party, you’re a college student, not a nun.”

you scoff, returning your attention to your laptop to avoid eye contact with abby.

“i’ve been to parties. they’re loud, crowded, and a complete waste of time.”

“wow, angel.” abby said, feigning shock. “that’s the most boring sentence ive ever heard. what are you, eighty?”

your jaw clenched, your fingers resuming their rapid typing. “some of us actually care about this project, abby. you might wanna try it sometime.”

abby laughed softly, unfazed by your words. “oh, i care. but im also smart enough tto know we’re not going to burn out if we take a couple hours to, y’know, live a little.”

you didnt reply, your focus glued stubbornly to your screen. abby decided to up the ante.

“come on,” she said, “it’s not just any party. it’s the end of semester blowout. music, drinks.. and me, obviously.”

your typing faltered for a half a second before you quickly recovered.

“that’s not exactly selling a point.”

abbys hand meets her chest dramatically, pretending to be hurt.

“you wound me, angel. i thought you liked my company.”

you sighed, finally looking up to glare at abby.

“what part of ‘i’m not going to a party’ do you not understand?”

“the part where you think you have a choice,” abby said, her grin widening once again. “because im not giving up until you say yes.”

you roll your eyes.

“you’re impossible.”

“and you’re stubborn.” abby shot back. leaning in just enough to make you shift uncomfortably in your chair. “but i think you like the challenge.”

your lips parted, your retort on the tip of your tongue, but abby cut you off.

“look, i get it. you’re all about work, work, work. but you’re going to crash and burn if you don’t take a breather once in a while. this isn’t just me being annoying — this is me looking out for you.”

you blinked, momentarily thrown off by the sincerity in abbys tone.

“im not saying you have to get wasted or dance on tables, okay?” abby continued, “just show up, hang out for an hour and see what happens. if you hate it, ill personally escort you home. deal?”

you frown, your gaze flickering back to your laptop as you weigh your options.

“i don’t even have anything to wear.” you finally said, your voice quieter.

abbys grin returned, victory written all over her face.

”that’s an easy fix. wear anything that doesn’t scream, ‘i’ve been studying for 12 hours straight,’ i’m sure youll look amazing.”

you roll your eyes, but abby didn’t miss the faint pink tinge creeping up your neck.

“this is a terrible idea.” you mutter,

abby hums, standing up and grabbing her bag.

“eight o’clock. don’t be late. i’ll text you the address.”

“i haven’t even agreed yet!” you call after her, but abby was already walking away.

“see you tonight!”

you groan, burying your face in your hands. what have you gotten yourself into?

chapter i > chapter ii || series masterlist.

[winchestersisterimaginessss]

Request: John is being an abusive jerk as always, but can you set this in season 1 idk make up your own scenario but I imagine them being season 1.

Sam and Dean Winchester x Sister!Reader

Warnings: Abuse? Asthma Attack kinda?

A/N: Okay I think I actually hate what I did for this UGH. Please lmk if you guys like it. I also have asthma so I added that little part in there it just came to me when I was writing so I was like okay let’s make it even more angsty.

A hunt had gone wrong and your dad was currently driving you and your siblings to where you had left Dean’s car before the hunt. The tension in the car was thick and it felt as though you couldn’t breathe. You had your long sleeves pulled out and had your hands tucked inside of them as you bundled the ends of them. You had them tucked under your chin as you rested your head on them— something you’ve always done to comfort yourself. Your leg was bouncing rapidly— something you’ve always done when you’re anxious and you’re trying to self soothe.

“Would you fucking knock it off? You’re shaking the whole damn car.” John grumbled angrily. You immediately jumped at his harsh voice piercing through the quiet car and quickly stopped bouncing your leg.

“Yes sir, I’m sorry.” You said quietly. Dean sent you a sympathetic glance through the rear view mirror knowing that’s how you comforted yourself. His first instinct was to protect you and stick up for you, but your pleading eyes shut him up. You bawled up the ends of your sleeves even tighter and subconsciously started wiggling your toes. Your anxiety was on high alert around your father and you hated that the most. You felt safe with your brothers, but when your dad was around you felt as though you could suffocate. Your thoughts of worry were interrupted when you felt a hand on your knee. You looked up and Sam sent you a sad smile. You knew that your dad was going to blow up any second about the hunt gone wrong and the future of that was terrifying you. You couldn’t handle more yelling and the dreadful feeling of your family falling apart in the aftermath. When you turned down the random dirt road you almost sighed out loud in relief. Dean’s car in your view made you feel calm. As soon as your dad stopped the car, you practically leaped out. It was like the weight lifted off of your chest and you could finally take a deep breath. Sam followed behind you and put his arm around your shoulder and you instantly felt better. Your brothers knew you better than you knew yourself.

“We’ll meet you at the motel.” You heard Dean say before you heard the car door shut. You got into the impala and as soon as all the doors shut, you spoke up.

“Dad’s mad.” You stated, quietly. Dean snorted and you snapped your head in his direction.

“What’s new.” He shrugged before turning to face you.

“Don’t let him get to you kiddo.” He said softly. He was concerned for you. He knew that their dad spiked your anxiety and he wanted to make sure you were okay. Your dad was always especially hard on you. Since Dean always had your back, it often led to even more problems and you didn’t want him to have to deal with that.

“Well- I just-“ You started, unsure of how you wanted to word it.

“I just hope he’s not going to blow up. I- I don’t know if I can handle that right now.” You finished weakly, knowing anything could set your father off.

“Everything’s going to be okay, bug. I will take you somewhere else no problem if you don’t feel comfortable going back to the motel. Just say the words.” Sam stated strongly, wanting nothing more than to protect you from your father’s wrath.

“Yeah kid. You can go with Sammy and I’ll go back to the motel and deal with dad.” Dean said, glancing back at you through the mirror.

“No, no it’s okay I didn’t mean to cause a problem. I’ll be fine, I promise.” You said, not sure if you’d be able to keep that promise, but you’d never let Dean deal with dad alone.

“We’ve got your back kid, always.” Dean reassured and just then you noticed you were bouncing your leg up and down. Your breath hitched and you immediately stopped.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t realize I was bouncing my leg. I’m sorry!” You said, panicking. The last thing you wanted to do was annoy your brothers. Before you had another second to even think, Sam spoke.

“Sweetheart, don’t apologize for that. Sometimes we just need to move a little when we’re anxious and it’s totally normal. It doesn’t bother us in the slightest okay?” Sam asked. His heart hurt at the thought that you were now hyper aware of your anxiety tic because your dad had yelled at you and called you annoying for it. It’s something you’ve always done and your brothers are fully aware of it. When they see your leg bouncing, they know there’s something bothering you and it helps them know where you’re at mentally.

“Oh okay. I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t annoying you too.” You said quietly, now feeling embarrassed.

“We’re here for you bug alright? You know you can always be comfortable around us.” Sam said softly.

“Yeah I know.” You sighed. Your brothers hated how you became panicky and scared whenever your father was around. When it was just the three of you without your dad, you were a completely different kid. As the motel came into view you let out a loud gasp.

“What’s wrong?!” Dean asked panicked at your fearful outburst.

“I couldn’t find my inhaler before we left and dad was mad that I was taking so long so he left the room to go help load up the car with you two so I was rushing around and I ripped all my clothes out of my bag and I left the room a little bit of a mess and it’s going to set him off. He’s going to get so mad and he’s going to yell at me.” You explained as fast as you could, hoping you’d have enough time before your dad got back to clean up.

“Okay we’re a few minutes ahead of him so it’s okay. Just go inside and shove everything into your bag real quick. It’s alright.” Dean reassured you as he whipped into the parking lot. You didn’t even wait for him to fully put the car in park before you were running to the room. A few drawers were open and your bag was torn apart all over the floor. You were just starting to shove things into your bag when the door burst open. You looked up in panic and saw your dad. You turned back towards your clothes and tried to throw more into your bag before you set your dad off.

“What the hell is this fucking disaster?” Your dad barked, charging at your bag that was in the center of the room and kicking it at you. Before you had time to answer, Sam and Dean walked into the room. They immediately noticed your terrified expression, but you knew if you acknowledged them before your dad then you would get into even more trouble.

“I-I-I couldn’t f-find m-my inhaler. I-I’m sorry.” You said, scared. Dean started making his way toward the both of you, seeing the anger in his dad’s eyes and the terror in yours.

“I-I-I don’t give a shit! Clean this mess up!” He yelled, making fun of your nervous stutter. The only reason for even having one was because of him. You only ever had one around him. You were cowered on the floor with your dad getting closer to you. Dean immediately placed himself in front of you and put his hand on his Dad’s chest.

“Back up.” He said, firmly.

“No Dean, this is bullshit!” Your dad yelled back at him. Dean looked towards you and your eyes immediately shot to the ground.

“You need to frigging chill the hell out right now.” Dean warned. Your heart was pounding and you knew that it was only going to get worse. You scrambled to put your clothes back in your bag as tears stung your eyes, but you couldn’t let them fall. Crying would be a sign of weakness in your father’s eyes and another reason for him to berate you. You heard a pair of footsteps walking towards you and you looked up to see Sam. As he squatted down to help you pick up your clothes, you saw Dean walking your dad out of the room.

“Oh so you wanna play the role of daddy now?” Your dad asked, stopping in his tracks.

“Stop. Don’t you dare go there.” Dean warned once again.

“That hunt was a fucking disaster, this room is a fucking disaster, she’s a fucking disaster so have fun taking care of that.” He yelled before he stormed out of the motel room. You flinched as he slammed the heavy door shut, but you continued to force your eyes on the floor. You were fighting back a river of tears and were biting the inside of your lip so hard that you started to taste the metallic blood pool in your mouth.

“Y/N/N.” You heard Dean say.

“Hmmm?” You asked, still not looking up from the floor as you continued to shove your clothes in your bag.

“He didn’t mean that.” He said softly, knowing that you would never believe that he didn’t mean it and that the damage was already done.

“Oh I know, I’m okay.” You said unconvincingly and looked up at them for the first time to send them a quick smile that immediately faltered.

“Bug,” Sam trailed off before you burst into tears. Sam who was still on his knees from helping you put your clothes away, immediately scooted over to you and embraced you. You gripped onto his shirt and buried your head into his chest as sobs wracked through your body.

“Shhhh, shhh, I know, I know, I’m sorry sweetheart.” Sam said, knowing all too well.

You sobbed harder, gripping his shirt tighter, afraid that he’d somehow disappear from under you.

“I’m here, I’m here bug, I’m not going anywhere.” He said, feeling you grip his shirt tighter. Sam looked at Dean whose jaw was clenched at the scene before him.

“I-I’m trying my best!” You sobbed, your father’s words of him mocking you and calling you a disaster ringing in your ears. Dean couldn’t handle seeing you in this kind of distress any longer.

“Kiddo.” He said as he put a comforting hand on your back. You tearfully turned away from Sam’s chest and looked towards him.

“Don’t you ever let him make you feel less than you are, especially not when it comes from his own frustration and you certainly don’t deserve to carry that weight.” He said, his eyes piercing through you to make sure you understand.

“B-but De!” You sobbed. “Y-you don’t deserve it either! None of y-you do! I’m sorry, I-I’m just so s-sorry that I’m a-always causing problems with d-dad and y-you’re f-forced to fix it.” You cried, trying to catch your breath.

“Those problems aren’t because of you and they will never be because of you, kid.” Dean reassured, bringing your shaking body into his. You cried harder into his chest.

“I know, I know.” Dean said softly, knowing you needed to get these emotions out. With every cry, it got harder to catch your breath and Dean immediately caught on.

“Hey, hey, hey, breathe for me kiddo.” He said, rubbing your back, but you continued to gasp for air.

“Sam, grab her inhaler. She’s going to give herself an asthma attack.” Dean said calmly, supporting your weak body. Sam rushed to get your inhaler and puffed the medicine into your mouth. As your lungs opened up, you visibly relaxed into deans arms.

“Atta girl.” Dean said, sighing in relief. Your face was stained with tears and your eyes were bloodshot.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered, resting your head on his chest.

“Don’t be sorry. I’m always here for you, and I’ll always have your back, no matter what. You’ve got so much to offer kid. Sammy and I believe in you more than you can imagine. You’re not alone in this.” He said. You lifted your head up to look him in the eyes.

“Thank you.” You said before looking towards Sam.

“You two mean so much to me and I don’t know what I would do without the two of you. Thank you for always having my back. I love you both so much, more than you’ll ever know.” You finished.

“We love you too bug.” Sam said, coming over to you and kissing the side of your head.

“Grab your stuff, I’m getting us a different room from dad.” Dean said, walking towards the door.

“Okay.” You said, not arguing with that.

“We should probably get some candy too for our big movie night we’re going to have.” He said. You snapped your head in his direction with a big teary smile. He shot you a wink and walked out of the room. You smiled to yourself. No matter what your brothers would always be there for you and pull you out of the dark.

[theclownghoul]

I still really love Act l of Arcane Season 2 and I was so hopeful with how everything was set up and I still think everything is the first Act was good, approaching Season 1 level.

However now that we have the whole season I’ve seen a lot more people start to interrogate the writing, specifically of Cait and Vi.

I was first to defend the way things were done in act l but now that we have the rest of the story it puts many of the choices in a different light and it’s definitely worth criticism.

It remains me a lot of how I feel about Wasteland, the scene of Ekko talking Jinx down. The scene itself is great, stunning and really shows the care both of them have for each other despite all they’ve been through. Ekko not giving up on her because he sees her value where she sees a curse. It’s interesting to see that at her lowest she doesn’t bother to hide that she cares deeply about him. It’s good (though objectively should have been longer) and in isolation I appreciate it.

Retroactively it leaves a sour taste in my mouth. After the ending and Jinx “sacrifice” (that’s set to the same song by the way, I think, please let that be wrong) I feel like the writers really didn’t care about Jinx coming back from rock bottom with her supports (not seeing anything in between doesn’t help this). She dies and it’s framed the same way as all of her previous attempts and now it’s framed as good. It poisons the scene with Ekko the same as Vi’s later writing poisons her decisions in Act l. Because we now know they don’t care and were not going to be responsible with what they were depicting.

That scene also seems to be unnaturally beautiful, combined with the glorification of Jinx’s sacrifice it’s sickening. They wanted a spectacle and that was what they chose to debut the Z -Drive….

Even the good parts have to be called into question after the later decisions.

[maxdibert]

I know this might be more aggressive than I usually do, but I'm honestly tired. I can't help but believe that the marauders fandom lives in a completely different reality than mine.

They love to force how good James Potter was, but this same James exposed Severus' intimacy. “He had no intention”, if a person takes the life of another without intention, does that change that a person died? It doesn't change. But they love to say that because there is no intention, there is no guilt, when that's not how it works. Besides all the repetition of how Severus was an incel and James was the one who sincerely loved Lily. The epitome of agape, they say, when in reality, he was just a spoiled little rich boy who can't hear "no" from a girl and get on with his life and instead he... *checks notes* threatened and blackmailed their supposed “love” in addition to chasing his best friend with his gang of idiots and, at the same time, leading the other to hell, even though said boy heard the girl’s “no” and disappeared from her life as she asked.

They act as if Severus being a spy was no big deal and it was his obligation to do something to defeat Voldemort, when it wasn't, he had already done enough by going out of their way to give a warning about the Potters' safety. Aside from the stilted speech that "he did it for the girl", when, amazingly, said girl, at this point, is already dead, he would have gained nothing by doing what he did for the wizarding world. It seems like a competition about who objectifies Lily the most in Severus' life, when Severus: never said anything negative about her, never assumed anything about her sex life or even said that she deserved to die for not choosing him, on the contrary , he blamed himself and wished for his own death. "But, look, he bullied the son of the woman he said he loved, that's definitely obsession," his character flaws in relation to Harry were never about Lily but about old memories of his bully. His problem was always unique and exclusive to James Potter. Every time he insults Harry it's always "you're like your father", but never once did he say anything even remotely negative about Lily or blame her for cutting off her friendship with him. But still, the fandom loves to spew nonsense about how he "wanted to get into the girl's pants and got angry when he couldn't."

I vented, sorry.

That’s why I genuinely think most Snaters are just kids—they see everything in black and white and don’t understand that life doesn’t work that way. Severus didn’t owe anyone anything. The fact that he felt bad about Lily wasn’t an obligation; he could have not cared and it still would’ve been fine. Lily cut ties with him. Lily married his bully. It would’ve been completely justified for him to see her as a piece of trash after she ended up with James. Honestly, I would’ve seen her as trash. If a former friend of mine pulled something like that—ending up with someone who had physically and psychologically tormented me for years, knowing full well what I went through—they’d be lucky if I didn’t burn their house down for being such a piece of work.

But Severus's relationship with Lily carried an enormous emotional weight because she had been his attachment figure for many years. So it makes sense that he ended up feeling so guilty, especially since he was the one who told Voldemort the prophecy. But again, even the prophecy wasn’t something he shared with malicious intent. Severus was doing his job as an agent in a war (even if he was on the "wrong" side), and it just so happened that his work unintentionally affected someone he cared about. Of course, he felt guilty afterward—it’s completely understandable. Anyone in his position, with his life experiences, would.

If I were in his place, though? I would’ve ignored Lily completely. Let her and her bully of a husband die, honestly, LOL.

One thing I find fascinating about Severus is how much things actually matter to him. He cares about repaying his debt to society. He cares about redeeming himself for what happened to Lily. He cares about doing the right thing to atone for his mistakes. And he doesn’t have to care, because all the people he sacrifices himself for are people who treated him like garbage at some point.

He didn’t have to be loyal to Dumbledore, especially after Dumbledore forced him to stay silent when he was almost killed as a teenager, made him keep that secret, and left him out in the cold. He didn’t have to be loyal to Lily either. No matter how their friendship ended, I think it’s indefensible (and I’m sure others would agree) for her to get involved with a spoiled rich kid whose whole reputation was built on tormenting others. He didn’t have to risk his life for the Order when most of its members openly despised him his entire life.

He didn’t have to do any of it. And honestly? It would’ve been justifiable for him not to, given his context and his past. But he did. He did all of it because he wanted to be a better person.

Sure, his personality doesn’t always reflect that, but let’s be real—that’s the personality of someone who never stops suffering. His reactions aren’t strange—they’re the normal reactions of someone with unresolved trauma who’s reached adulthood without the chance to fully develop emotional or social maturity because of that same trauma.

And of course, he didn’t need to beg for James’s life. If I were Severus, I wouldn’t have asked Voldemort to spare James. I’d have asked him to inflict the worst possible torture on James before finishing him off. But then again, I’m Spanish, and we Mediterraneans have hot tempers and always choose violence, LOL.

But seriously, I’m so fed up with the endless whining about why Severus did this or that. It doesn’t matter why. The fact is, he did it. The important thing is that his actions contributed to a cause, and thanks to him, the world was saved. Everything else is irrelevant because, let’s be honest, many of us would’ve walked away from saving a society that judged, mistreated, and condemned us without a second thought.

[phantomwithbreakfast]

The aesthetic ended up being somewhat different from how it appears in my story.

Hear me out. I was working on this piece, and as I kept coloring and painting, I started feeling a deep emotional pain—it got so intense that I began to cry. Because of the graphic content, I felt the need to cover it up, partly for safety reasons. So, that’s what I did.

———————

‘Scene’ out Scarred For Half A Life, Chapter 04 ~ Patches And The Dread.

If you want, you can read and follow my story.

What I often forget to mention is that the story is quite dark… I started writing it during one of my lower points. So, don’t read it if you’re sensitive!

———————

Genre: Angst / Hurt And Comfort (and a little Horror)

AU — OOC

Trigger Warning: Emotional Distress — Violence — Graphic Content

Rating: M

———————

Summary:

Danny had been captured by the GiW once again, or so he thinks. Leaving him feeling utterly helpless—vulnerable. There was nothing he could do. What will happen to him? And why again? (Summary might change as the story goes on)

———————

Spoiler…

Whatever they did, whatever she did, it changed him. His body felt alien, his left eye a constant reminder now of something broken, something wrong. She had done this. They had done this. All because they thought he, Danny, was possessed by Phantom—by himself. Like a parasite that took over their son's body.


The thought made his chest tighten, anger and despair clawing at him simultaneously. So many questions swirled unanswered in his head, gnawing at his sanity. Why didn’t she stop? What did they do to him? Why didn’t she feel anything? Did she even really love him? Probably, yes. But in a wrong way.


He slumped back onto the rigid bed, his strength gone, his will crushed. Maybe he needed to tell them everything—the whole truth. The accident. How it all started. But even if he did, would they even believe him? Could they even handle the guilt of what they had done? If she even feels guilt.

———————

I told myself, I am not going this art style again. And yet, here we are.

Yes, I wrote already a few chapters ahead. Don’t know when I’m going to share them.

[waitingformysandman]

Remember Me

Part 3

Summary: After years of being separated from your love, James (Bucky) Buchanan Barnes, you finally find him again. But he’s different. Too different. Not only does he forget himself but you and Steve as well. Can he get his memories back?

‼️Trigger Warnings will be noted if needed at the beginning of chapter.‼️

Triggers: reader not taking care of themselves, starving, self deprication, Steve Rodgers being an ass

Use of Y/N in this chapter. Sorry not sorry.

A/N: for anyone actually keeping up with this I’m so sorry this chapter took so long😂

“Of course you can stay with me Sargent. I’ve been waiting for you.”

He smiled that beautiful smile. The one you thought you’d never see again but were blessed to see so many times in the past hour.

“Don’t smile at me like that.” You blushed.

“Like what?” He asked. Genuinely confused as it was how he smiled at everything that made him genuinely happy.

“Like that. That smile you always do that gets us into trouble. The one you know would get us into trouble here. You know the one.”

There wasn’t a specific smile. It was just him. He was so unabashedly happy to be back in your presence no matter how little he remembered it hadn’t even occurred to him that he probably looked a little deranged.

He couldn’t remember the last time he smiled. Literally.

He frowned.

You furrowed your brow from the sudden change of Bucky’s emotions.

“What’s wrong?” You asked.

He whispered so quietly you almost didn’t catch it. It didn’t help that he was looking at the ground.

“I don’t remember the last time I smiled.”

He looked up at you again, eyes watering.

You tentatively reached around his waist with one arm before reaching around with the other. Just in case.

He stood rigidly. His arms to his sides and breathing heavily. You pressed your whole body to him hoping your closeness would ease his tension like it used to. But it didn’t. Instead, it made everything worse.

With his one arm he wrenched you away from himself and his once gorgeous blue eyes were now steel. He wasn’t there anymore. He almost looked like him. The one that haunted your dreams now. The Winter Soldier. But he wasn’t. The Soldier wasn’t quite there. But he was there enough.

“Leave.”

Your head snapped up. Unsure you heard him correctly you asked him to repeat himself.

“I said leave. Stop waiting for someone who isn’t coming back.”

You gaped at him. Everything was ok. He was fine a minute ago. You were fixing your relationship, getting to know each other again. It was wonderful. But now.

You weren’t sure if you were going to be able to have a relationship if it was going to be like this every time you got close to him. It wouldn’t work. In no reality would that work.

“B-Bucky?” you stuttered

“I SAID GET OUT!”

He shoved you away and took hold of your wrist leading you out of the hut and quite literally threw you out.

You landed on your hands and knees with tears in your eyes.

Steve didn’t see much but he saw you get thrown out. He ran as fast as he could to get to you.

“Hey. What happened? You alright?”

You slowly got to your knees and looked at your hands. You started picking out the gravel that had embedded itself in your palms.

You slowly and calmly looked Steve directly in the eyes.

“He’s gone Steve. There isn’t anything we can do.”

Steve flinched.

“What are you talking about ‘He’s gone’? What’s going on? Y/N what happened in there!”

You got up off your knees and found Shuri near the edge of the lake.

“Thank you for all your help Shuri. I know you’ve done everything you can. But I think it’s too late. He’s gone.”

And that’s when you broke down. You couldn’t fight the tears.

You found Steve beside you and buried yourself in his chest. If Bucky wouldn’t hold you at least you knew your friend would.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

2 Weeks Later

Steve was never good at speaking to women. Saying hello in and of itself was a general hardship for him.

Except for you. Since Bucky had found you all those years ago you and Steve had become good friends. Steve was grateful for that.

Steve couldn’t talk to women. But he could talk to you. You weren’t just a woman. You were his best friend and his other best friend’s…girlfriend? Fiancé?

Whatever you were to Bucky he wasn’t quite sure. But you were important enough that he had bought you a ring and you had worn it. Even after thinking he had been dead for 70 years.

He wasn’t sure if Bucky was still there anymore. If anything that had happened in Wakanda was anything to go by. Steve would bring him back though. For you.

As he wandered the halls of the Avenger’s compound alone with his thoughts Steve decided to try to visit you again. Even though you probably wouldn’t see him.

You hadn’t spoken to anyone. He hadn’t seen you leave your room or even order anything to your room. He had asked FRIDAY if you had been at least eating but you had instructed FRIDAY not to tell anyone and that “If it’s Blondie asking, tell him I’ll eat when I feel like it.”

He’d been getting that same message for months. He hoped you were still alive at this point.

Steve stopped at your door and took a breath before knocking.

Knock knock knock.

He waited a minute.

He was greeted with the deafening silence of the empty compound.

But he soon heard a rustling coming from the other side of the door. And then the sound of feet shuffling closer and closer to the door until it slowly creaked the tiniest bit open.

He was shocked. You looked awful.

“Hey Steve.”

That was it. 2 weeks of silence, not knowing if you were taking care of yourself, if you were dead and all he got was ‘Hey Steve’? Nope not ok.

“‘Hey Steve?’ That’s it? Really Y/N? That’s all I get? HEY FUCKING STEVE?!”

You flinched. You knew you deserved it. Hiding in your room for the past 2 weeks. He tried to help you. You just wanted to die.

“Yeah. Just hey Steve.”

You started to shut the door but he smashed his hand between the door and the jamb before you could close it all the way and he forced the door completely open.

You couldn’t wither away and lose a grotesque amount of weight like an average person as a super soldier. But you still managed to somehow look like it.

You motioned to the box by the couch in the living room.

“They sent me his things the day after we got back. Well, his backpack and the clothes on his back.”

Steve looked at you warily. It explained the slight look of insanity. You missed him. Too much.

You wished it was him in your room. Not a box of clothes and backpack of memories.

He needed the backpack. Wherever he was.

“You should go Steve.”

“What do you mean I should go? You need help! A therapist. Something!”

“You shouldn’t be here,” you whispered “it’s not proper.”

“THIS ISN’T THE 1940’s Y/N! BUCKY DOESN’T HAVE TO BE HERE FOR IT TO BE ‘PROPER’. AND GUESS WHAT? YOU WEREN’T EVEN MARRIED! HE HADN’T EVEN PROPOSED YET SO IT WOULDN’T HAVE BEEN PROPER ANYWAY!”

You knew he was right. You mentally rolled your eyes. He was always right.

“Ya know what? Fine. Sit here and wallow in your pain and his bloodied tattered clothes and books of faded memories. It’s not going to help bring him back!”

And with those last stinging words Steve left. Making sure to slam the door behind him like the dramatic ass he is.

[thequeenofcupps]

°˖ ☢︎ HAZARD X GN!READER ☢︎ ˖°

A/N: I LOVEDDDD this request and I just had to do it, this is indeed a gn!reader but it can be whatever you want! Also @urlocaldesertdweller requested this!

Summary: hazards voice, and him just being a softy and Him using Scottish slang

What’s in this!: some suggestive part in this, I think like thing, mostly fluff, and I think this might be ooc but himbo!hazard, I make ONE bad joke, you and him are bffs with Suzie in this

☢︎ This man loves you so goddamn much, he likes making you feel good about yourself but unfortunately he does like putting you first instead himself meaning he does get hurt more often so please try and make him

☢︎ He has like so many nicknames for you and it’s insane

Likes for example: hen, Bonnie, lass, pretty thing, sweetheart, darling, babes, baby, and Bràmair (it’s a Scottish Gaelic word that can mean "lover", "sweetheart", "boyfriend", or "girlfriend")

☢︎ He’s such a gentleman for you, he’s always holding doors open for you, letting go first at anything and he just likes making feel like royalty, hell he throw his jacket over a puddle for you

☢︎ He knows you love his voice, you fold everytime you hear him talk to you and he knows it’s your weak spot

Like he’ll come up from behind you if you’re doing something like cooking or anything and talk to you with his head on your shoulder

And sometimes when he’s feeling phreaky (hehe) he’ll whisper something inappropriate in your ear and walk off like he didn’t do anything thing

☢︎ (I don’t know his canon height yet so please bare with me)

This man is TALLLL and he really really likes the height difference between the 2 of you, but he will fuck with you like he’ll put stuff in places you can’t reach or he’ll grab something you asked him to get a tall place AND HE’LL HOLD HIS ARM ABOVE HIS HEAD AND HE’LL SAY SOME ASS THING LIKE “aww What’s wrong pretty thing? Can’t reach?” He’ll give it to you don’t worry

☢︎ His heart melts when he sees you getting along with his friends and his dog

Actually when he first met you and he was surprisingly shy too talk to you that Suzie had to practice with him to get enough courage to talk to you

☢︎ Speaking of Suzie

You and her are the biggest bffs and hazard likes that you get along great with her and it’s warms his heart to see you both get along like he does

☢︎ The rest of the phreaks are really shocked at how hard he folds for you considering he’s runs a tight knit gang and that he’s slightly violent

And he’s surprised that you love his voice so much

☢︎ Fighting with each other usually ends with him apologizing first and after all that’s done he likes to pamper you with kisses and cuddles

☢︎ he very protective of you, I mean don’t get me wrong he knows you are fully capable of handling yourself but considering what he does for a living he gets scared something will happen to you when he’s gone off to a mission or something

☢︎ he can get jealous at times but not in like a “I saw you say hi to them now ur not allow to talk to anybody else except me” way but more so in a way that he’ll get jelly, thinks he’s being ridiculous, then it’s over

☢︎ he’s a girl dad

Sorry just felt like throwing that out there

☢︎ Overall you and him are a perfect pair and you both have each other’s backs no matter what and he loves you a shit ton and nothing can break the love that you guys have

A/n:

DAWG I LOVE THAT MAN SO MUCH LIKE AHRJEBSHDUEJA

anyways I hope you liked this sorry if I didn’t stay on request

But thank you for requesting!

[scrollonso]

White Lie — Pedroscar

"Hey, Osc," Pedro began, his tone unusually somber as he perched on the edge of the couch. His fingers fidgeted with the hem of his shirt, betraying the nerves he was trying to hide. Aleix had sent him a video earlier — a video of a British guy pranking his girlfriend by telling her he wanted to break up — Aleix said he'd done it on Daniil so now Pedro should do it on Oscar.

Oscar glanced up from his book — his Spanish language book — his brow furrowing at the uncharacteristic seriousness in Pedro’s voice. "What’s wrong, love?" he asked, his tone calm but tinged with concern. He set the book aside carefully, giving Pedro his full attention.

Pedro hesitated, his heart pounding in his chest as he tried to summon the courage to go through with it — he had no problem riding a death machine as a career but thid horrified him. His hands trembled slightly, and he dragged a hand through his hair, exhaling slowly to steady himself. "I... I think we need to talk," he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.

Oscar’s frown deepened, his head tilting slightly as he studied Pedro’s face. "Okay," he said cautiously. "What is it?"

Pedro’s gaze darted away, unable to hold Oscar’s steady eyes any longer. He looked down at his hands, twisting them nervously in his lap. "I’ve been thinking a lot lately," he began, his voice faltering. "And... I uhm, I don't think this is working out anymore."

The words hung heavily in the air, the weight of them immediately shifting the atmosphere in the room. Oscar froze, his usually bright expression clouding over. He didn’t say anything at first, but Pedro noticed the way his shoulders tensed, the way his fingers curled into the fabric of his sweatpants.

"What do you mean?" Oscar asked finally, his voice carefully even but quieter than usual.

Pedro swallowed hard, the lump in his throat making it harder to speak. He pushed through, though every word felt like a knife twisting deeper into his own chest. "I mean us," he said, his voice softer now, almost apologetic. "I feel like... we’ve been drifting apart. And I don’t think I can do this anymore."

Oscar’s lips parted as if to speak, but no words came out. His expression shifted ever so slightly, the faintest flicker of hurt crossing his features before he quickly masked it. "Drifting apart?" he echoed, his tone neutral but tinged with disbelief. "Since when? I didn’t realize you felt that way."

Pedro’s stomach twisted, guilt clawing at him as he watched Oscar struggle to process his words. "It’s not you," Pedro said quickly, forcing himself to meet Oscar’s gaze even as his resolve began to crumble. "You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s just... I don’t know. I feel like something’s changed, and I don’t want to keep pretending everything’s fine when it’s not."

Oscar nodded slowly, his jaw tightening as he looked down at his hands. He was quiet for a long moment, his chest rising and falling steadily as he tried to collect his thoughts. "I see," he said finally, his voice soft but steady.

Pedro’s heart ached at the sight of him — Oscar, always so composed, trying to hold himself together even now. The temptation to abandon the whole act was overwhelming, but he didn’t. Not yet. "I just think this is the best thing for both of us," Pedro added, the words barely audible as they left his mouth.

Oscar’s hands curled into fists in his lap, and he nodded again, though this time the movement was stiffer. "If that’s how you feel," he said, his voice faltering slightly.

Pedro hesitated, watching Oscar carefully. He could see the cracks starting to form in his facade — the slight tremble in his hands, the way his lower lip quivered ever so slightly. Still, Oscar held it together, though Pedro could tell it was taking everything he had.

"Are you sure about this?" Oscar asked quietly, his voice laced with vulnerability despite his best efforts to stay calm.

Pedro’s heart sank further, and for a moment, he couldn’t bring himself to respond. This had gone too far. He opened his mouth to speak, to tell Oscar the truth, but before he could, Oscar’s composure finally broke.

He let out a choked sob, his chest heaving as he buried his face in his hands. The sound was raw, broken, and filled with anguish, and it pierced straight through Pedro’s heart — what had he just done? Tears began to spill freely down Oscar’s cheeks, slipping through the cracks between his fingers as his entire body trembled violently. His breathing grew erratic, shallow gasps cutting through his cries as the weight of Pedro’s words hit him like a sledgehammer.

"Why?" Oscar finally managed to sob, his voice cracking with the force of his emotions. His hands fell from his face, revealing red-rimmed eyes brimming with tears and a look of sheer devastation. "Why would you do this?" His words dissolved into incoherent sobs, his chest shaking as he fought to breathe through the torrent of emotions overtaking him.

Pedro sat frozen, horrified at the sight in front of him. This wasn’t the reaction he’d expected — not even close. He thought Oscar might get upset, maybe even cry a little, but this? This was heartbreak, pure and agonizing, and Pedro felt the full weight of his mistake crashing down on him.

"Oscar," Pedro breathed, his voice shaky and filled with regret. He reached out hesitantly, unsure if Oscar would even let him near after what he’d said. But when Oscar didn’t pull away, Pedro wrapped his arms tightly around him, pulling his shaking form close.

"Osc," Pedro said again, more urgently this time, his own voice thick with emotion. "It’s not real. It’s not real! It’s a prank, cariño. I swear, it’s not real!"

Oscar didn’t seem to register the words at first, his sobs growing louder as he clung desperately to Pedro’s Red Bull branded shirt. His fingers curled into the fabric, holding on as if letting go would shatter him completely. "I love you," he choked out between cries, his voice barely audible. His words came in fragments, broken by gasps for air. "I don’t want to lose you, Pedro. Please... don’t do this."

Pedro’s stomach twisted, guilt and shame colliding in a sickening wave as he pressed his lips to Oscar’s temple. "You’re not losing me," he murmured, his own voice trembling as tears pricked at the corners of his eyes. "You’re never losing me. I’m so sorry, Oscar. It was a stupid, horrible prank, and I swear I’ll never do anything like this again."

Oscar pulled back slightly, his face streaked with tears and his lips trembling as he tried to form words. But another sob wracked his body before he could speak, and Pedro cradled his face in his hands, wiping at the tears with his thumbs.

"It’s okay," Pedro whispered, peppering kisses across Oscar’s forehead, his cheeks, and the tip of his nose. "I’m here. I love you so much, and I’ll spend forever making this up to you. Just... please, don’t cry like this. I can’t stand it."

Oscar sniffled, his breathing still uneven as he looked up at Pedro through tear-blurred eyes. "That was so mean," he said shakily, his voice breaking on the last word.

Pedro nodded, his heart aching at the sound of Oscar’s broken voice. "I know," he admitted softly. "I was a complete idiot. I thought it would be funny, but I didn’t think about how it would hurt you. I’ll do anything to make it up to you. Anything, Osc."

Oscar let out a shaky laugh, though fresh tears still glistened in his eyes. He swiped at his face with trembling hands, a flush creeping up his cheeks as the intensity of his reaction began to sink in. "I can’t believe I cried that hard," he muttered, his voice thick and embarrassed. "You're a fucking cunt, you know that?"

Pedro’s lips curved into a soft, apologetic smile as he pulled Oscar close again. "You cried because you care," he murmured, stroking his hair gently. "And that means everything to me. I’m so sorry, baby. I’ll never take that for granted again."

Oscar relaxed slightly in Pedro’s arms, though the occasional shudder still wracked his body. "You better not," he said quietly, his voice still hoarse but steadier now. "Because next time, I’m making you cry."

Pedro let out a soft laugh, relief flooding through him as Oscar’s words carried a hint of his usual playful spirit. "Fair enough," he replied, pressing another kiss to Oscar’s forehead. "But for now, just let me hold you. Please."

Oscar nodded, closing his eyes as he rested his head against Pedro’s chest. The sound of Pedro’s heartbeat beneath his ear was steady, soothing, and slowly, the storm inside him began to calm. "I love you," he whispered, the words barely audible.

Pedro’s arms tightened around him, his lips brushing against Oscar’s hair — he was definitely going to be yelling at Aleix later. "I love you too," he said, his voice filled with sincerity. "More than anything in the world."

[empire-of-the-words]

Finally read Tower of Babel! Time for rambling thoughts!

Oh, Bruce Bruce Bruce. You are so flawed. I love it.

He's so... stubborn. He's focused to the nth degree, and it blinds him

The JL was so hurt by Bruce’s betrayal, but, like Talia's motif, the blame isn't entirely on him. They all react so human. Clark's hurts the most, because he's the quietest. And I think a big part of it is because he's seeing everyone else's pain. Like (assuming I'm reading it correctly), Clark was going to vote to kick Batman off the team, and I think it's because Bruce’s plans hurt others (and because of Bruce’s Kryptonite, Clark could see it better than he ever could). Not because they hurt him, he could figure that out, but they cost other people's lives

TALIA!!! I just don’t expect good writing for her, so even though I knew this was good writing, I'm just. dying. Her loyalty to her father and her love for Bruce are both of full display, but we also get to see just a bit of her choosing for herself. Also:

This scene. This scene. It's so quietly heartbreaking. The way she whispers "I see. This is a gift?". She doesn't want this. She wants to save the Earth, yes, of course, but not like this. She's never wanted it like this, but Ra's just can't understand

Ra's is also so amazing. He's peak supervillain, but still loves his daughter so much (in all the wrong ways). And he understands Bruce so well! Stealing the Waynes' bodies was elegent (in a macabre way) and perfectly executed. Also, when he puts the Kryptonite by the coffins because he knows Bruce and knows he'll send Superman for the coffins? *chef's kiss* perfect, no notes, worst father/son-in-law relationship ever

Also. The Brutalia? Crying sobbing sedate me, I couldn't have hoped for anything better. Actually, it's better than I hoped for. Talia calling Bruce her "True Love"? And straight up smacking the dude who said Bruce was dead without bringing a body? Bruce looking around for her the moment he heard her voice? And how when he confronts Ra's he confronts him about Talia?? Because last he heard she was shot and he doesn't know if she's safe?? I'm dead 💘

Begrudgingly dragging myself out of shipping, this comic was just. really well done? Particularly the issue where Talia breaks into the Watchtower, where the comics goes between her, flashback to Bruce learning his teammates' weaknesses, and Bruce’s notes on contingencies very well. The concepts were all very smart too. Like, the authors had to come up with

Ra's al Ghul's plan

All of Bruce’s contingencies

How Ra's got the contingencies

How to beat all the contingencies (without Bruce helping much bc there can't be a giant flaw he'd known about)

How to make Talia finally snap and leave Ra's after 30 irl years

And they did all that! They did all that very well!

Also, speaking of #4, this comic was awesome in showing the intelligence of the non-Bayman JL members

Anyway, love this comic, it's awesome, go check it out if you want

[lillotte17]

Okay, I’ve done 2 play throughs and I’m well into my 3rd, so I feel like my review of the game can be (mostly) fair and not as emotionally driven as it was when I finished the first time. (this is very long >_>)

I want to start with the good things!

The game is beautiful. BEAUTIFUL. I was not crazy about the stylistic change of the graphics from DAI at first, but once I started playing, I really loved it. The maps are huge and unique. I find something new every time. I love all the little puzzles and sneaky little side quests you can find. I the little sneaky cameos of items and songs from other games.

I love the mechanics of being able to use companions’ special abilities when they are not in your party. I still wish we got 3 people in our party instead of just 2 for balance reasons, but otherwise I find the fighting really engaging and dynamic.

I love that they brought back specific banter spots, shortened the time between when the next banter triggers AND allowed for recovery of the conversation if it got interrupted by something. Thank you for my LIFE. Waiting for certain banters to trigger in DAI was awful lmao.

I really appreciated the effort they put into the CC, allowing for greater body type differences and the various gender options. Long hair, curly hair, please and thank! The CC took some getting used to, but once I got the hang of it, it’s fun just to build characters, lol.

I really liked the easy upgrades and enchantments for your armors, and I LOVED being able to wear whatever the best armor was, but have a different armor visible. Great call, team! Do that for always and ever. The only qualm I had was that I would have liked to be able to change the colors on some of the outfits, but really, there was such a good variety, this is a very minor complaint.

In terms of storyline, my favorite quest was the Blood of Arlathan, and I also liked the final push at the end through Minrathous. Big surprise that the things I liked best was actually getting to fight with Solas on my team again, lol. But those where also the times where it really felt like everything was on the table, you know? Weisshaupt was a strong contender, too. That quest was so fasted paced, it made it a little hard to appreciate just how much was going on around you. But asking your local assassin to stab a god-cloud is never not funny, so that one gets good points, too.

Overall, the gameplay is really strong. The rollout was really smooth. I didn’t really encounter any bugs, except for one time I managed to change all the subtitles to French? But I think that might have been a user error. If I was just here for a generic fantasy game, this would get 10/10. It’s fun to play and it’s pretty. You can stab stuff, and throw magic around, and there are dragons.

However…

The storyline and the pacing was a mess. Which is honestly baffling from a BioWare game. I am not saying this with spite or hatred, because I know that EA tried to kill this game repeatedly, so it’s kind of amazing that we got anything at all, BUT it’s still frustrating, because…I can SEE IT. I can SEE all the pieces of a REALLY good story. An AMAZING story. The story I WANTED to play!!! And it’s like…it all got put together wrong.

The nearly nonexistent romances are honestly the worst offenders here. Even if they wanted to keep the rating down to make it more accessible to a wider audience, there is no reason why I should only have ONE opportunity to kiss my love interest over the course of an 80+ hour game. SOLAVELLAN had more unique romance scenes and kisses than you get with Lucanis and he DUMPS your character before coming back to steal your hand. Not to mention the fact that it is possible for your LI to die before you ever get to actually say you love them or anything. Davrin was my first romance. At the end of Tearstone Island like…I wasn’t sad. I wasn’t feeling my PCs grief that her boyfriend whom she had kissed exactly one time was dead. I was PISSED. I don’t think I have ever been so mad about a writing choice, and I am a certified Tragedy Enjoyer. It didn’t even feel like a good tragic blow, because they didn’t take the time to build up the romance before killing him. And Rook hardly gets a second to mourn afterwards, so it was just kind of a nothingburger that made me feel like I wasted all the time I had spent playing for it. (I went back and changed it so he lived but jfc)

Speaking of killing characters: Varric. It was a mistake. I know what they were going for. I see what they were trying to do. But it was a mistake. First of all, they relied way too much on the idea that the player has played the other games, in the sense that the story just opens with Rook already with Varric, who they have known for over a year, and then they turn around and nerf him in the first act. There’s no time to establish how Rook feels about Varric, or how they feel about this quest they’ve been on for so long, you just get thrown into it without preamble. And then, Varric is just kind of… there. He’s Rook’s cheerleader, but he almost never has any real advice, and you almost never get to have a discussion with him. Which means, when you find out what happened to him later, the emotional blow is relying almost entirely on your attachment to Varric from previous games instead of the game you are currently playing.

Also, I figured out he was dead pretty early on, so the reveal had almost no impact, and felt a bit ham-fisted, if I’m being honest.

The second reason it was a mistake is that…it just felt like an excuse to make the player hate Solas. Like, it honestly feels like that is the only reason they did it. Which seems so unnecessary? The man is responsible for the fucking blight and the death of the titans and is currently trying to tear the Veil down, and you think that’s not ENOUGH motivation for the PC to want to give him the middle finger???

Which brings us to: Solas. I love this man. I love Solavellan. I love his story. I love THEIR story. But…if I had played this game first, I don’t think I would have cared about redeeming him. All of the companions tell stories about second chances and redemption and being able to change your nature, and I KNOW that was supposed to be in reference to Solas, I know it was but… It just felt like they did almost nothing to SHOW you how much he was trying to do the right thing every time he fucked up. How badly he wanted to be a hero and a protector, and someone giving wisdom instead of orders. When we saw his regrets and talked about them with the team, I really thought it was going to be relevant later. I thought it would come up in conversation with Solas, and depending on how you talked to him about the things you saw, you could slowly guide him towards choosing a better path at the end. I thought it would all be on Rook, and their choice to take a chance to try and redeem him or not. But in the end, it didn’t matter. It only unlocked Mythal. She was the only thing that made a difference. Not Rook. Not your Inquisitor. Not any of the other choices you made in the entire game or the one that preceded it. Don’t get me wrong, I am SO grateful they squeezed a Solavellan ending in there for us, really and truly. But the fact that he was so in love with her during DAI that he was about to give up everything without her even asking, and he’s so torn up about her during Trespasser that he can hardly let her close to him because just being in proximity to her makes him want to stop everything and stay with her, and then when she shows up at the end of Veilguard and asks him to stop…he pauses for even less time to consider the option than when ROOK asks. And then Mythal holds more sway with him by like 1000%. Just. Felt very much like a downgrade. (Also I wanted a hug. He needed a fucking hug and my Lavellan would have hugged the Bad Choices right out of him)

There are other things. Dwarves getting sidelined again. Slavery in Tevinter barely being touched on. The weird idea of the Crows being a good option for orphans with nowhere to go. The SUPER uncomfortable end of Bellara’s quest where a non-elf Rook can have an opinion on what she should do with the history of her people. But those are kind of like…small potatoes. Typical BioWare story flubs tbh.

I know, my complaints are much longer than my praises, but I really do like playing the game. Really and truly. It is a good game, and I am eternally grateful that they got it to us at all. I just…wish we could have gotten the story I think they wanted to tell us, instead of what we ended up with. But as they say: That’s what Fanfic is for. <3