#i want to see more of her in the next season
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thescriptorium · 11 hours ago
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thinking about caitlyn kiramman and how her lack of words are so detrimental to the end shape of her character. cait doesn’t say “i’m sorry” when Vi yells at her about being Ambessa’s puppet, she yells “i know” because she’s intelligent enough to see the spiral of events but not enough to know how to stop it. she doesn’t say “i’m sorry” but the very next scene she attempts to make peace with jinx. she doesn’t say “i’m sorry” but she calls off the guards so Vi can secretly try to save her sister—a terrible plan but one that Vi needs to do.
caitlyn isn’t surprised to find that jinx escaped. she expects Vi to be locked away by her sister so that she won’t chase her. because that’s the doomed tragedy of them.
everyone knows Jinx can’t be saved except for Vi.
Vi wants so badly to believe her love will somehow save her sister but it never will. her fatal flaw is that she will always try and she will always fail. and then caitlyn knows Vi will unjustly blame herself, so she’s there at the cells to ground her and remind her that this is how it’s always been. you’re getting predictable.
and then vi finally understands that caitlyn pulled all the strings for this. that she gave her another chance to open a cell and go after her sister, even knowing it would never work. it’s an apology and it’s cait saying “i know who you are.”
caitlyn kiramman doesn’t use words, she takes meaningful action because she’s only half the charismatic councilor her mother wanted her to be. she’s grown up an outsider and keeps a careful mask for everyone except violet, which is why season one opened her up so magically. she’s naturally stoic and reserved but she’s bold.
and then vi has to kiss her right then in the cells. because meaningful action means so much more than words to someone like her, who just wants to be of service to the people she loves. what caitlyn did was a reciprocation of her love language. and then Vi acts more by instantly showing her love, giving caitlyn all her love, because she’s the only person in this story willing to accept it. without hurt or heartbreak, vi can pour this massive heart she has into the only hands capable of understanding it. of being tender with it.
because caitlyn knows that vi is devoted to such a massive fault, but it doesn’t deserve to be punished. not any longer.
caitlyn kiramman doesn’t use words, but she keeps the burden of jinx locked away in her heart. all so that vi can finally know what a safe home and peace feels like ♥️ AUGH
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inlovewithpandora · 2 days ago
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ᥫ᭡ — Just a Pogue
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Artists — Rafe Cameron x fem!pogue!reader
Lyrics — Hearing Rafe belittle you to his friends and down play the bond you share leads you to your breaking point.
Music Advisory — Oneshot; all angst, hurt w/ no comfort, slight cursing, based heavily on scene(s) from season four
Duration — 1.7k
Words from Artist — This was a quick and fun fic to write for Rafe! It’s been a while since I wrote an angsty fic so I’m glad to have my toes in the water again, especially for Rafe because he pairs so good with angst! If you have any requests you want to see with Rafe please feel free to send them to my ask box! As always feel free to comment and reblog, I love reading y’all reactions! I hope you enjoy!!
Current Platforms — main m.list・obx taglist・navigation
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When Rafe sent you a text to meet him at the Country Club you were excited, hoping that since he’s asking you to come hang out with him and his friends that he’s finally ready to acknowledge what’s happening between you two. Your relationship has been without a label for a while now, sharing moments that are intimate, intense, and real, making you feel like there’s a true connection with Rafe and that he’ll be officially asking you to be his girlfriend soon.
As you walk from the patio to the inside of the club you see Rafe, Topper, and his girlfriend Ruthie. When you’re about to approach, you pause when you hear your name brought up in their conversation, making curiosity strike you and wonder what they're talking about so you move out of their line of sight but stay close enough so you can hear. “I’m surprised y/n’s your girlfriend.” Ruthie twirls the straw in her drink while looking over at Topper with a slight smirk on her face, purposefully testing the waters to see how Rafe will react. “I mean she’s pretty pogue, isn’t she?”
Rafe scoffs and rolls his eyes as if he finds this whole topic exhausting to talk about. “Listen,” he says with a blank face while shrugging his shoulders and lifting his glass closer to his lips, “just because we hook up doesn’t mean she’s my girlfriend, okay?” He mutters out before glancing around and taking a sip of his drink, clearly uncomfortable with the spotlight on his relationship with you— if you would even call it that. Mentioning your social class and insinuating that you’re his girlfriend makes Rafe feel insecure, especially since in the past he’s always expressed his strong dislike for pogues.
“Right… I’m just saying you sure are together a lot. Wait, has she moved in yet?”
“I’m not living with a pogue, I have standards.” Rafe felt the need to defend himself against this line of questioning and make it known that you’re strictly just a hookup for him, that there isn’t any type of love in his heart for you because you’re a pogue and he just can’t be with someone who’s living in the cut.
The sting of Rafe’s words hits you like a punch in the gut, unraveling every bit of hope you’d been holding onto. You feel knots in your stomach, your heart pounding as you back away, each cruel word echoing in your mind. To him, you’re just a fling—a fun thing he can call up whenever he wants, never someone he’d actually take seriously. All those moments, those stolen kisses and soft words you’d shared, they’d only been games to him. You thought that Rafe finally changed, that his views weren’t so surface level when it came to being a kook or a pogue but it’s clear that he only made you believe those things so he could get in your pants.
You turn and walk back toward your car, your mind reeling as you begin to feel stupid for allowing Rafe into your heart, trusting him with your body, only to find out he never truly cared about you as he claimed. You feel like you were lied to, knowing he feed you with words he knows you wanted to hear and would cling to just so he can get what he wanted out of you.
Over the next few days, Rafe tries to reach out to you, sending you numerous texts and calling your phone more times that you can count, causing each attempt to reignite the anger and pain you feel. He doesn’t know that you overheard his conversation with Ruthie and Topper, but you still ignore all his attempts to get in contact with you and you eventually block him, wanting him out of your life after what hearing what he said.
While you're home trying to take your mind off the whole situation you hear someone banging on your door, making you roll your eyes because whoever it is can’t be that determined to talk to you. When you open the door you see Rafe standing outside, looking at you with a look of confusion and underlying frustration. He doesn’t enjoy being ignored and he doesn’t understand why you’re being weird to him all of a sudden so he decided to pop up at your house and confront you. “Why the hell have you been ghosting me?”
You shake your head, trying to hold back the anger that flares inside you just from the sight of him. “Rafe, please leave me alone, okay? I blocked you for a reason, I don’t wanna talk to you.”
You try to shut the door, not wanting to continue a conversation with him but Rafe’s hand shoots out, stopping it from closing because he wants a more in depth explanation on why you’ve been ignoring him instead of the ‘half-assed’ one you just gave. He stares at you with narrowed eyes, clearly not used to being brushed off by you because since you started talking their hasn’t been a day where you deliberately ignored him. “What’s goin’ on with you? Did I do something?”
A bitter laugh leaves your lips before you allow the anger you feel to rise to the surface and let Rafe know exactly why you’ve been ignoring him. “Yeah, you did. Maybe it has something to do with you telling your friends I’m just a ‘hookup’ and that you’d never live with a pogue since you have so called ‘standards’.”
He blinks feeling thrown off, not seeing the connection in the meaning of your words and where they stem from. “Wait, what are you talking about?”
“I heard you at the club, Rafe!” You snap at him, the hurt you’ve been feeling over the past few days spilling over. “I heard you tell them that I’m just some Pogue you’re hooking up with, that I’m not your girlfriend, and that you’d never actually be with someone like me. Like I’m nothing!”
Rafe opens his mouth, struggling to find the right words, but you’re not interested in hearing whatever excuse he’s about to make because you know it’ll just be a lie. “I thought you were different, Rafe. I thought you actually saw me as more than that. But you just needed me to feel good about yourself for a while, right? You just liked having me around when you wanted a good fuck.”
“That’s not what I meant,” he protests, his voice pleading now. “I was just trying to… I don’t know, keep them off my back. They wouldn’t get it.”
You scoff while pinching the bridge of your nose, feeling a fresh wave of aggravation as you realize he really doesn’t get it. “And that’s the problem, Rafe. If you can’t respect me around your friends—if you’re embarrassed of what we have—then you never actually cared.”
He reaches out, trying to grab your hand, but you pull back and take a step away, not wanting to feel his touch after knowing his true feelings about you. “You made me feel like we had something,” you whisper, feeling the sting of tears but refusing to let them fall in front of him. “That we could be an actual couple but you played in my face, Rafe. You told me that you didn’t care that I was a pogue, that you wanted me with you but clearly it was bullshit.”
Rafe’s face shifts from guilt to desperation as he steps closer, his voice softening as he tries to clean up the mess he’s made. “Look, I’m sorry, okay? I was an fuckin’ idiot, and I shouldn’t have said that. I thought if I downplayed it, I could keep my friends from giving me shit about us.”
“So, you downplay me? Make me sound like I’m nothing to you just to avoid a little judgment? Do you fuckin’ hear yourself, Rafe? You didn’t just protect yourself—you tore me down in front of your friends.”
He looks away, clearly frustrated that his stupid words messed up things between the two of you but he pushes on, wanting to try and make things right. “I get it, okay? I messed up, but it doesn’t change how I feel. It’s just… complicated. You know I care about you.”
You scoff, feeling the weight of his words crushing you all over again. “Complicated? No, Rafe. It’s not complicated—it’s simple. You don’t respect me and you don’t care about me. You never did. And now you want to apologize and act like it’ll erase what you said and make everything better?” Rafe’s face twists with guilt, but his silence only fuels your anger. Every hurtful word he spoke replays in your mind, solidifying your resolve. “Too late, Rafe. You’ve already ruined it.”
He can tell that he’s losing you, that you’re emotionally pulling away from him so he starts pleading with you, not wanting to lose you. “I didn’t mean it. I’ll fix it. Just give me another chance—please.”
“No. You can’t fix it. It’s already done. You’ve made it clear who you are and how you feel about me. I’m not sticking around for whatever mess you’ve got going on in your head just so you can fuck me over again.”
His face falls, his frustration turning into panic. “Please, just let me explain—”
“I don’t want to hear anymore, Rafe.” You feel a finality in your mind and a final piece of your heart closing off, deciding not to fall into the trap of Rafe’s words again, knowing that if you do you’ll only hurt your future self when he fucks up again. “I’m not waiting around for you to figure your shit out. I’m done.”
When Rafe is face to face with the door he stands in place frozen, while his heart is hammering inside his chest. The sharp echo of the door slamming reverberates in his ears, a bitter reminder of how badly he’s screwed things up. For a moment, he’s too stunned to move, his mind reeling from the weight of your words and the way you just ended what you had with him.
A deep frustration churns inside him, mingled with guilt and regret. He never thought it would get to this point. He didn’t expect you to shut him out so completely. He knows that he hurt you, but hearing the door slam was like a slap to the face, a loud confirmation that he had lost you. Rafe knows, deep down, that he’s crossed a line he can’t uncross, that it’ll be hard for you to forgive him when the things he said were so harsh.
The realization that his actions have pushed you too far away hits him hard. His chest tightens as the panic sets in, his mind racing with how to fix things, ways of how to make you forgive him, but nothing comes to him. The words “I’m sorry” feel hollow, like a cheap way out. He’s played this game before, but now it feels different. You’re different.
He steps back slowly and walks to his car with his head hanging down, looking back at the door with a mixture of frustration and sorrow. He never meant to hurt you, to make you feel less than but the damage is already done. And now, with you shutting him out, he has no idea if he can ever make things right, if he can ever win his sweet pogue back.
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Fanbase — @ietss @shimmeringana @ims1 @anything4yooongi @genesis-p4l-love @oatmealisweird @ilovechickfilasauce @brooklynadoresdior @jordscosplay @taylormarieee @rivivie @shadyshadyy @m-mally @jj-maybank944 @bakugouswaif @princessadaniii8
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unknown-cold · 14 hours ago
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I didn't expect that there were people who say that the problems that happened in the show were bc of Vi. But It's good there are people defending her. Are they crazy leave my girl alone!
I mean it's very clear who caused the problem. Jayce bc he made the hextech stones. And Silco later on, but he seems to have become a good person in another universe.
And like the same thing said by a person named Ellie: "Vi's death or rather the child's death stopped Hextech getting green lit"
Bc they saw that this is something that causes people to die, so the council will not approve its manufacture, and Jayce after seeing a dead child will certainly not work on hextech or anything related to magic anymore.
Btw I want to make a post later and talk about my opinion of the show and how this season was not as good as season 1, there are a lot of disappointing and unsatisfying things about it and the writers did not succeed in telling the story well. Especially act 3 was very rushed. Anyway I will not talk more now I will talk about that in the next post
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peppermintquartz · 3 days ago
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I'm feeling bitchily critical today so. Let's get critical.
Reasons why Season 8 of 911 (so far) sucks:
Bobby and Athena are aimless
They have no house. The logical development is for them to look for one, one for their future. That is theirs. Where are the house hunting woes? The disageeements and compromises? Are they ever going to have a chance to find a place they both love? Or build one, even?
Athena's job description is all over the place
She's giving school talks. She's conducting traffic stops. She's escorting a prisoner across state lines. She is mentoring new officers. She's a goddamn Sergeant but what is her job scope? Every single thing requiring the presence of police, apparently!
Hen and Karen have little direction for growth
The Mara adoption issue could have brought out more of their relationship, developed them in terms of relying on each other through a difficult time. The storyline with Ortiz could have really delved into the struggles of the foster care system, and how Hen and Karen broke rules designed to protect the kids. (Seriously, if a child is removed from a foster family, it's logical not allowing the foster parents to meet the child that was removed for the safety of the child). Where was the appeal to Ortiz as a mother? Where was the struggle? Where is the tension between the Wilsons and the Hans? Instead there was a Deux Ex Gerrard. And I am not even gonna start on the whole "why didn't you take leave for Halloween" shit, that stuff should have been settled when Denny was a baby. What are their next steps? Same old same old?
Gerrard is a joke
An established bigot and racist returns. He could have been a great way to show how the 118 has grown beyond him and his bullying. Instead they're cowed by him, and lets him yell at Buck? Whatever happened to the "who cares" courage in Season 7? And he gets the reward of his dream job?
Eddie is still not healed
He emotionally cheated on his girlfriend with his dead wife's doppelganger. Has he even processed what that actually means? No! His son moved to Texas. Has he coped with the loneliness in his house? Who knows? Certainly not the audience, since we don't see him go to therapy or, hell, have a full breakdown! He confides in people who aren't his friends, let alone his so-called best friend! Bobby gave him a prayer book but we don't even hear Eddie rage at a God who keeps putting devastation and challenges in his way. What wa the point of the prayer book then? He just danced in his underwear and somehow that made him smile and now he's moving across the country and, what, giving up on his home and his job? Is that really healing, Edmundo Díaz? Or are you just running from the problem again?
Chimney has no internal or external motivation
He was providing for Mara for a few months. Was he stressed about it? Did he think about seeking a promotion for a higher salary? Also, he is an immigrant. Does that influence how he teaches Jee? Has he and Maddie, white suburban raised Maddie, ever discussed the potential problems Jee might face? Or whether they wanna include some Korean culture in Jee's education, since they gave her a Korean name? Does he ever think about any of these issues? Is he at all conflicted? What does Chimney want?
Maddie
She was the one who wanted to meet Tommy. Has she done so outside of the wedding? What was her opinion of him? Is Maddie content to stay in Dispatch in the exact same position? Has she any career ambition? And about Jee: does she never think about the Korean part of Jee? Connecting to her own culture? Learning Korean, maybe? That would have been interesting because perhaps she wants her daughter to connect to that part of her roots but Chimney doesn't, for his own reasons. Also, if she wants to have a second kid, why didn't she discuss it with Chimney outright before the pregnancy? Was she not taking the pill? Were they careless again? What would she do if Chimney didn't want a second child? Abort? Given how the first pregnancy was traumatic for the whole family, including her brother, this development is showing her to be pretty self-centered, frankly. I don't know this Maddie. She's not the same one that gave Buck her Jeep to escape, knowing that she'll be hurt by an abusive husband.
Brad
Why is airtime devoted to a character that is barely connected to the 118? What is the reason behind giving him so much focus? Is he supposed to quit acting and become a firefighter or something? What is the rationale for his existence?
.
.
And I haven't even touched on Buck or Tommy.
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sol-iscus · 1 day ago
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❗️Mild arcane spoilers ❗️
Miiight ruffle some feathers.
Not EVEN going to lie, unnecessary ship wars aside, the fan base has developed such a deep love and understanding for these characters (because let’s be honest, there are some pretty intelligent people giving eye opening analyses) that after the finale, it appears that we have a better understanding of them than the actual writers.
We deserved better as the audience after all the hype over the years, all the waiting, even after some episodes got leaked a while ago, most of us remained respectful and waited to see what this season would bring us. The core characters ABSOLUTELY deserved better as well.
It felt as if I was watching all of the characters’ development be erased in real time, or become sidelined and nearly mute after being propped up to appear as if they were going to have a significant arc.
With the amount of episodes we had, it felt like they were trying to cram a bunch of different storylines into one 9 episode season and that left us with annoying plot holes and rushed sequences.
And I’m just gonna say it.
If a certain relationship needed to be sacrificed if it meant that other characters had the proper development they needed and DESERVED, then I would have preferred that much, MUCH more than that undercooked finale.
Don’t. Even. Get me started on that caitvi scene. In the cell? Right after that conversation she had with her sister? Don’t give me that nonsense about how it’s vi reclaiming her power or something. (An actual weird ass statement from Amanda Overton in a Q&A video about how that was Vi reclaiming and working through her trauma in that cell).
No apology? No groveling for forgiveness? That little argument they had lasted like five seconds and didn’t even address the earlier conflict that happened in the show after cait left vi. And before any of you say “cait apologized with her actions”
I don’t care. Two things can be true at once, she can and should have apologized directly as well as displayed that with her actions.
Moving on to Mel??? We did not nearly have enough time to explore her new abilities as a mage, her armor, and her connection to the black rose. As I said, the storylines this season should have been more refined so we could focus on a central group of characters. They did nothing but hint at her armor from the end of season 1 all the way up until now.
Also maybe I’m hallucinating, but did we ever find out what happened to the firelight’s tree?? That’s one of the main reasons Ekko and Heimerdinger went to the lab isn’t it? HELLO?
Next on my list, Jinx. This girl has suffered to no end.
- Lost her whole family except for Vi.
- Almost died once and was brought back to life.
- Tried to end her life several more times
And you slap us all in the face by writing her off?
“Oh but she may not be GONE gone, look at the glitching at the end!"
I. Don’t. Care. It’s the principle.
I’m sick and tired of seeing characters that struggle with mental health and keep having one bad event after another happen to them, never receiving a proper ending. What messages are the writers sending with this? That death is basically the answer because there’s no hope for them? Cool. That was not an honorable act of self sacrifice, that was plain insulting.
Instead, if they still really wanted to have a Jinx redemption arc and a chance to rekindle her relationship with Vi, having her tap into engineering for the betterment of Zaun would have been the better route.
We should have gotten an extra extended episode since this is last season for the Piltover/Zaun region, and for Jinx and Vi's story. I really want to blame Riot for being greedy and possibly becoming too cocky with the popularity of Arcane that they think anything would suffice because It's Arcane.
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nadvs · 2 days ago
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   ⊹ ❀ ︵ ∘  destined ⟢
pairing singledad! zach maclaren x nanny! female reader
summary after you find out you’re pregnant, you tell zach and prepare to share the news together.
this is a continuation blurb of this two-shot! requested by anon.
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You impatiently check the time on your phone again. It’s been fourteen minutes since you sat down in the private room at the doctor’s office.
Your eyes travel over the lockscreen photo from your wedding half a year ago. In the captured moment, Zach is holding Ella. Her left arm is around her father’s shoulders and her right is around yours.
Her poofy dress is sparkling under the warm banquet hall lights, her smile just as big as yours and Zach’s.
You’d done a lot of happy crying that day, but a moment after the photo was taken, you’d never had tears of joy quite like this.
Ella had run off after the shutter of the photographer’s camera and Zach pulled you in by the waist, his lips soft against your cheek, murmuring just loud enough to be heard over the music and people dancing around you, “You know what she asked me this morning?”
“What?”
“Since I get to call you my wife, if she can call you her mommy.”
You nuzzled into the crook of his neck, tearing up as he held you tighter. She had just turned seven years old and still didn’t talk about her biological mother all that much. She also hadn’t called you anything other than your name.
Zach had told you he’d be comfortable with it if Ella grew to want to call you her mom. You’d told him you’d be, too, but that you hoped she didn’t think you were ever trying to replace anyone.
“Really?” you said, your hand over your heart. “What’d you say?”
“I said she can,” he replied. You pulled back to meet his eyes, beaming up at him, almost in disbelief that three years ago, you’d knocked on his door for the first time. You could have never known the turn your life would take.
“You love her like she’s yours,” he said, his eyes glossy, “and she loves you the same way. I’m so happy she has you.”
You squeezed his hand. He’d already reassured you many times that you weren’t taking the place of Ella’s mother or being a substitution for what she lost. Instead, you’re an addition to their lives.
“I can’t believe how lucky I am,” he said. The tears he was trying to hold back fell from his eyes and he chuckled defeatedly. “Who’s cried more today, do you think?”
“I’d say it’s even,” you said with a laugh.
The door opening pulls you out of the memory. You meet the doctor’s eyes, your heart thrumming.
You and Zach had been trying for a baby for four months now. You didn’t even have to ask Ella what she thought about gaining a sibling. She’d been asking for one for a long time now.
After a string of failed attempts, you prefer not to tell Zach every time you take a test. You can see the disappointment in his eyes, no matter how hard he tries to hide it behind a gentle, “The baby just wants to make us wait.”
A couple of nights ago, when the home test you secretly took showed two lines, you booked a blood test to be sure. The doctor starts her sentence with Congratulations and you exhale a shaky breath of relief.
────୨ৎ────
Later that day, you’re folding laundry in the living room while Ella’s at school. Zach gets home from an early practice and beams when he sees you, dropping his bag on the floor.
“Hi, baby,” he says. “How are you?”
“Good. How was training?”
“I’m getting old,” he chuckles, stretching his arms over his head. You laugh.
Zach had already decided that after eight years, this is his last season professionally playing. He was offered a position on the coaching team after he told his managers he’d be resigning. He’s ready to slow down, to work a job that doesn’t have such a high risk of injury, to have more time for his family.
He sits next to you, takes the t-shirt out of your hands, folds it and then puts it on the stack on the table so that you’re free to hug him. You giggle as he leans forward and pushes you back against the couch. He’s hovering over you, his cheek pressed on yours as he hugs you, smelling like his body wash.
Zach lives for these simple moments. Getting home to you, holding you, grounding himself and reminding himself that this is what life is about.
“Hey, how’s your day look six Mondays from now?” you ask.
“That’s specific,” he laughs. “I’ll have to check. Why?”
“I’d prefer it if you came to the ultrasound with me.”
He pulls back, searching your face in awe.
“What?” he whispers. “Are you… What?”
“I am,” you laugh, tears building in your eyes, stroking his soft hair.
“When did you…?”
“This morning,” you say. “I didn’t want to tell you in case it came back negative.”
“I’m…” Zach doesn’t have words. He leans forward, gently pressing his lips against yours, shuffling quickly so he doesn’t put any weight on you.
“It’s okay,” you laugh. “You won’t break us.”
“Us,” he repeats happily, his voice cracking. He looks down at your stomach, gently putting his hand on you. “It’s okay that you made us wait,” he whispers to the baby. “I already know you were worth it. Are you being gentle with your mom?”
He looks up at you, a flash of concern washing over his awestruck face.
“I’m a little more tired than usual,” you say. “But nothing crazy yet.”
“I can’t believe it,” Zach sighs. He sniffles, his heart racing with happiness as his eyes fill with tears. “I can’t believe it.”
“I know,” you breathe. “Me, neither. We can give her the book soon.”
Zach smiles. He’d bought a children’s book a few months back about becoming a big sister for when it was time to tell Ella a baby was on the way.
Having known you for nearly four years now, he was already well aware of how pure your heart is. But the fact that your first thought is to tell Ella is yet another reminder of how you’ve always seen yourself as not only sharing your life with him, but with her, too.
“Gonna be hard not to do it right away,” he says.
“Do you have any idea how hard these last three hours have been?” you laugh. “I couldn’t wait to tell you. But we’ll share the news with her after the first trimester. To be safe.”
“Of course,” he agrees, cupping your face and pulling you in for another tender kiss.
────୨ৎ────
By the three month mark, your appetite has grown and fatigue has hit you hard. When the day comes to tell Ella, you’re bursting with excitement to tell her the news.
After dinner, you sit on the couch, already used to Zach quietly telling you to sit down and not do any housework.
Ella’s doing homework at the coffee table as you help. You gaze at her as she concentrates on her writing and remember the four-year-old she was when you first walked into this house.
She’s nearly eight now and still has so many of the qualities you’d first noticed about her. She’s energetic and loves conversation and never hesitates to show affection.
Zach comes in from cleaning up after dinner and raises his eyebrows at you, discreetly holding the book. You nod to confirm you’re ready, nervous.
He sits next to you, taking one last moment to look at you and at his daughter, accepting that this is the last moment the three of you will have like this. His family is growing now, and it feels like his heart is, too.
“Is it two R’s? Or one?” Ella mumbles, the pencil in her hand. She looks up when you don’t answer, too busy trying not to cry as you watch her. “Are you okay, mommy?”
“Yeah,” you say. “I’m okay. Can you sit with us for a moment?”
Ella nods, running towards you. Zach stops her in his arms before she lands too close to you. You laugh, having already told him privately that she’s never rough enough to hurt the baby, but he can’t be too careful.
“I have a book for you,” Zach says, kissing Ella on the temple as she sits between you. “Can you tell me what you think?”
He hands her the purple hardcover.
“What’s it called?” you ask.
“Big Sisters Are The Best,” she reads. She curiously opens the page, gazing over the illustrations of a little girl with a baby.
“Thank you,” she says politely. “I’ll tell my friend Kaley about this book. Maybe she can borrow it. She’s a big sister.”
You chuckle, meeting Zach’s eyes. He rubs Ella’s back and tells her, “You’re going to be a big sister, too, honey.”
Ella’s gaze darts up to him, then to you, then back again.
“Really?” she says. Zach’s face brightens with endearment, eyes growing shiny with tears.
“Really?” she repeats, looking at you.
“Really,” you say, putting a hand over your stomach. “That’s why I keep going back for seconds at dinner lately. There’s a baby in here making me extra hungry.”
Ella stands up, unable to contain her happiness, jumping up and down in her spot a few times before wrapping you into a hug. You laugh as she wiggles in your arms.
Zach wipes his eyes, still unsure of what he did to deserve this sort of happiness. It’s like he’s in another world, experiencing a type of joy reserved specifically for him.
“This is the best day ever,” she says. “And you’re the best mommy ever and daddy’s the best daddy ever.”
“He is,” you agree, looking at him with pure love.
────୨ৎ────
“You’re such a girl dad,” you say amusedly when you go into Ella’s bedroom.
Zach’s sitting on the floor as Ella adds what looks like the twentieth clip in his hair, while he holds Olivia, who’s happily ripping up a piece of paper.
He smiles at you gratefully. Your one-year-old is exactly how Ella was at that age. Curious, smiley, and eager to make messes wherever she can. He knows you’re technically a blended family, but it has never felt like that.
“Ella, can you do mine next?” you ask.
“After Olivia,” she says happily. “I told her she’s next and I have to keep my promise.”
“Of course,” you say. “She’s lucky to have such a nice big sister.”
“Ebba,” Olivia babbles.
“Ella,” Ella corrects. You laugh. It feels like yesterday, you’d just met her and Zach, and he was correcting her on how she’d called him the bestest. Now, she’s growing before your eyes, already so mature and well-mannered.
“But Ebba’s okay,” Ella says with a smile. She leans to give her little sister a kiss on the forehead, earning a giggle from her, clapping for more.
You sit on the floor next to Zach, squeezing his knee lovingly as your daughters laugh together. He takes your hand and brings it up to kiss the back of it.
“And to think,” you joke, “we wouldn’t be here if I bombed my interview.”
Zach laughs, shaking his head as he kisses your hand again.
“No,” he says. “This is how life was meant to be. You would have found us, no matter what. I know it.”
You grin at him, nodding in agreement.
Sitting here with his wife and daughters is the definition of destiny. Zach knows deep in his soul that he was always fated to be right here, with his heart split between three beautiful girls.
(the end)
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hadersversion · 1 day ago
Text
‘tis the damn season.
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“so we could call it even, you could call me babe for the weekend.”
pairing: rafe cameron x pogue! reader
warnings: 18+, SMUT, p in v, fingering, begging, overstimulation, use of babe....let me know if i forget anything lol. ALSO in some places in america, thansgiving eve is literally just a holiday to get drunk in your hometown
your home for the holidays for the first time in years. you've been avoiding rafe, the reason you've been away for so long, but after seeing him again all the old feelings come back. when rafe sends a text one night, you end up in the back of his truck like old times.
i parked my car out front of my childhood home, staring at the old exterior.
somethings never change.
being back in the outer banks felt strange. it has been a while since i have been back, avoiding come home for as long as i can. but with a few begging phone calls from my mom and kiara, here i am.
i knock on my front door and am greeted with a bright smile.
"jj?" i ask, confused.
"welcome home, stranger." he says, with a hug and grabbing my bag.
i walk into my living room and see the pogues, sitting with my mom. a homemade 'welcome home' banner hanging above their heads.
my mom comes over and gives me a big hug. "i thought i would never see this face again." she says with a squeeze.
"boston isn't that far, mom." i tell her but i know she would never leave the outer banks. never in a million years. i turn towards the others and smile. "i wonder who could've put this together?" i say, looking at kiara.
"hey it wasn't all me, pope was the one who brought it up." she says, engulfing me in her arms.
"guilty." pope chimes in, joining the hug. i feel jj and john b join in as well. my family.
we break away and hang out in the living room, catching up.
"don't tell me you went all city on us, y/n." john b pokes fun at me.
"not completely. but it is nice having more things to do than hang on the beach and smoke." i wink.
"who could want more than that?" jj asks, making us all laugh.
"speaking of," kiara starts. "there's a little thanksgiving eve celebration happening at the wreck. just some people from high school. nothing big."
"just a chance to get drunk of our asses and go to dinner the next day hungover." jj says, causing kiara to nudge him.
"what do you say? want to join us?" i look around the room at my friends, all eager waiting for my response. with a sigh, i nod and they all cheer. "thank god, i don't think i could've done that alone."
i smile and nod. it should be fun, it will be. but my brain can't help to wonder if the one person who's kept me away from coming home will be there. no, he wouldn't. not with the pogues. but a part of me can't help but hope to see his face.
───✱*.。:。✱*.:。✧*.。✰*.:。✧*.。:。*.。✱ ───
i fix my sweater in the mirror in my room, my body fidgeting from anxiety. it's been a few days and i still can't shake that feeling from my body about being home. sure, i'm happy but this place holds so many memories. memories i wish to bury. i stare at the photo booth picture tucked into my mirror of him and i. i guess i forgot to hide this with the rest of the stuff. i take it off the mirror and sigh, examining it.
almost four years since it was taken. almost four years since we called it quits. and yet, he still haunts my memories. his presence making itself known through cheap beer at the bar, expensive men's cologne at the mall, exhaust that leaves motorbikes as they ride down the street. he's always there, whether i like it or not.
the sound of a horn breaks me free of my thoughts.
"y/n, they're here!" my mom calls from downstairs.
"coming!" i open my dresser drawer and slip the photo in before racing downstairs. i kiss my mom on the cheek and slip out the door, rushing into the van.
"ready to get fucked up?" jj asks with his devilish smirk.
i roll my eyes and laugh. "let's go."
we pull up to the wreck, it's already dark outside and a slight breeze fills the air. we all hurry in, greeted by familiar faces. my name is called from every direction, old friends from high school or the beach. all my fellow pogues who i know and love. when i'm done making my rounds, i head over to our table. everyone has some drink in their hand, beer or cocktail, and they all smile up at me.
"who would've though little y/n y/l/n would be a pogue celebrity?" pope jokes.
i flip him off and slide in next to john b. kiara hands me a beer and i take a sip. "i'm not a celebrity, i'm just one of the only people from this island who actually made it off."
they all make jokes at my despair, teasing me in any way they could when sarah walks up. i feel my stomach flip and i smile at her. "y/n!" she embraces me. "i'm so happy to see you!"
i hug her back and smile. "me too, sar. how's everything been?"
"the usual but i can't complain." she sits next to me and lays her head on my shoulder. "it's been forever."
"it has." i sigh. "it really has."
we all share stories and laugh around the table. we take shots, chug beer, and play different drinking games. just like old times sake.
"i need another beer." i say with a slight slur in my voice, standing up. "anyone else?" everyone shakes their head as i excuse myself.
i walk up to the bar and wait my turn, twirling my debit card in my hand. it could be the alcohol but i feel content and happy to be home.
"y/n?"
until that moment.
i don't want to turn around, i don't even want to accept my fate in this situation.
i know that voice, i could recognize it in a crowd of millions of people. it was the voice that lingered in my dreams, my thoughts.
i turn around and look at the man.
"rafe."
he looks older, his hair buzzed and some facial hair covering his face. but those eyes. they are the same eyes of the boy i loved.
we stood there, not saying a word. just taking the sight of one another in.
"i didn't know you were home." he says, not breaking eye contact.
i nod, biting my lip. "i am, i got home monday."
he chuckles to himself and shakes his head. "how long you here for?"
"till saturday. then i'm going back to boston." my throat feels scratchy and my face is on fire. i want to be anywhere but here now.
his eyes continue to study me. "two more budweiser's, please." he says to the bartender. i open my mouth to protest but he shakes his head. "on me, think of it as a welcome home gift."
the bartender hands me the beer and i smile. i turn back to rafe and tip the bottle to him. "thanks."
"no problem." he clinks his bottle to mine. we both take a long sip. my eyes are desperately trying to find a place to land, ending up on the bright sign above the bar. but rafe's are still on me.
"you okay?" kiara asks as she walks behind rafe. she is my gurdian angel.
"yeah, just waiting for my beer. excuse me." i squeeze past rafe and walk back to my table. i look back at him and smiles. i hate him.
a few drinks more and my ears are ringing. it was loud and everyone was far too drunk. i excuse myself for air outside. there are a few people lingering, smoking cigarettes or waiting for ubers. i smile and take in the nostalgia.
"you know, it would've been nice to know you were home." i hear rafe's voice next to me.
i roll my eyes and look up at him. "oh, would it have been? sorry, i didn't think you'd care." i say coldly. that liquid courage is taking control.
he looks down at me. "and why would i have not cared?"
"hmm, let me think." i put my finger to my chin. "oh, right. 'don't ever contact me again. we're so over. i wish i never met you. blah. blah. blah.' do you want me to go on?" i say to him.
i watch as he processes what i said to him, the words of our last fight. he looks guilty, for once in his life. "that was years ago, y/n. w-we were just kids."
"oh, really? then why haven't i heard from you for the past few years? phone works both ways, rafe." i say, shrugging.
he stands there quietly, i got him.
"how's school been?" he asks, nonchalantly.
"are you for real?" i ask.
"what? i'm being nice." he says.
i huff with frustration. "you are such an ass." i push pass him and walk onto the sidewalk.
"where are you going?" he asks, following after me.
"away from you." i say, not looking back.
i hear him run up behind me and he gently grabs my arm. "y/n. y/n, stop."
i turn to look at him. "what do you want from me, huh? you want to torture me even more?"
he stares at me, hand still on my arm. "what? of course not. y/n, i missed you."
"fuck off." i spit out without thinking.
"you're drunk."
"and you're an asshole." i say, flatly. "you...you fucking broke my heart and you expect me to act like everything is fucking dandy?"
"y/n." he tries to plead his case.
"no, rafe. you don't get to waltz in here and act like everything is okay with us. do you know how much you fucked me over? one day you're telling me you love me and you want to move to boston with me and the next, you're dumping me over the phone." i poke his chest. "i did everything you wanted, i kept what we had between us a secret, i took care of you. and nothing was enough for you."
he looks down at his feet in guilt. "i-i know, i'm sorry. i was...i was fucked up back then. with my dad on my case and the drinking...i wasn't okay. i felt like..." he cut himself off.
"what, rafe? you felt like, what?" i ask.
"like i was going to hold you back, alright?" he raises his voice. "you are too good for this place, for me. i didn't want to hold you back. i loved you too much to do that to you." i stare at him and laugh. "what? what's so fucking funny?"
"you, rafe. you." i sigh. "instead of being a man and handling your emotions, you ran and hid. we could've worked that out. but you were too scared." i close my eyes and shake my head. "goodbye, rafe."
i walk down the street, hugging my body as the wind blows. a weight has been lifted off my shoulders but there's still that feeling i get whenever i think of him. that feeling that i miss him.
───✱*.。:。✱*.:。✧*.。✰*.:。✧*.。:。*.。✱ ───
thanksgiving flew by, even though i had a hangover that felt like it would last a lifetime.
i helped my mom clean up the kitchen as the pogues did the dishes and took the trash out. just like old times.
once we were done, we sat outside around the bonfire. you would think after yesterday, drinking would come to a halt but jj found a bottle of vodka in the freezer and mixed it with kiara's apple cider. we all enjoyed each other's company but my mind could not help but wander. my last conversation with rafe ringing through my head.
"instead of being a man and handling your emotions, you ran and hid."
i shake my head and take a sip of my spiked cider. as much as it rang true, there was still that part of me that wonders 'what if?'. the more i thought about it, the more i wanted to pick up my phone.
no, i need to be the bigger person. i'm stronger than that. i can't text him first.
then i felt my phone buzz in my lap.
rafe: hey
i stare at the text and bite my lip. i know i should ignore it, let it go unread. but my fingers work against my brain and type 'hi' back to him. i sit there, eagerly waiting for a response.
rafe: can we talk?
rafe: i'm sorry about last night, i'm a fucking idiot.
rafe: there's so many things i could say to you rn
rafe: but i miss you.
rafe: i wanna see you.
i look around at my friends and sigh, they would be so mad at me for this.
y/n: sure, give me like an hour.
y/n: park down the street at the usual spot.
my friends leave my house, mainly due to me faking another wave of hungover puking. i run upstairs and check myself out in the mirror, i look damn good. when i get his text, i sneak out the backdoor and hurry down the street. i see his truck parked under the big tree, the spot he always parked in.
i open the truck door and hop into the passenger seat. i look over at him, he's still in his dressy clothes. a blue polo that hugged his arms right and khakis that made his thighs look exceptionally big. he knew what he was doing and i can't tell if i hate him or love him for it.
we drive in silence for a bit, his radio playing music faintly. his hands grip the steering wheel as his mind looks like he's on another planet. i play with the ends of my sweatshirt, anxiously waiting for him to do something. anything.
he pulls up to the beach, the spot where we would always come to. it was dark and the waves crashed against the shore loudly. he turns the car off and looks over at me.
"thanks for meeting me." he says simply.
"sure."
"i'm sorry about last night. you went out to have fun and i ruined it, i know i did."
i just nod at him.
"and...you were right. about it all." he sighs, running his hands over his face. "i should've manned up, talked to you about how i was feeling. but you know how i get. i get too in my head and just jump to conclusions. it wasn't fair to you." he looks into my eyes. "these past few years without you have been a living hell and i have only myself to blame."
"are you drunk? high?" i ask.
"w-what?"
"are you not sober?" i ask again.
"i'm sorry, what? of course i'm fucking sober." he says. "why would i not be?"
"rafe cameron...taking accountability? i'm sorry, it just seems so...foreign?" i laugh.
"i'm being serious, y/n."
i laugh again. "oh, i'm sure. and...the sky is green. we live on the planet pluto. aliens exist and so do unicorns!"
he pinches the bridge of his nose. "y/n, i'm telling the truth! god, you always joke around."
"yeah, because i know you." i say to him. "and you would rather eat concrete than admit you are wrong."
"eat concrete?" he asks, with a smirk.
"you know what i mean!" i huff with frustration.
he grabs my hand and stares in my eyes. "y/n, i am fully sober. we are not in another universe, it is not opposite day. i was wrong and i am sorry."
my brain malfunctions as i look into his eyes. "y-you mean it?"
"every word i said."
my brain not working means i experienced a lack of better judgment. i grab rafe by his collar and connect our lips for the first time in years. this kiss, the one i have longed for since i left this place, was the missing puzzle piece i've been searching for in my life. everything seemed to make sense again.
his hands cupped my cheeks as his tongue slipped into my mouth. he was hungry for me and i wasn't going to stop him because i felt insatiable as well. his hands roamed from my cheeks down to my neck and onto my shoulders.
i needed more.
i climbed onto his lap and straddled him. my arms connected around his neck as he pressed against me. i felt his cock hard against his khakis and i wanted it. i wanted it all. i rubbed myself against him, causing us both to moan.
he continued to kiss me until he broke away and looked at me. his puffy lips formed a cocky smile as he brushed his nose against mine. "you missed me."
"shut up." i was itching for more.
"admit it, you missed me. you missed the way i made you feel." he states.
"rafe, shut up and kiss me, please."
"ah ah ah." he shook his head. "not until you tell me."
"you're such an ass." i roll my eyes, trying to catch my breathe.
"yet, here you are, rubbing yourself against me in my truck." he says, kissing my cheek. his lips then go to my ear and down my neck. "i want it all with you, right now, babe. but i need to hear it."
"fine! fuck, i missed you. are you happy?" i groan, needing him.
"very. get in the backseat." he demands. i quickly follow his order, hopping in the back over the seats. he gets out of the truck and opens up the back door, sliding in next to me. "come here." he pulls me back onto his lap and we pick up where we left off. i continue to rub myself against him as he sloppily kisses me. "just like old times." he jokes and i hit his shoulder. "c'mon, don't act like you don't think about it."
"oh, i do. but i bet you think about it more than i do." i smirk.
"probably." he laughs. his fingers fall to the hem of my sweater and he plays with it. "now are we only here to kiss or?"
"why? you wanna fuck me in your truck? just like old times." i say, making fun of what he just said.
"i do, i wanna fuck you right here, right now. it's all i've been wanting to do." he kisses my jawline. "do you want me to fuck you?"
this is what i missed the most, our back and forth.
"yes, rafe. i want you to fuck me." i moan out.
with that, he practically rips my sweater off my body and starts to kiss down my chest. his large hands palm my clothed breast. i bite my lip and let my head fall back, missing the way he affected my body. i felt his hand snake around to the back and unclip my bra quickly.
"show off." i say, out of breathe.
i smirks and connects his lips to my nipple, sucking and licking it. his hand massaging my other. "don't pretend you don't like it."
i smirk and shake my head.
he continues to focus on my tits, going back and forth between the two.
"more." i whisper, eyes clenched shut.
"what was that?" he asked in a teasing tone.
"i need more, rafe. please." i beg.
"look at you all needy for me. i knew you missed me." his hand slipped under my jeans and panties, stopping right at my core. i felt his fingers curl inside me, going in and out. "all wet for me, huh? what a good girl." he pushed in, fingering my cunt, when his thumb found my sensitive bud. he added pressure, circling it, and i felt as though i was seeing stars.
"s-shit." i cry out, moving my hips to try and gain some friction.
"feel good, baby? let me hear how could i make you feel." he picked up his pace and a pornographic moan escaped my lips. it's been forever since someone has made me feel this good. rafe knew my body like it was his own, he knew how to get me going. "there we go, like how my fingers feel?"
"u-uh huh." i nod, mouth hanging open.
his fingers worked their magic, rubbing my clit at a pace that'll make me come undone in no time. "love the way you look on top of me, baby. so fucking sexy." he attached his lips to my tits again and continued fingering me.
i felt on fire.
i place one hand on the window and the other on his shoulder, holding on for dear life. the more he whispered about me and the faster his fingers were going, i was cumming on his fingers before i knew it. i rode out my high, screaming his name. once i was done, i felt him pull his fingers out of my pants, my juices getting all over myself. i stared down at him, trying to catch my breathe, as he popped his fingers into his mouth and sucked.
"just as good as i remember." he cleaned his fingers off and kissed me again. my hands ran down his buff chest and stopped at the bottom of his polo, lifting it up. his gold chain laid against his chiseled body, he was perfect. i felt as though i was in a trance as i began to kiss down his chest. i could feel his groans vibrating in his chest and i smirked because i was the one making him feel this way. "i need to fuck you."
"you need to?" i laugh, kissing lower and lower.
"yes, y/n. i need to bury myself inside of you, please." he pleaded.
"i like when you're the one begging." i bite him lightly, causing him to hiss.
"i bet."
i unbuttoned his khakis and sat up so he could slip them off. his grey boxers were discolored from the precum leaking off his cock. he took his underwear off and his cock sprung out. "i-i don't have protection." he said, mentally cursing himself out.
"well, are you clean?" i ask.
"yes. i-i haven't been with anyone since." he openly admitted.
i felt the darkness overtake my eyes as i lower myself down onto him. his breath hitched as he slipped all the way in. he was deep inside of me, causing a few tears to leave my eyes. but the pain subsided as he started to rock my hips with his hands, moving me back and forth. i picked up the rhythm he started with me and placed my hands on his shoulder to steady myself. i felt the truck rocking back and forth as i did so.
his hands found my ass and rested there. "fuck, i missed your pussy. so good, takes me so well." he kissed my chest as i grinded back and forth.
i felt my finger nails dig into his shoulder as his cock hit all the right spots. i looked down at him and he stared at me in awe, like i was some work of art. "fuck, rafe. you're so big."
i bite my lip as i let my head fall back in pleasure. i ride him fast as i keep saying his name. "shit, y/n. you're such a good girl, you're so hot. you feel so tight."
i connect our lips, i feel his hands tighten around my ass. this means he was close. "i want you to cum in me, rafe." his eyes widen as he opens his mouth to ask for permission. "p-please fill me up. i miss it so much." i say, trying to catch my breathe.
with that, he lets out a groan and my name falls from his lips like a prayer. "y/n." i feel him coming inside me, painting me. it doesn't take long for his thumb to find my clit again. with the extra pressure applied to my overstimulated cunt, i feel my head reeling. the air in the truck is hot, making it almost hard for me to breath. it all feels too much, my body releasing onto rafe yet again.
we sit there, panting with our eyes closed. i rest my head on his sweaty chest and he kisses me gently. he rubs my back, tracing circles into it.
"felt even better than i imagine." he says, his voice gruff.
"you thought about it a lot, huh?" i smirk.
"all the fucking time."
i take him out of me and sit next to him in the truck. the windows are foggy and our hands find each other, holding them. i get a sense of weird nostalgia, from how things used to be with us.
"well that was a thanksgiving to remember." i joke, trying not to feel overwhelmed by what happened.
"'tis the damn season." he replies.
i slowly slip my sweater back on and try to find my pants.
"w-wait." rafe says. "is this...is this it? just a single fuck and you're gone."
i look at him, his eyes pleading with me.
"i go back to boston on saturday rafe, we only have like a day and a half."
i wish we could keep this going, i wish this was how things always were. but i had to think realistically. i have to go back home, i have to move on with my new life.
he grabs my hand and squeezes it. "boston is only an 11 hour drive. hour or two by plane."
"rafe." i say.
"i can't lose you again. i can't, y/n. these past few years have sucked without you. i can't wait until you come home for christmas again. now that i've got you again, i can't risk it."
i sigh and kiss his hand. "i know. i know." i close my eyes and shake my head. "we'll make it work. we almost did it before."
"we can do it again." he smiles sweetly. i kiss his lips gently, laying my hand against his chest.
"you'd do an 11 hour car ride for me?"
"y/n, i'd fucking walk if i have to." he smiles.
i roll my eyes and kiss his cheek. "you're so cheesy."
he lays me back against the truck seats and kisses me. "don't act like it doesn't work for you."
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strawberrykidneystone · 2 days ago
Text
a baroness after my own heart
summary: sevika from house silco has officially entered the marriage market after years of putting it off and she falls in love with the first woman she lays her eyes on
a/n: sevika… mr. darcy hand flex….
tags: not historically accurate, love at first sight, dancing, regency era-ish, me being a sap, drama, gossip, romance, not historically accurate
ao3 version
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viscount silco’s ward, jinx, has been in the marriage market for merely a year and has seemed to scare off every man and woman with her odd personality. earl vander’s ward, lady violet, had recently married into house kiramman. it was quite the scandal when it was revealed that jinx and violet were estranged sisters living in different houses, but the excitement died down quickly with the new ball season starting. no doubt that silco’s influence had also stopped the gossip papers from writing about his family.
you were not a duchess by any means, but you had quite a steep dowry that had many suitors show an interest in you, but each one had been just as boring as the last. your mother was not pleased with your efforts and made an ultimatum, you had to get married this year or you would be sent off to live with your aunt in the middle of nowhere, so you were eager to see the fresh meat entering the market this year.
lady mel visited your house this afternoon with a paper in her hand. she was currently being courted by sir jayce, a man of lower social standing than herself, but she had been adamant about marrying for love. of course, the courting had somewhat come to a hold with the recent scandal, but it was sure to start up again as balls exposed more of people's relationships to the public. you had heard a few rumors about him and his lab partner viktor, but they were quickly laid to rest by mel's mother, duchess ambessa, and no one questioned her judgment, ever.
the two of you settled in the drawing room with tea and biscuits, your handmaidens making themselves scarce on the other side of the room to allow the two of you to talk semi-privately.
after taking a sip from her tea, mel brought your attention to the small paper in her hands, "my dear friend, i have just received word that sevika is entering the marriage market this year."
you had to hold yourself back from spitting out your tea. no one had seen lady sevika in quite a while, she was at the side of silco most of the time and when she wasn't she was in the bars down in the village that no other members of high society would be caught dead in. she was a baroness in her own right and had her own estate, but she was known to work closely with the viscount in many aspects since her parents had taken up traveling the world. personally, you had never seen her, but you had heard that she is intimidating as she is beautiful. you thickly swallowed your tea and set your cup down on the saucer, "pray tell, is there a reason why? she has had ample time to enter the market whenever she wanted, why now?"
"there was no reason given, a kitchen maid wrote to me in haste as soon as she heard," mel said with a grin, she always liked to have her fingers in all of the pies, paying off servants for small bits of gossip was included into keep tabs on everyone. you shook your head in disbelief, the whole thing seemed fishy.
"perhaps it's to draw away attention from the scandal of the two sisters," you suggested and cocked your head curiously.
mel waved her hand dismissively and shook her head, "most people have already forgotten about that by now. whatever the reason, it's sure to be an interesting season this year."
you nodded in agreement and took a small bite from one of the sweet biscuits, letting your imagination run wild surrounding the house of silco and vander. you and mel continued to talk about everything under the sun, mostly gossip about other houses and who's getting desperate to not be considered a spinster next year. before you knew it, the sun was almost down and you bid her farewell at the door, her carriage taking her back to her mansion in the hills.
the next week was pure chaos.
picking out fabrics for dresses, trying out hairstyles for this season, pairing accessories with each other, and keeping up with the constant rumor mill. as long as you didn't hear anything about yourself, you were fine with a little gossip here and there. there had been a little talk about how you were getting close to being a thornback*, but you simply ignored them. you were determined to get married this season, even if it killed you.
before you knew it, it was time for the first ball of the season. lady mel's family was hosting of course, with no expense spared for decorating the huge mansion. there were gold decorations everywhere decorating the house with fresh-cut roses intertwined in delicate patterns. the rose bushes that lined the front of the house were lit up with protected candles, the whole house glowing like a sun against the night sky.
exiting your carriage in your custom-fit gown with elbow-length gloves, a curly updo with a headband of pearls in your hair, and a pearl choker to match, you confidently walked into the ball with your family.
with your fan hanging on your wrist and your dance card in its proper case, you immediately walked up close to the dance floor, scanning the crowd. it was mostly filled with faces you had seen before with a few you didn't recognize, but you couldn't help but feel nervous. you were thankful for the gloves on your hands absorbing the sweat that would no doubt be building up on your hands, but you were still hopeful for this evening.
suddenly, the whole room fell silent. you turned your head towards the entrance you just walked through and held back a gasp. there was duchess caitlyn and lady violet arm and arm, with the house of silco, vander, and kiramann following up behind them. they posed a united front together and you had to praise them for their bravery showing up at all. their footsteps echoed throughout the room with the occasional ‘thump’ from silco’s cane. the group paused in front of the ballroom, not unlike two armies about to attack each other. mel quickly snapped at the orchestra to ease the tension and they picked up their playing again, people slowly going back to their conversations and dancing. the big group quickly dispersed, acting casual as if nothing over the summer had happened. duchess caitlyn and lady- duchess violet took to the dance floor and waltzed with each other, a genuine aura of love surrounding them as they glided around the circle of people even though people were very obviously keeping their distance.
you walked through the crowd and stayed on the edges, ending up close to the refreshment table. god it was going to be a long evening, but thankfully not an uneventful one.
it’s not that you were uninterested in marriage, you just hadn’t found the right person. you were resolute about marrying for love, which annoyed your family to no end as they had all married for wealth and status. you had hoped to talk to mel for a bit, but she was already busy waltzing around the dance floor with jayce, much to lady ambessa’s dismay. looking over to the side of the room, you saw jinx and sir ekko passionately talking about some sort of trinket in her hands. a fond smile graced your lips, it’s as if the two never grew up, still up to their usual antics.
just as you were about to chalk this night up to simply standing on the outside as just another wallflower and observing other couples, somebody caught your eye.
a tall woman with a short and straight haircut that sharply framed her face, her grey eyes lighting up against her darker features. she had the most endearing wide nose you had ever seen and full lips to match. she wore a beautifully tailored burgundy suit complete with a black vest and a white undershirt, tan pants, and a black cravat adorned around her neck to complete the look. she was simultaneously the most beautiful and handsome woman you had ever laid your eyes on.
and she was staring right back at you.
the rest of the world seemed to blur away and your heartbeat picked up, you had to convince yourself that you weren’t having an aneurism in the middle of the ball or somehow daydreaming of this perfect woman. the room seemed to light up as if the world had been dimmed until this moment, you could see nothing else but her. the two of you wandered intently toward each other as if in a trance, never breaking eye contact as you made your way through the crowd.
before you knew it you were face to face with her, both of you awestruck by the feeling that your hearts had been searching for each other all your lives, two halves that were now whole. sevika cleared her throat and slightly bowed her upper body, keeping her eyes on yours as she held out her left hand with the palm up, “may i have this dance?”
your voice was caught in your throat, all you could do was nod and placed your hand in hers. as soon as you laid your hand in her warm palm, you knew that you never wanted to let go.
she led you to the dance floor and people were already starting to whisper about the two of you as they parted to let the two of you onto the floor, but you couldn't care less in this moment. the two of you smoothly got into a classical waltz position with her leading, her left hand never leaving yours as she held your interconnected hands up and placed her other hand on your waist. you rested your arm on top of hers and followed her lead in the dance, absolutely enthralled with your partner as you twirled around the dance floor. it was like the two of you were floating on air above everything else, dancing in your own little world where it's only you and her.
all too soon, the song ended and suddenly you were back in a crowded ballroom standing in front of the woman you danced with, whose name you didn't even know. the two of you bowed to one another and exited the floor together. reluctantly letting go of her hand, you clasped your hands in front of your dress formally and smiled up at her, "thank you for the dance miss?..."
"sevika, baroness sevika," she said in a smooth deep voice with a bow of her head.
you held back a gasp and quickly introduced yourself, curtseying while holding your skirt.
the two of you quickly got lost in conversation as if you had known her all of your life, having more in common with her than anyone else you had ever met in your life. sadly, the evening was coming to a close and the last dance of the night was announced. sevika gave you a knowing look and you nodded, the two of you joining the other couples for one last dance. she was such an easy dance partner to follow and you couldn't help but feel safe in her arms. losing yourself completely in the dance, the music ended far too soon for your liking. you wished you could've stayed here and danced with sevika all night.
alas, each of your houses were starting to depart and sevika looked down at you with the biggest puppy eyes, holding both of your hands in hers, " would it be too soon if i called upon you tomorrow?"
you giggled and squeezed her hands in yours, "i shall simply die if i do not see you tomorrow."
sevika's face lit up and she brought your hands up to her mouth, kissing your knuckles, "then tomorrow it shall be."
she slowly walked backward, holding your hands as long as she could until she finally had to let go, silco calling to her from their carriages. she stumbled slightly going down the stairs which made you giggle until your mother sharply called your name. you quickly joined your own house once again, giddy in anticipation for the next day.
a/n: i tried to leave reader's outfit as ambiguous as possible so you could imagine your own outfit but FUCK i love pearls <3
part 2, this scene and backstory from sevika's perspective?
*thornback: single woman over the age of 25
taglist: @maneskinwh0re @archangeldyke-all
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jhilsara · 1 day ago
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Of Bookstore, Coffees, and Late Nights
Sunshine!Reader/Southern!Reader/Plus Sized!Reader
Summary: After Spencer is shot he can't do much in the field for a while, being stuck to the offices in Quantico. His insomnia starts to amp up and instead of an urge for McDonald's at 1 AM he finds himself desperate for a new book and a coffee. Somehow, he finds the Midnight Owl, the late night bookstore/cafe open at weird hours with a cute southern co owner who probably gets the same amount of sleep as he does.
She also makes the best coffee that is disgustingly sweet. Exactly how he likes it.
Word Count: 11k
Warnings: Mentions of Season 5 100 episode and canon typical BAU themes
|Next
The one with the late night bookstore    
If Spencer could pace, he would, but his new semi-permanent crutch situation was impeding his mobility. He hasn’t been able to sleep, much less relax with the knowledge of Hotch being stabbed by George Foyet in his own home. Or how it’s clear that Foyet is playing an extreme game with the BAU, but mostly Hotch. Spencer didn’t even want to think about poor Haley and Jack being thrown into witness protection. These were scenarios Spencer knew came with the job he does, but seeing it happen to people he knows and cares about, makes his stomach churn. He couldn’t imagine if it was his own mother being threatened. It sends a cold chill down his back. He needs a distraction.    
Spencer’s eyes drag over to his used and abused bookshelf. Looking through his collection trying to find something to read. Even for a distraction he’s not very interested in rereading any of the texts on his shelf. His go to comfort of Sherlock Holmes doesn’t even seem all that appealing at the moment. He needs something that isn’t about criminals or detectives right now. Too bad nothing else on his shelf seemed to catch his eye. Spencer eyes his clock and the analog clock on his wall tells him it’s two in the morning. He’d be lucky if anything besides a dingy twenty-four-hour cafe was open, much less a bookstore.    
He sighs and looks over at his discarded laptop on his desk. He boots it up to see if maybe he could at least check how early the library opened. He could try to sleep but his insomnia was eating away at him, trying to focus on anything else but work seemed harder and harder. Spencer had to get out of his apartment. He looks up the library hours as well as a few bookstores. Just trying to see how soon he could sit down and avoid the never-ending running of his brain. He’s surprised when he finds a bookstore that was advertising its hours as open. Surely that was wrong. He spots the phone number on the webpage, and he decides to call to double check.    
The line rings for roughly two seconds before it’s picked up, a melodic voice on the other line states, “Midnight Owl, this is Y/N how can I help you?” The cadence of the woman’s voice much too chipper for the middle of the night.    
Spencer’s shocked into silence for a moment before he responds, “I thought the hours posted were wrong...” He finds himself stating.   
“Nope!” She replies, unbothered by his blunt response. “We’re open 24/5, only closed on Fridays and Saturdays!” She tells him brightly, “You wouldn’t be the first to call thinking we posted our hours wrong though. More common than you think.”    
He coughs awkwardly and finds himself nodding even though she can’t see it. “Okay, great, thank you so much.”    
“Not a problem, swing by some time we have the best drinks crafted by yours truly!” She jokes with a soft laugh trailing her sentence. She drawls out the end of her words in a way that has them twisting together as sweet as the tea he’s almost positive she drinks.   
“Have a good night.” He states before hanging up the phone.    
He looks at the address listed and finds that it’s just up the street, barely a block away.    
Spencer eyes his crutches for a moment debating on whether he should go or not. His good leg shakes in anxious movements as he sits on his couch. What were the odds that there was a bookstore up his block that was open at odd hours that catered to him? He knew the odds; they were incredibly low . He shrugs to himself and hobbles to grab his crutches, he’ll check it out. Why the hell not? If it’s too good to be true he can add it to the list of places he’ll never visit again like that one coffee shop downtown that burns everything he’s ever ordered.    
He desperately needs to get out of his apartment.    
-   
Y/N’s night at the Midnight Owl was going slowly. You had a few regulars wander in, which you were happy about since the store had only officially been open for four months. There was a couple that sat on the loveseat in the cafe every Thursday night reading their books together and drinking the cafe’s famous homemade lavender lemonade. Not that you could brag about it, your co-owner makes pastries and premade drinks. All homemade family recipes. On the opposite side of the store was the guy who came in every other day to check for anything new. He grabs a coffee and roams the stacks for an hour. Sometimes he buys, sometimes he doesn’t. He comes in at the same time though, so you’re pretty sure he works a graveyard shift.    
There were a couple of students at a table in the cafe section clearly up studying and writing papers. The semester for school had only just started a month ago, but the influx of students coming and going was increasing by the day.    
You loved your little bookstore, and during the day it was popping. A rising trendy place for local university students. You preferred the quiet of the nights though. It gave you time to make orders for books, restock, and change out displays. It was methodical cleaning and sorting that kept you sane. Your daytime life was overly complicated and having your own corner of the world was nice. It felt like a safe bubble that didn’t necessarily feel like work.    
You’re in the middle of compiling a list of books to reorder that have already sold out when the front doorbell chimes telling her someone just entered. You are behind a stack finishing what you're writing on your notepad when you calls out, “Be right there!”    
You bound around the stack to the counter to meet the newcomer, “Welcome in! How can I help you?” you asked happily pushing your hair behind your ear nervously.    
You scan the guy from head to toe, he’s definitely new. He looks like a grad student, probably around your age. His mousy brown hair is tied back into a low ponytail and he’s in a well-worn Caltech shirt and sweatpants. The oddest thing about him is the crutches he’s sporting as he comes in. You send him a warm smile.   
Spencer looks at the woman standing at the counter and finds you’re not what he expected you to be. You look like the moon; you have features that are soft and delicate, and your eyes shine with the bright ambience of the bookstore. Spencer almost loses his train of thought as he takes in the bookstore worker’s features that just made you seem so inviting.    
It takes a second before he registers that you asked him a question. “Oh, yes,” he rushes out awkwardly. “Is the cafe still open?” He questions, tilting his head to the empty-looking bar on the other side.    
You nod happily, “It is! I’m the only one who works the night shift, so I run the register and the cafe. Would you like something?” you ask him, already walking toward the counter that holds the cabinet of pastries and coffee machines.    
“A latte would be great actually.” He says in a much clearer voice.    
“Can do.” You grin at him radiantly and it’s so infectious he finds himself returning one. You turn and almost have a skip to your step as you walk, far too awake for him to deem reasonable for two in the morning.    
Spencer watches her as he slowly moves forward on his crutches, she almost dances around the machines as she makes his latte. She’s humming to the music that he’s finally registered playing in the bookstore. She’s radiating a warmth that Spencer doesn’t get to see much day to day except for the one and only, Penelope Garcia. Garcia looked and acted like the sun, one giant ball of pink and blonde energy. He watches the worker move around her workstation making his latte and it’s seamless how she moves, it’s her second nature.  She’s just at ease here, which settles his uneasy nerves about trying a new place out in the middle of the night. He looks around and sees a few people mingling about.   
Spencer takes time to look around the store and notices how it feels much more lived in than any box stores he’s been to. The overhead lights aren’t fluorescent like a normal store but a few well-placed wooden chandeliers that are carved to look like vines. Every other light is a floor light or table lamp that has mismatched covers and stained glass. He turns to the large windows, and he guesses the store probably gets great sunshine when it’s daylight. The multiple house plants by the window and on the empty tables being a good indicator. The ambiance is so inviting, not to mention the amount of comfortable faux leather seating he sees.    
He could imagine spending a lot of time here, it was just so cozy. Spencer can’t imagine he would have missed this place opening but with all the cases they’ve been busy with, he actually isn’t surprised at all.    
He’s brought out of his thoughts by her placing the drink on the pickup bar, “So what ails you?” Your voice carries to him, and you tilt your head waiting patiently.   
“Excuse me?” He finds himself stuttering out.   
You shrug nonchalantly, “Well, it’s the middle of the night and I’ve never seen your face in here before.” You state the fact like it's so obvious.    
“So, what’s buggin’ you?” Your voice drawls out sweetly as you look at him expectantly.   
It’s almost like the lights in the cafe frame her from behind, bright and dazzling. She’s clearly personable and Spencer isn’t used to people with Y/N’s personality being overtly kind to him. He’ll see how long it takes her to dismiss him like most people do. It doesn’t annoy him like it used to, he expects it really. Especially when his own team and friends do it almost regularly.    
You are waiting patiently for his response with unwavering kind eyes.   
“Insomnia,” He settled on admitting to you, he gave you a tight lined frown. “I needed a new book; I’ve read through my catalog.”    
Your eyes light up, “That’s my specialty! I mean, I make a mean latte, but my favorite part of this place is the books.” you whispered conspiratorially.    
“So,” you come around from the back of the bar and put your hands on your hips, “What genre were you looking for? Or was it a specific book?” you ask him.    
“Fantasy, preferably. I’ve read all of Tolkien and Gaiman’s works.” He tells you.    
You nod in understanding your eyes giving a quick look of him from head to toe, “You look like a man who’s read The Hobbit and American Gods .” You said, almost more so to herself.    
Spencer gives you a quizzical look, unsure if he should be insulted or not. You read his face and your own cheeks flush with embarrassment. Your hands start moving exaggeratedly as your voice pitches, “Not in a bad way! I promise, I’m here for a well-read person! Not that you have to have read those two authors to be well read, I just-” You take a deep breath and stop yourself.    
“Sorry, I just mean, you look like you’ve probably read some of the most popular titles in that genre.” Your voice grows smaller, and your face is bright in a flush as you rush through your words, drawling them out in that voice that sounds like sugar. You bite the inside of your cheek forcing yourself to stop talking.    
Spencer chuckles and shakes his head, “I get it, you’re good.” He tells you reassuringly.    
You sigh in relief, pushing your hair out of your face nervously, “Sorry, I really didn’t mean anything by it. I just meant you probably want something different and not recommended every time you ask for fantasy.”    
Spencer just gives you a smile, “I appreciate it.” He shifts his weight on his crutches to awkwardly sip his latte.    
You usher him over to one of the comfortable chairs with a nice side table lamp that has beautiful green and red stained-glass roses on it.    
“Here sit, I’ll grab some recommendations, and you can let me know what you think.” You don’t even give him a chance to rebuttal before you’re off and disappear into the stacks.    
The silence that followed her absence was overwhelmingly loud, except for the soft music playing from the speakers. Spencer takes his time drinking his latte and it’s delicious. Better than the place the BAU grabs coffee from, and much better than whatever was in their coffee pot at the office.    
You pop back out from the stacks within ten minutes holding at least five book options for him to sort through.    
“These all have different sub-genres but are fantasy in nature. Let me know if any look good to you.” You hand them over to him happily. He notices you biting the inside of your cheek again, as you watch him look over the books.    
You’re rocking on your feet, as you watch Spencer thumb through the books, reading the summaries keeping his face neutral. You start picking at your nails trying not to seem like a dog waiting for its owner. You should busy yourself with something else besides trying to gauge Spencer’s reaction to the books, but you can’t help it.   
Spencer pauses on a book with a bright colorful cover that was in the middle of the stack. It’s the only one he pauses on and your face lights up.    
“I loved Howl’s Moving Castle !” Your voice pitches up in enthusiasm. You start talking with your hands again, “It’s fun, and the cast of characters who, in a magical world, feel so relatable. The two leads also have great dialogue! I was genuinely laughing out loud.” Your face splits into a grin as you explain the book to Spencer without spoiling anything.    
You are so filled with joy as you talk about the book, it doesn’t take him but a second of listening to you to know he’s sold. He’s reading this, your genuine joy selling him on it. He doesn’t have to look through the rest of the stack, though he’s sure you’ve likely read all the books you offered him.   
“I’ll take it.” He said, moving to stand up to purchase it at the counter.    
You move to stop him, “Don’t worry about it! You can pay on your way out. You look like you’ve been struggling with those crutches.” You tell him waving him back down to sit.    
“Just relax, drink and read. It’s what the Midnight Owl’s for.” You chirp happily shooting him a triumphant look as you move to walk back to the counter.    
You go back to working on creating an order for books back at the checkout counter. You have the work desktop open back to the list of books you were cross referencing for prices. You go back and forth from looking at your handwritten list to researching prices from different distributors.    
The couple who was there earlier finally get up, waving goodbye to Y/N.    
“Have a great night y’all! See you next week.” You tell them with your own wave that’s brief as you make the order.    
The only noise in the store is some shuffling and the music playing overhead and you humming along to it. It’s a mix CD you burned a few years back and most of the songs are still your favorite. You keep meaning to make a new one, but you just haven’t had time. Your eyes wander from your computer to check on your new customer reading in the corner. You don’t want to hover, but you try to gauge if he’ll be a regular or not. You hope so, he seemed nice enough.    
Spencer can feel her eyes on him occasionally, he can see her fidgeting behind the counter. Every other song he can spot her leaning out of the corner of his eye to look over to him. He tries to hide his grin; he knows that look well. She’s trying to see if he’s enjoying the book. Spencer tries to read at a normal pace, even though he can read twenty thousand words per minute, that defeats the purpose of him trying to get out of his apartment to just devour this book. Plus, he kind of enjoys watching the store clerk.   
She’s full of energy and he has no idea where it comes from, but it’s almost a nervous energy. She’s constantly moving, either fidgeting or walking through the stacks to check or tidy the books. She’s also passed in front of him a few times to check the cafe machines or even grab a pastry he’s sure has been there for too long, and she feels bad about selling it.    
Spencer stays there for a few hours; he really doesn’t notice how long until the door opens and the bell chimes again.    
“Morning!” The new woman cheers sleepily.    
You wave at her, “Morning Josie. There are still a few pastries left from yesterday, but I put them in the back fridge for you.”   
The new woman, Josie, waved back, “Thanks, I’m going to prep for today.”    
Spencer finally looks at the time and realizes it’s five in the morning, he sighs standing up. He grabs his crutches and pushes himself toward the counter to pay for his book. If he’s lucky he could get an hour or two of a nap before work.    
He gently slides the book over to you and your whole face brightens, “Have you liked it so far?” you asked him.    
Spencer grins “It’s charming. You were right about the cast; it’s a great blend of characters that shouldn’t fit as well as they do together.”    
You nod excitedly. “I don’t know if you’ve gotten to a certain part, but I won’t spoil it, I loved how they explain the magic that affects Sophie! It was a fun book.”   
Spencer hands over some cash to pay for his book. “I’ve liked it so far. I’ll have to ask for another recommendation.” He tells you.    
If you were a dog, your ears would be pointed up and tail wagging, you cannot contain your pure joy.    
“Absolutely! Anytime, it’s one of my favorite things.” You push your hair back and you look down at the table nervously pushing his book back toward him with his change.    
“I’m always happy to see a returning face.” You said looking up at him, your eyes sparkling. “I’m Y/N by the way, I don’t know if I introduced myself.”   
Spencer takes the book and his change; you smile brilliantly at him, and he feels a little enchanted by the bookstore clerk. He returns it. “Spencer. It was nice to meet you.”    
He gives you a small wave before walking out, crutches pushing him forward.    
The one about Halloween    
You have decided that you do not care if it’s only September, you are decorating for Halloween. Maybe it’s that you’re festive or maybe it’s from growing up in a southern community that went all out for decorations, but you are determined that the Midnight Owl will be the place to be for October. You’ve also planned a few events for the spooky month for all ages.    
There are a few reading hours planned for children during the day, costume contests, and some trick or treat candy lined up to buy. Your shopping list was filling up quickly. For the nighttime events you’ve gotten together with Josie to throw a movie night every Sunday night at eight in October. You’ve already planned a lineup of movies to play and popcorn to order. You still can’t decide on having two movies or not, a family friendly one first and then a scary one. She’ll figure it out.    
To say that you are bubbling with excitement is an understatement.    
You're in the middle of dragging out one of the boxes of decorations from the attic when the door chimes open.     
“Welcome in! Help yourself to shop or if you wait a few minutes, I can fix you a drink at the cafe!” You shout from behind the large box you’re carrying. It’s not heavy, filled mostly with paper and plastic decorations. The box itself is just quite large, and it blocks your view when you walk.   
“What are you doing?” A soft chuckle passes through, and you recognize it immediately. It’s your new favorite regular.    
You set the box down in a huff behind the counter and look at Spencer exasperatedly.   
“If you must know, I’m preparing for Halloween.” You said matter-of-factly.    
Spencer’s hazel eyes light up, the same way he gets when he’s about to tell you a long list of facts about something. You love it when he gets excited. It’s contagious.   
“Oh, please continue then. It’s never too early for Halloween.” He said happily.   
You let out a burst of laughter and it echoes in the room, “Thank you! Finally, someone who understands.” You tease him.   
Spencer’s been coming in almost every night since his first visit. It’s only been a month, but you love talking to Spencer. He’s full of endless information and he loves to read just as much, if not more, than you do.    
He has an unfair advantage though. He had admitted how quickly he could read to you in passing a few weeks ago and your jaw dropped. You didn’t believe him at first.    
-   
 “Okay, that’s the fifth book you’ve finished in like two days Spencer. Are you even actually reading them?” You had teased him, when he returned to the shelves looking through the selections.    
“Of course I do. I just happen to read twenty thousand words per minute.” He said easily running his fingers along the spines of the books as he pursues.    
You scoff, “Yea right.” you rolled your eyes. “Just say you skim through them.”   
Spencer shakes his head, “I’m serious, I have an eidetic memory too.” he said.    
You blinked at him a few times in disbelief before just bursting into a fit of small giggles.   
“Wow, I wish I could read that fast. I’d get through my TBR so much faster!” you said impressed.    
Spencer pauses looking at you, trying to assess if you're trying to make fun of him or not. Your face is split into a wide grin, and he realizes you are intrigued by this little tidbit. You didn't think it was weird, that he’s weird.    
Spencer felt his face flush a bit, and he just shrugged it off. “It’s not a big deal.”    
“No, it’s just a really cool fact about you.” You said, like it was obvious.    
Spencer mouth tighten into a fine line, and he shook his head, “That would be a first.” he had mumbled under his breath.    
You didn’t press him, but you did file away in the back of your mind his response for later. Clearly Spencer wasn’t used to someone reacting positively to this tidbit about him.    
-   
You look at Spencer as he stands there watching you. He’s in his work clothes, which you're used to by now, but it’s the opposite of what he wore when they first met. He’s in a purple button up shirt that he’s rolled his sleeves up to his elbows. His cardigan is hanging off his faded brown leather satchel sitting against his hip. He’s leaning on his crutches as she assesses him.    
“C’mon,” you said waving for him to follow. “Let’s make something fall flavored to get rolling with the season.” You suggest a small smile tugging at your lips.    
Spencer just nods and follows you toward the cafe section.    
“Are you a fan of pumpkin flavors or do you prefer other autumn flavors?” You ask him as you walk around the counter to the coffee machines.   
The pickup counter for the cafe doubles as a normal place to sit and Spencer grabs a stool to sit in, leaning his crutches against the counter.   
“I only like my drinks sweet. Flavor isn’t too important.”    
You hum in acknowledgement and get to work on making him a drink. “I’ll just surprise you then.”    
Spencer brings out a few books he’s reading and places them on the table. While you make his drink you ask, “What’s your favorite book to read to get into the spooky spirit?”    
He perks up, “There’s plenty of options, I think I prefer something classic like The Shinning or maybe even an old compilation of ghost stories. Those are always good.” he said passionately.    
“Ooh! I’m obsessed with the paranormal!” you gasp in excitement.   
Spencer feeds into the enthusiastic response, “Did you know there are a multitude of categories of the paranormal? Most people only associate it with ghosts or demons, but ufology and cryptozoology are also subcategories. Personally, as interesting as ghost or demon possession stories are, I’m far more fascinated by cryptozoology and the creatures that different areas of the world claim to see and state they have proof of.”    
Spencer realizes he’s rambling and tries to cut himself off, but your eyes are wide as you actively lean against the counter giving him your rapt attention.    
You notice his abrupt stop and you tilt your head, “Keep going, you have my full attention! I’m trying to get into the spooky spirit!” You drawl out, your rich accent seeping through.    
You turn to grab his drink and hand it to him. It's in a nice burnt orange colored mug, “It’s a maple chai latte. Felt like fall to me.” you said quietly, having a matching mug with him. You lean against the counter and bat your hand at his forearm.   
“C’mon tell me more!” you giggled.    
Spencer stared at you in awe for a moment, before he tried to hide his expression through drinking his latte.    
“Ghost hunting became popular in the early 2000s, but it’s been around since the 1920’s and even before then there were popular ghost stories told throughout history! Humans have always been interested in the afterlife which is why we’re probably so fascinated by looking for proof of the afterlife.”   
You nod and sips from your own mug, “Have you ever watched those ghost hunting shows before?” you asked curiously.    
Spencer shook his head no. “I don’t watch a lot of television.”    
You hum in thought, “Yeah, that checks out. Well, they’re super cheesy and trashy. Love them to be honest.”    
“Which one’s your favorite?” he asked, leaning closer against the bar.   
It felt like it was only the two of them in the bookstore. Inside their own bubble, the world moved slowly inside the confines of the Midnight Owl.    
“This is gonna sound so awful!” you laughed lightly shaking your head, “There’s a show called Ghost Adventures, and the main guy, Zak Bagans, he’s such a dick to the ghosts! He instigates all the time, and I mean, regardless of if ghosts are real, he goes in hot ! Not to mention he always throws his costar Aaron into the worst places! It’s just insane, absolute trash.” you shake your head in disbelief.    
“But you love it?” Spencer asked.    
You gave him a deadpan stare, “Oh absolutely, it’s the best kind of quality trash.”   
You burst into a fit of giggles and Spencer couldn’t help but find it contagious.    
“Aaaaaaanyway~” You drag out, moving to grab your box of decorations.    
“Wanna help me decide how to decorate?” you ask him, grabbing a pumpkin garland out of the bin and tossing it dramatically over your shoulders like a scarf.   
Spencer brushes his loose hair out of his face and nods. He may still be useless on crutches, but he could help... Kind of.    
You empty the containers of the bin on the counter where Spencer’s sitting and he quickly grabs his mug to lift it up to avoid being knocked over from the avalanche of orange and black. You smile at him apologetically before trying to dig out your favorite decorations.    
-   
Spencer’s face is twisted in a look of frustration as he sits in the corner reading. He came in a while ago and besides his drink, he hasn’t spoken much to you.    
Which isn’t a bad thing, tonight was one of the busier nights. It was mid-October, and the festivities had been nonstop. Tonight was vampire night, which upon entering the building Spencer was already grimacing. There was a special drink deal on the board hanging above the cafe for anyone buying a vampire related book. Twilight , Dracula , Carmilla , Interview with a Vampire, just pick a title it was an option with its own fun themed cafe drink that was absolutely red.   
 It wasn’t like you knew he had just finished working on a case that involved vampirism, but the odds weren’t in his favor for finding an escape from the most recent case. Halloween season had its ups and downs he supposed.   
There was no way of explaining his slightly irritable mood. Spencer hadn’t mentioned his work to you. You never asked, and he didn’t feel like explaining that he spent most of his waking hours profiling serial killers. In the past it hasn’t made the best openers in conversation. It’s also nice to have this small corner of his life not be coated with unsubs, victims, and death. It’s just his favorite bookstore.   
Spencer looked up to see you making more drinks, the cafe was popular tonight. Your chatting up another woman who’s laughing at the joke you told her. The other woman is holding a book that Spencer is positive is a vampire novel.    
“And I have one raspberry mocha for a Carmilla lover!” your voice rang out and you handed over the drink to the customer.    
“Come back Sunday for our movie night, we’re playing Beetlejuice !” you said and waved goodbye to the customer.    
For eleven o'clock at night the shop was busy. Busting out drink after drink and ringing up books at the cafe register. It was your idea to do a deal with a themed book and drink combo, but you didn’t expect to still be busy into the night. You hadn’t even had a break in customers to say hello to your regulars.    
For business, this was great, for your own mental health, you were struggling. You just needed it to slow down enough to catch your breath. You should have scheduled someone else on shift with you, but you weren’t about to call for help now. It was your mistake, and you'll live with it. You made a note to make sure someone is on shift with you tomorrow night for a different themed deal.    
After another round of five more customers there is finally a break. You sighed leaning against the counter and took a grounding breath. You don’t move for a minute, just catch your breath before you look up and catch Spencer from his chair looking at you. You shot him a shaky smile that is supposed to be reassuring but actually looks like you’re about to cry. Spencer’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise and he decides to get up and come over. The cafe was still bustling but no one was sitting at the counter. Spencer shoves his book into his bag, grabs his crutches and hobbles to the counter.    
“Busy night?” he asked, already knowing the answer but trying to see how you were doing.    
Your eyes look up into his hazel ones and you look worn. “In my head, the whole vampire boom and Halloween themed event seemed like a good idea. For profit, absolutely. For my sanity? I never wanna see another Twilight shirt or raspberry flavored item for a while.” you said in a groan placing your head against the counter.    
“What is Twilight ?” Spencer asked.    
He doesn’t know anything except that it has something to do with vampires and its popular enough that the victims of the latest case were also obsessed with it. He knows it’s a book, but besides that, he has no clue.    
You slowly move to look up and blink at him for a moment, trying to deduce if he’s being serious or not. “Very funny Spencer, I know you’re not asking what the pop culture phenomenon Twilight franchise is.” you replied with a laugh.   
After a moment of looking at Spencer’s confused face you realize he was in fact, unaware. Your eyes widen.    
“Wait, wait, wait, you seriously don’t know? I mean it’s like everywhere. The second movie is coming out in less than a month. I don’t think I’ve sold so many copies of a book in my life. I can’t keep New Moon on the shelves.” you said almost exasperatedly, but the smile on your face gave it away. If Spencer didn’t know any better, he’d think you were getting a kick out of it. He knows by now you won’t make fun of him; you're elated for a completely different reason.   
“I just know it’s popular and about vampires.” He replied with a shrug.    
“Oh my god, I get to explain Twilight to you.” your face splits into a massive grin, your energy returning quickly.    
Spencer quirks an eyebrow, “I thought you were over hearing Twilight ?”    
“No, no, no, no! This is totally different!” you're almost vibrating with excitement. “I’ve read all the books, I’m gonna let you borrow my copy next time you’re in! Actually, I’ll give you the first two since you read so fast!” her words are running together in a run on sentence she’s talking too fast. Your accent came through stronger than ever with your eagerness.    
He doesn’t have it in him to turn you down, you're just so thrilled. Spencer just finds himself too caught up in your joy to tell you he had no interest in the book series. He finds himself agreeing to borrow your copies.    
“I can buy them if you need me too. I don’t want to take your copies unless, you’re sure.” He offers.   
You shake your head, “I can’t keep them on the shelves long enough for you to buy them. Just go ahead and take my copies.” You move to make Spencer a drink that isn’t one of the red blood themed drinks on the menu. “It’s not a big deal. I do have a lot of sticky notes in there though, my friends and I read it for a book club night.”    
He sits up a little straighter, suddenly becoming more interested in reading these books. Not because of their pop culture relevance but because he could read your commentary. There was something special about that, sharing a book with annotations.   
“I’ll bring one too.” He finds himself offering before he can think.    
Your face glows as you hand him a chai latte. “I’d love that! It’ll take me a bit longer to read than you will.” you joked lightly.   
“It’ll be worth it; I haven’t had someone to talk to about books since my mom.” He said looking down at his drink, his eyes growing distant for a split second.   
You open your mouth to ask but quickly shut it, biting the inside of your cheek to stop. You might be nosy, but you knew when to not pry. It was how Spencer seemed to be somewhere else in his mind, if only for a moment. It was enough to know that you had no business asking him to open a can of worms he maybe didn’t want to. Instead, you turn around to grab a set of fake vampire teeth to put in your mouth. They were small and awkward and not cute by any means, but if you could get him to smile, that was all you needed.    
You patiently wait for Spencer to look back up at as you rest your head in your palm and keep your face neutral. The fake teeth are making your mouth uncomfortable, but you’ll survive.    
When Spencer does look up and sees you dramatically batting your eyes at him and grinning madly with children’s plastic vampire teeth, he can’t control the bubbling laughter that takes over him. His shoulders shake with the full body movement, and he shakes his head in disbelief.   
“Where did you get those?” he asked through his fit.    
You turn to spit them out into the trash, your mouth disgustingly filled with drool from the uncomfortable teeth. You cover your mouth and grab your own drink to flush out your mouth.    
“They were a gimmick for the themed drinks tonight.” you finally replied. “Good for a quick joke not for actually wearing.” you said groaning.   
“Pretty sure they are made for children’s mouths.” Spencer teased.   
You shrug and sigh, “Well, being a vampire for Halloween is off the list of options this year. I don’t want to wear those for a whole night.”   
“Probably better off.” He said trying to not immediately focus on Dante and his manager coercing a mentally ill young woman into committing vampire ritual like murders.   
“Yeah, the whole thing with that celebrity kinda left a sour taste in my mouth.” you mentioned grimacing.    
“Dante?” Spencer asked for clarification.   
“Yeah, it was all over the tabloids,” you pointed to the magazine stand by the main register. “Got them in this morning.”    
Spencer tries to not make a face as he sees them, “You read that?”    
You let out a loud snort of a laugh. “No, no, no, oh god!” you stand up a little straighter and push your hair back. “I don’t trust a TMZ article as far as I can throw it, but those murders are real. Making it look like vampire bites...” you shudder, “that just skeeves me out.”    
Spencer drinks from his mug but nods his head in agreement. He didn’t peg you to believe paparazzi reports. The magazine articles would be wrong anyway; they didn’t make the arrest until that afternoon. It was refreshing to see someone not believe everything they read.    
“If vampires are off your list, what other costumes are you thinking about?” he asked, trying to change the subject.    
“No idea.” you groan out in irritation. “I usually do group costumes with my friends but, kind of hard when they live 600 miles away.”    
“South?” he asked.    
You snorted with a roll of your eyes, “Aw geez what gave it away?” you tease with an exaggerated drawl, making your accent thicker than normal.    
Spencer shakes his head in amusement. “Very funny. Why move here?”    
You tense up, avoiding his doe eyes. You look down biting your lip nervously. “It’s uh, a long story.” you said quietly.    
Your body almost looks like it’s trying to shrink in on itself. Spencer doesn’t need to be a profiler to understand your body language. Whatever it is, you’re not ready to share it.    
Instead, he tries to be reassuring that he’s not prying for information.    
“I’m a transplant too. I grew up in Las Vegas.”    
Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, “I’ve never been, is it really just the strip filled with casinos or are there nice pockets of peace and no tourists?” you asked.   
You sigh, “It is a lot of tourists. There’s plenty of local places, ones that are only there if you’ve grown up knowing how to get to them.” he told you in a quiet voice, almost conspiratorially.    
Your mouth splits into a smile that reaches your eyes, “So you’ll be my tour guide, right?”   
Spencer’s face heats up from the suggestion and your giggles fill the room.    
“I’m just teasing you,” you pat his arm reassuringly before going to grab a pastry from the front display.    
“Come on and split this last cookie with me, I know I'm not going to sell it.” you said grabbing a chocolate chip cookie and warming it up before cutting it in half.    
Spencer’s face is still tinted pink but the soft cookie and the way it melts when he bites into it and seeing you look happier than earlier, is enough for him. A small corner of peace in the world inside the Midnight Owl.   
The one after Haley’s funeral    
You’re sitting at the checkout counter reading the book Spencer most recently traded with you. It’s one of the Sherlock Homles books, which you had admittedly never read before. You've watched plenty of films and shows but reading it never really crossed your mind.    
You joked about making Spencer watch The Great Mouse Detective when you finished so you could explain your first introduction to Sherlock Holmes. He had no idea what you were talking about, which you found charming in its own way. You loved introducing Spencer to the pop culture media that just filled your brain. Even if it was trashy. You had promised him The Great Mouse Detective was anything but trash. A childhood classic for sure.    
You take your time reading the books Spencer lent. He started leaving small post-it notes for you in them with commentary and questions. It was like you two had your own language, and it was books. Even if he let you borrow a genre you had no interest in, you suddenly were invested. It was a way to get to know him, and in turn he took your books happily. Your annotations were way more scattered brained and filled with tiny commentary to yourself.    
You saw Spencer reading one of the books you let him borrow and he laughed, loudly, in the middle of the store. You both flushed in embarrassment. It was a busy night, filled with university students studying late at night, so it was mostly silent besides the music that was playing through the speakers. You knew you had written something insulting about one of the characters in that sticky note. You were creative with your insults, and you had completely forgotten to take that out before giving it to him. Spencer teased you about your comments on Gale from The Hunger Games for the rest of that night.    
You’re in the middle of The Hounds of Baskerville when the door opens. You look up to greet them but your face falls when you see Spencer, he looks terrible. You slowly close the book and move to walk toward him.   
His eyes were hollow and the normal dark circles under his eyes seemed impossibly darker than usual. Spencer just seemed sad and defeated. You hadn’t seen this side of him and all you wanted to do was press your thumb to his forehead and smooth out the furrow of his brow. To get him to relax, if only for a moment.   
“Hey honey, what’s wrong?” you asked gently walking toward him. You reach out to rub his arms affectionately, “What happened?”    
Your voice is soft and sweet, the way you said honey with your southern drawl feels like a hug. Spencer just needed a minute. One second of peace. The image of Haley’s body unmoving with blood still fresh behind his eyes.    
“It’s been a long week.” His voice comes out a little rough. He’s haggard from the flight from Nashville and he really didn’t want to go home.    
The only comforting place he could think of immediately was the Midnight Owl, of you. Your warm voice and comforting drinks were the only things he could stand to be around.    
Your face softens at his words, and you tilt your head, “Do you need a hug?” you asked softly.    
There’s a shaky sigh that escapes Spencer’s mouth and he just nods his head, unable to form the words.    
You pull him into your embrace gently, your arms wrapped around his shoulders tightly. You rub soothing circles into his back and Spencer holds onto your waist. Your body radiates heat and it's comforting as he shoves his face into your shoulder. You smell like vanilla, cloves, and parchment paper and his whole body relaxes into you. You hold onto him until Spencer pulls away, not wanting him to feel like he was a burden. The store was empty anyway, it's been a slow night.   
He takes a deep breath before peeling himself off. He moves his hands to hold your arms so he’s supporting himself. Your eyes soften as you look him over, her hand coming up to cup his face.    
“You don’t have to talk about if you don’t want to, but I’ve been told I’m a great listener.” You whisper softly.    
Spencer relaxes against your touch and doesn’t say much, just hums in response. He eventually finds his words, “My friends wife died recently, and it just, it was a shock.”    
He doesn’t want to get into how Haley died. That his job makes him and his coworkers targets. The people they love. George Foyet died at Hotch’s hands for killing Haley and attempting to kill Jack. Spencer watched Hotch’s face crumble, fall and lose what he loved the most. He knew Hotch didn’t want to divorce Haley, he loved her and his son with his whole heart.    
That love had cost him Haley’s life.   
“Oh hun,” your voice brings him back, “I’m so sorry.”    
He shakes his head, “I’ll be fine. I’m just processing it.”    
“You don’t have to justify yourself to me, you’re allowed to process and grieve, especially if you knew her.” you tell him firmly. “C’mon, go sit down and I’m gonna make a delicious warm drink and we can just relax alright?”    
Spencer gives a tiny, tight smile and lets you grab his hand to pull him to one of the nicer chairs. He sets his cane against the arm rest and is floored by how easy everything is with you.  
You don’t push or pry for information, let him ramble, and Spencer doesn’t think he’s had a real friend outside of the BAU in a long time, much less someone his age. As much as he loves his team, there are times where they don’t understand him. It’s a lot easier to be himself with you. Maybe it’s because you don’t know what he’s doing most of his days, and he could argue with himself that you don’t know him. Almost 90% of his life is the BAU, and who is he if he isn’t Dr. Spencer Reid, FBI agent in the Behavioral Analyst Unit? A small part of him hopes he could be the person he becomes when he enters the Midnight Owl.    
He’s too lost in his thoughts to notice you walking over with two steaming mugs.    
“Here, it’s just tea but I think you need a relaxing drink. No caffeine.” you said with a sweet tone looking him over.    
You sit on the arm rest of the chair cradling your own mug. “Can I try something?” you ask him.    
Spencer drinks from his mug, but he mutters an agreement under his breath.    
“Lean back fully in the chair.” you instructed.   
He does as he’s told, he lowers his hands to his lap, mug still warmly pressed into his hands. Spencer isn’t sure what you’re trying to do until your hands are running through his hair, feather light. You’re not massaging his scalp, just the lightest of touches as you card your fingers through his long hair. Spencer’s eyes close and he almost moans from how the tension leaves his body immediately.    
You let out a tiny snort but continue the motions.    
“My momma used to do this when I was little.” you whisper to him, keeping a low voice.   
“I would be asleep in an instant.” you emphasized with a quiet snap of your fingers.   
Spencer’s eyes flutter open to look up at you, his big doe eyes looking up to see your soft features be highlighted in the warm glow of the lamps. You look down at him and tilt your head.    
“I might pass out like this.” he murmured in a low voice.   
“You can if you want. Promise I won’t let anyone bother you... not that anyone’s coming in anytime soon.” You drawl out looking around at the empty shop.    
“Just a quick nap, twenty minutes.” he told you, voice already fading and his eyes growing heavy.    
You don’t respond to him, just continue stroking his hair until he falls asleep. He felt the warm mug leave his hands and he heard ceramic clank onto the wooded side table next to him.   
You watch Spencer sleep, giving him much longer than twenty minutes. His dark circles told enough; he needed this nap more than he was letting on. It takes less than five minutes for Spencer to pass out. His body relaxed into the chair with all tension leaving his body. You slow down your movements until you feel safe enough to stop. His small snore a sign he was asleep.    
You moved to stand and went back to your duties, which wasn’t anything more than inventory tonight. Mondays were always slow.   
You moved about the bookshop, filing away books, crossing off things on your checklist, and beside the few customers that came in for less than twenty minutes each, the night was quiet. Enough so that you let Spencer sleep much longer than twenty minutes.    
Spencer sleeps peacefully for most of the night. You check on him occasionally, and besides the few snores, he’s sound asleep.    
Around four in the morning he stirs awake, blinking blearily and looks around the store. You hear him and poke your head out from behind a shelf.    
“Good morning sunshine!” you teased in a chipper tone.    
Spencer looks at you confused before looking down at his watch. “Why didn’t you wake me up?” he asked, tone not accusing, just confused.    
You shrug and make your way over to him, “You looked like you needed the sleep.”    
You gently reach your hand up to smooth the furrow of his brow. “You’ll die young from all that stress you’re carrying on your shoulders.” You tell him softly. The way you’re gently touching his forehead is like you’re trying to erase the stress and pressure.    
Spencer sighs into the light touch, “For sleeping on a chair, it was pretty peaceful.” he murmurs.    
You snort in amusement. “Well, at least I know they’re comfy.”    
“I sleep on planes frequently, so this is much better.” he said.   
“Travel a lot for work?” you asked.   
Spencer just nods. Not wanting to explore too deep into his job. The job that was leaving him sleepless most nights.   
“Do you feel any better?” you ask quietly.    
He nods solemnly. “Better than when I arrived.” he said with a shrug.    
You frown but don’t press, you push his hair back again giving him a reassuring smile.    
“I’m a good listener if you ever need to talk. Promise.” You hold out your pinky finger in the childish gesture of a pinky promise.    
Spencer finds himself smiling, finding it charming. Regardless of his problem with germs, it doesn’t feel so intense with you. You’re not a stranger anymore. He hooks his pinky with yours.    
“Not now.” He whispers. “But someday...”   
“Someday.” you reaffirm.   
The one about family    
Spencer’s surprised to see that you’re not working one random night in November. He knows that, of course, You can’t possibly be working every single night he comes in. It just throws him off when he doesn’t see you immediately. The sunshine woman behind the bar making him a new sickly-sweet coffee to try. You’ve only ever missed one day max two, so he doesn’t think much of it. Just a blip on his night.   
One night without you suddenly turns into half a week. Every day Spencer walks in and it’s not your bright bubbly voice greeting him. It’s one of the handful of people who work the late-night shift. They aren’t strangers, Spencer’s ran into a couple of them occasionally. So, when Spencer comes into the bookstore to see, yet again, Robert, manning the front desk lazily flipping through a magazine, his mild frustration turns to worry. You've been gone for four days and none of your coworkers seem to know why.   
What if you’re sick? What if something happened to you? Did you take a vacation? What if you’re in danger?    
The thoughts consume Spencer so much he almost calls Garcia to track you down. Or at least give him your address to check on you. He pulls himself together and realizes that it would be a bad idea and an invasion of your privacy. He’ll just have to wait it out.   
Spencer does wait, mostly because he’s forced too. The BAU never truly stops working.   
When he finally sees you again it’s near the tail end of November and way too close to Thanksgiving for his liking. He feels like you've been gone for ages, but it’s only been two weeks. The door chimes behind him as he walks in, he’s expecting to see your eyes light up with a smile on your flushed pink cheeks. The way you’ve always greeted him.    
Instead, he sees a side of you that he’s not used to at all. You look tired, exhausted. The dark circles under your eyes could compete against his natural ones. You’re wearing glasses which he’s never seen on you before. Her hair is haphazardly tied up, and You're in a large well-worn sweater that reads, ‘Read Banned Books’. He doesn’t think you've slept much, if at all, since he last saw you.    
You look like a zombie, barely functioning.   
You don’t even register Spencer enter; you're standing at the checkout counter finishing a transaction with a customer. You're swaying on your feet the whole time.    
Spencer lets you finish the interaction before coming over to the counter, concern clear on his face.   
“Y/N?” He says your name softly as he approaches.    
Your eyes fly up to him and widen a little in surprise, your body reacts with a small flinch. “Oh god Spencer!” You give a soft laugh, your hand coming up to clutch your chest, “You scared me! I didn’t hear you come in.” you try to calm yourself down.   
Your smile doesn’t reach your eyes and Spencer can tell. It doesn’t take a profiler to see you’re not yourself. Her eyes are only half open, your hands shaking from what he can only assume is the obscene amount of caffeine you probably have in your system. Everything just seems muted, not the bright colors he used to see you framed in.   
“Are you feeling okay? You’ve been gone for a while.” he prompts, trying to get something out of you. A clue to what might have happened. Anything.   
You shake your head, “I’m fine, everything’s fine.” You said it a little too quickly.    
Spencer doesn’t buy it, but he’s kept enough secrets to himself to know he probably shouldn’t go looking into friends’ private lives. Some things he knows he’d rather keep to himself... but seeing you like this, he wants to help.    
You avoid his eyes and start to play with your hands on the counter. “I-” you open your mouth but promptly shut it again. You bite your cheek with a frown plastered on your face.    
“Sorry, it’s nothing. It doesn’t matter.” you said quickly before turning to grab some books from behind the desk to busy yourself with.    
You don't want to talk about or think about it. It’s been a long two weeks, and you just need some normalcy. Something that you know you can do and enjoy.    
You feel Spencer’s eyes burning into you. You try to keep your usual high energy, you truly do. Everything has been so rough this month; you just need a break. The bookstore was your one solace. The Midnight Owl wasn’t just a job, it was your home. Your safe haven.   
You didn’t want to bring your real life here, not when sometimes your only highlight is seeing Spencer and sharing books back and forth. If he starts asking about your life outside the four walls of your shop, you don’t know if you can hold yourself together. Not today.    
“Y/N,” he opens his mouth trying to get your attention again.    
“Really Spencer, it’s fine, I’m fine!” you tell him, a short tone to your voice.    
You spin on your heels to walk somewhere, anywhere, else. “You know I have your book actually, let me return it. I left some notes in there.” You make it five or six steps before you falter and sways again. Spencer reaches out to grab and steady you.  
“Forget the book, you don’t look fine.” He makes you face him. “You look exhausted.” He chastises you.    
You deflate immediately and let Spencer guide you to a chair. He gently sets you down and he pries the book out of your hand and places it on the side table.    
“Sorry, you don’t have to take care of me.” you murmur feebly swatting him away. “I just...” You take a deep breath. “I had to take dad to the hospital on Tuesday and it’s just been downhill all week...” you admit timidly. You pushed your glasses up to your hairline and pressed the heels of your palm to your eyes.    
“I haven’t gotten much sleep.” you admit.    
“You’ve run yourself ragged.” Spencer lowers himself to be eye level with you. “Is he home now?” he asks gently.   
“No, they’re keeping him one more night.” you said with a heavy sigh.    
Your arms fell in between your knees, and you lean your head back exhausted. “It’s just been hard this past year...” your voice is small and lingers with sadness.    
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked hesitantly.    
Spencer maybe doesn’t like talking about his hardships, but he’ll listen to yours if you let him. He wants to desperately ease your mind, see you smile.    
You look up at him, eyes wide as you assess him. “I don’t want to put my problems on you Spencer.” you give a tight smile. “I’ll figure it out.”   
Spencer reaches out to put a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “Talking about it doesn’t mean that you’re inconveniencing me. I'm just worried.”   
You sigh, already feeling him chip away at you. You didn’t stand a chance against his big doe eyes looking at you like you were fragile.    
You take a deep breath before answering him, “My dad has ALS, he was diagnosed a few years ago... I’ve been taking care of him.” you admit.    
“Where we were, the doctors just weren’t cutting it. So, I did some research and of course there were stellar doctors in DC... plus my baby sister came here for university so I just thought... maybe it would be easier. On all of us.” The tone of your voice gives your worry away.    
“Anyway, he just, he had an accident and fell down the other day. His legs are finally giving out and he’s being so stubborn about needing a wheelchair.” Your voice shakes and you close your eyes.    
“It’s been a long week.” you finally admit looking up at Spencer with watery eyes.    
Spencer understands. He’s spent most of his life taking care of his mom because of her own illness. While your dad is suffering from something different, he understands. Probably more than you realize.    
“I get it, I do.” he said. You go to retort, but he cuts you off. “I took care of my mom for a long time. She...” He pauses looking at you, debating for a moment on if he should tell you.    
“My mom has schizophrenia, and I committed her when I was eighteen.” he tells you with a tight frown.   
“It’s hard to take care of your parents, especially when it’s their job to take care of us.” He tells you sincerely.   
You have tears pricking your eyes, “Oh Spencer, I’m so sorry.”   
He shakes his head, “I’m telling you this because I understand. I promise I do, it’s not easy.”    
You take a shaky breath; your heart feels like it’s a thousand pounds. “Does it ever get easier?” you ask softly.    
Spencer squeezes your hand, “No, it doesn’t. There are happy moments though. Moments where you know you’re doing the right thing, even if it’s difficult.”    
You sniffle and wipes your face, “Thanks, I uh, I needed that.” you said with a small smile.    
-   
It’s getting closer to Christmas. The bookstore is decorated and busier than ever. There’s a handful of special events but between people coming in to buy presents and university students staying all night to study for finals, you have your hands full.    
There’s a second staff member working nights with you this month until the holiday break starts for the store. You and Josie were adamant about closing the bookstore between Christmas Eve and New Years. If someone needed a book that badly they could go to a big box store.    
What you really don’t need right now is your baby sister coming to your place of work and harassing you about Christmas and your dad.    
“Bridget, I don’t have time to discuss this with you right now!” you hiss out at your younger sister. “You didn’t spend Thanksgiving with us and daddy really wants you to come home just for Christmas.” you chastised your sister with a frown.    
You have a pause in customers for the moment, but you know that the large study group is coming in half an hour like they have been for the past week and half.    
“That’s not fair Magpie!” your sister groans in frustration using your nickname to try and be sweet. “I made these plans months ago; Mark really wants me to spend Christmas with his family.”  
You cross your arms and look at your sister sadly. “Birdie, we don’t know how much time we get with dad-” you start but is cut off.    
Bridget’s face scrunches in disgust at her sister’s words and huffs exaggeratedly. “Good god Y/N! He’s not gonna die over the holidays, stop fucking guilt trippin’ me over every decision because it doesn’t revolve around dad!”    
Bridget’s annoyed and you can tell, she always tries to skirt around her problems when she’s frustrated. She thinks you’re trying to back her into a corner.    
“Birdie-”    
“It’s Bri. I go by Bri here.” Her sister crosses her arms and looks at you in annoyance.    
“Look, I know dad’s sick, I’m not stupid.”    
“I didn’t say you were Bridget.” you said defensively.   
She rolled her eyes, “I didn’t decide to pack everything up and move dad out to DC. Just because you’re closer doesn’t mean I’m going to stop living my life to take care of daddy.”    
You bite your tongue. Trying to not fight with your sister, but your irritation rises in your throat. Burning words of resentment linger in your mind.    
“Fine. Would you please just call him on Christmas and please come by after the New Year. He really misses you.” You try to plead with your sister.    
Bridget just waves goodbye as she walks out the door, “Will do. See you next year Magpie.” she almost ran out the door.    
You deflate, your shoulders dropping. You almost don’t hear Spencer walking up next to you holding a gift bag in his hands.    
“I didn’t know your sister visited you.” he said.    
You look up at him and smile at your favorite regular. Your friend. You think they’re allowed to call each other friends now. He already saw you cry and that was a big step.    
You shake your head, “Yeah, we’re not as close as we used to be.” you mumble under your breath.    
Spencer nods his head. He never had any siblings, but he can read your face well enough to know you’re not thrilled.  
“Still close enough for nicknames, Magpie?” he asked, biting back a smile.  
“Childhood nicknames, Birdie and Magpie. Cause we were birds of a feather.” You said looking down at your hands sadly.  
“It’s fine.” you shrug it off and give a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes. You lean against the counter. “What’s that you got there?” you asked, changing the subject.    
You’re pointing to the gift bag in his hands. You tilt your head curiously.    
“Oh, this is,” he flushes for a split second rushing his words out. “This is for you. I know you’re closing for the holiday soon and I don’t know if I’ll have a last-minute work call or not so., I brought your Christmas present.” He fumbled through his words quickly, but he held out the small bag.   
You light up immediately. Your eyes shimmer with excitement. “Aww, Spencer! This is so kind thank you!”    
You bend down below the counter and grabs your own item, “I actually have your present too.” you said shyly, handing him a wrapped package.    
Spencer is quiet as he gently takes the gift from you, a tiny smile on his face. He brushes his hair back out of his face as he looks at you softly.    
“This is so kind thank you.”    
Giddy giggles consume you, and you hold the gift bag. “Should we open them together or do you want to wait until Christmas?” you asked.    
Spencer shakes his head, “No no, you can open it now.” He reassures you.    
You smile, biting the inside of your cheek and open your present. Under the tissue paper is a sweater that’s twice your size and it’s the softest thing you’ve ever felt. You pull it out and it’s a purple crocheted sweater with a beautiful sun right in the middle. It reminds you of one of the tapestries from the late nineties that would have been in Practical Magic or something like that. ��  
“Oh Spencer, this is perfect.” you say quietly holding it tightly to your chest. “Thank you so much, I love it.”    
You pull off your cardigan and immediately shove the sweater on. You nestle yourself inside it and grins widely, “It matches your scarf!”    
Spencer just takes in your joy and how you light up, and he’s happy he could make you feel better.    
“Well go on open yours!” you said excitedly pushing your wrapped package toward him.   
Spencer gently peels back the wrapping paper and uncovers a white box; he opens the box to find a ceramic mug. It's custom made, with some uneven texture. It’s glazed a speckled purple and wrapped around the bottom is a quote, “Some books are so familiar that reading them is being home again.” -L.M. Alcott    
Spencer is quietly inspecting it, and you start explaining. You push your hair behind your ear, “I uh, I took a pottery class in my free time this past year. Since you’re here so much I thought you would like your own mug.” you said hesitantly.    
Spencer’s eyes widen, “You, you made this? For me?” he asked in surprise.    
You nod, looking down at the counter nervously.    
Spencer makes his way around the counter and pulls you into a tight hug. “This is the best gift anyone's ever gotten me.” he whispers to you.    
You return the hug holding Spencer tightly. You press your face into his shoulder, and you feel infinitely better than how your night started.   
When they pull apart you play with the edge of the new sweaters' sleeves, a small blush on your face. “Do you go visit your mama for holidays?” you asked him.    
Spencer shakes his head, “Not all the time. My job doesn’t usually care if it’s a holiday or not.” he tells you.    
You nod, “Well, I hope you get to this year Spencer. I’m sure she’d love to see you.”    
He takes a shaky breath and nods in agreement. “Yeah, I’ll try to see her soon.”    
You nudge him lightly, trying to keep the tone light, “Want a fresh drink in your new mug?” you tease.   
Spencer chuckles but nods his head. “I’d love that.”    
“We’re about to test run if I’m actually good at pottery. So, fingers crossed it doesn’t leak.” you joke moving to the cafe counter at the back of the store.   
Spencer watches you walk away, with a skip in your step like the first night he came to the Midnight Owl. The way you easily glide through the crowd and chatter with customers and giggling.    
You shine bright like a star, like the sun.  
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joaniscruzing · 11 hours ago
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reuniting with jinx <3
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everyone... that was quite the rollercoaster. but, i choose to believe that jinx is alive. i'm not ready to let go of arcane for a good while, and I'll do my best to upload fics more often, especially with the holiday breaks coming up too, so reel in whatever arcane requests you have! i write for vi, caitlyn, and jinx. i do take smut requests for these characters too if you guys would like to request some...
obviously though, jinx wouldn't leave without finding her amazing gf though... right??
summary: jinx surprises you while you're grieving, and you both escape and go elsewhere.
warnings: angst at the beginning, season 2 act 3 spoilers, kissing, emotional, lots and lots of fluff, I PROMISED A HAPPY ENDING AND DELIVERED
you couldn't believe it. your whole body crumbled to the ground as vi told you the devastating news.
"I'll tell you one thing," vi tried to quip, a small smile on her face, "she went out with a bang."
vi explained that she heard an explosion sound when jinx fell down the vent, and how she guessed she had set off one more bomb. you take vi close to you, hugging her tightly.
"she really did love you, you know." vi admitted, "i think she's just had a lot come her way. and i can't say I'm the most innocent in that realm myself."
you left vi to continue staring at the fireplace, about to leave and go to jinx's workshop, hoping to take a few things to remember her by. you see caitlyn looking at the vent diagram, studying it closely. how could she possibly studying the place where your beloved girlfriend died? you knew that caitlyn had grown to not hate jinx anymore, so you decided to just leave it at that.
after leaving the kiramann mansion, you traversed back to zaun, thoughts racing through your head. had you not done enough? loved her enough? given her a reason to live? you wanted to scream as loudly as you could, and let whatever you were feeling out.
you finally made it to where jinx had her things, and you took a deep breath before entering. this was it.
the once lit-up place was darker and worn-out in her eyes. the once neon, bright-colored place seemed to be dark and empty now. like you without jinx. a tear rolled down your face as you picked up small tools and things, even parts of a flower she was making for you out of scraps. you sat on the floor, looking up at the ceiling, trying to make sense in your head of what you should do next.
"did you really think i was gone, hun?" jinx questions, right behind you. your entire body leaps at the sound of her voice. it can't be.
"jinx?" you ask, shooting your head up and turning around.
"did you really think i was gonna die that easily? now stop moping. we have to get on the hot air balloon."
shocked, you hug jinx quickly before shoving one thing you collected in your pocket. you both start running. hand in hand, you make a beeline in order to get on the next hot air balloon.
"you know what i realized? things aren't so great here, so why don't i just go somewhere else to do my thing? but, i knew i couldn't leave without you." jinx explains while running.
"how did you even get out?" is the only thing you manage to say.
"my shimmer, silly! i got the hell out and escaped through the air vents."
"and how did you get back to zaun?"
"simple hacking and tweaking of the hexgates. nothing special."
you both finally make it onto the airship, jinx holding your hand as you get on so you don't fall. she closes the door behind you.
"so. this is it. any last wishes before we leave forever?"
"my biggest one has been granted," you answer before pulling in jinx for a sweet kiss. you had missed her, as you hadn't seen her for a week or two with everything going on. jinx pulls away, explaining that you two had to go.
"you know, i've always wanted to drive one of these," jinx admits, steering the ship, "i have since i was very young." you notice a new sense of peace in her eyes as she drives the ship. she doesn't seem so... tortured anymore. in fact, she seems free of any past issues.
her newly cut hair blows in the wind, as you go up behind her and hug her waist, your head resting on her shoulder. no matter what the future held, you knew you were going to be happy. as long as jinx was there, you would be at peace.
"i love you," jinx says softly, taking one hand off the wheel to rest on top of yours.
"i love you too."
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luthordamnvers · 2 days ago
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Outgrowing Supergirl
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A/N: The finale I deserved, tbh (Also on AO3)
Cat's voice kept repeating in Kara's head since Alex and Kelly's wedding.
'Ker-rah, you need to stop making excuses, and you need to decide what your course will be. Now, there is important work to be done, and I hope you'll join me. But more than that, I hope that you will choose to become your full self, because that would really be something to see. And it would be interesting because this is boring.'
Boring.
Her life had been torn to pieces a few times over, with destruction and missing on half the happenings of her own life because she was busy saving the world… the universe, and Cat Grant categorized it as boring.
Kara laughed to herself. She didn't know the half of it. And yet, her reluctant mentor also had some encouraging words.
'I believe in you, I always have.'
She had offered an Editor-In-Chief position.
One position she wasn't entirely sure she deserved, but as Alex said, 'That was her dream job.' Not one she expected to get, so soon. It was one she expected for when her superheroing had dwindled, and she was well into her human midlife. When her birth-date would say she was in her late forties, and she had to pretend she followed some strict regimen to look as good as she did, because the yellow sun wouldn't really let her age that much.
Her own words, also bounced in her head.
'I give speeches inspiring people to live their best lives. But she's right. I am too afraid to live my own.'
'My entire life, I've hid behind these glasses. It's gotten in the way of every job I've ever had, everything I've ever wanted to do, every relationship.'
'I think hiding who I am is the reason I couldn't pass the courage Gauntlet. I created Supergirl that night because the thought of saving my sister as myself was too terrifying.'
At that precise moment, she did thought that. but in the days since her sister's wedding, she could ponder long and wide over it. That may have been the totem's argument. But the totem didn't know about her safety. All the times people knowing her identity, put them in danger.
The totem didn't live Jeremiah having to surrender himself to work for the D.E.O to protect her. The totem didn't know about the D.E.O recruiting her sister out of college, because she was an alien. The totem didn't know about Max Lord trying to date her sister just to try and uncover Supergirl's identity. Or Rick Malverne keeping Alex hostage, so Supergirl would do his bidding. Or Haley finding out her identity, and use it to manipulate her sister and herself.
The totem didn't understand Lex Luthor capturing her niece in exchange for more power.
Or Agent Liberty kidnapping Lena to force her to reveal her identity.
That didn't happen in this reality, but it did happened to her. And she caved, of course she did. But it was dangerous. Too dangerous.
Lena's words constantly swam in her mind too, 'You've had your entire life, people telling you who you're supposed to be and that if you didn't hide your true self then the people would get hurt. I mean, it's tough to move beyond those type of core wounds.'
"It wasn't until Lillian told me the truth that I realized I haven't been living my own life. And finally, now I am. And it feels amazing." She had said, as they walked together, one next to the other.
"I don't even know what that would feel like for me. Connecting with someone as my whole self. To not be afraid to just be who I am.." Kara confessed. "It sounds like it could be empowering," Lena encouraged her.
It wasn't until days later, that she realized she'd lied to her best friend.
They were both sitting in her couch, watching The Great British Baking Show. Kara didn't even remember which season they were on.
"Are you even paying attention to the TV?" Lena asked, like reading her mind.
"No, not really," Kara sincerely admitted."I was thinking about what we talked at the wedding. About living my own life."
Lena turned to look at her instead of the TV, "You took of your glasses."
"I did. But I don't think that's the correct move for me," Kara confessed.
"Then, what is it?"
Kara sighed, "I'll accept the Editor-In-Chief job."
"You seem awfully conflicted for someone accepting her dream job," Lena frowned.
"I just need to convince Cat Grant to accept my conditions."
"Ah," Lena let out. "I see." She looked at her with a smile. "If anyone can convince her of anything, is you."
Kara was mesmerized by her. She thought about how much their life has changed, since they met. How miserable she was when Lena wasn't in her life. How unhappy she was when she had to run away from her, a lie in her lips. And how much better it was now that she knew the truth and was a willing participant of her life as a superhero.
She didn't realized she had done it, get so close to Lena she'd just had to lean in a few inches to touch her lips to hers.
"I lied at the wedding, too." Kara whispered.
"Lied about what?" Lena asked, in an equally low mumble.
"That I didn't know how it felt connecting with someone as my whole self," Kara explained. "I do know. I've always done it with you, even without the obvious. But especially in the last year." Kara paused. "And I think… I think you are more than my best friend."
Lena didn't move, she kept looking into Kara's eyes looking for something, and it seemingly she found it. "And what are you going to do about it?" She muttered.
"I'm going to kiss you, if that's okay with you," Kara said, finally closing the distance between their lips.
Kara could fly, and yet nothing had ever felt like kissing Lena.
"I got it," Lena announced, entering the loft.
Kara was nervous. She had managed to convince Cat Grant of it, but of course, her mentor and boss, couldn't let the dramatics go, and didn't let Kara even look at the cover of the magazine before sending it to print.
"You do look very good," her girlfriend said.
She was still over the moon about calling Lena her girlfriend, but not even that could squelch her nervousness. The kiss Lena gave her as a greeting did, though.
"Ready?" Lena asked.
"As ready as I can be."
Lena flipped the magazine in front of her, showing the cover to Kara. A picture of herself in her SuperSuit looked back at her.
'Supergirl is out, Superwoman is in.'
"She could have gone with a less cliched headline," Kara commented in a whisper.
"It's not that bad," Lena said, throwing her hands around Kara's neck, keeping her close. "But if I'm completely honest, you know Kara has always been my hero."
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onlyjjong · 2 days ago
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엔하이픈 --- AFTER ALL, YOU KNOW ME BEST (PART 2)
  박성훈  x  fem!reader   ┊  for my one and only jennifer ^3^
GENERE ┊  !smau , !nonidol , !fluff , !hints of angst , !law school , !friends to lovers , !black cat sunghoon , !tutor(?) sunghoon , !talkative reader
NOTE DI ENTRATA  ┊  in which y/n, a bubbly and talkative extrovert, befriends one of decelis law school's academic weapon, park sunghoon𑁋managing not to only bump up her already outstanding grades to perfection, but to also unlock something in sunghoon that the world has never seen before.
DISCLAIMER  ┊  depictions may be inaccurate , contains swear words, i hate that i'm having inspo DURING IGCSE SEASON + i'm in no way a law student, so forgive me for any mistakes !
⟡ 📩 𑁋 TAGGING : @a-dream-bookmark , @enchive , @en-log , @/k-labels , @en-diaries
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               WANT TO SEE MORE ? ...
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― © onlyjjong, 2024.
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⟡ 📬 𑁋 𝓛𝐈𝐋𝐈's PERMANENT TAGLIST! (OPEN) : send an ask to be added! @flwrstqr , @junislqve , @tzyunaes , @who-tf-soddhi , @wonsdoll , @blvengene , @nxzz-skz , @amazingpersonever
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arcane-ish · 2 days ago
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I would never put it as there being no reason for Isha to be in the story.
She clearly has a function. Her purpose is to show us another side of Jinx and to serve as the glue or lubrication to encourage Jinx and Vi to team up and maybe also as the trigger for the next stage of Jinx.
And yes, of course one can say that these things could also have been achieved in a different way, there was no need for it to specifically happen through this character. But then again, this can be said for almost any choice made in fiction. That there were always many other options the author could have gone with.
I wonder if critique like this would be more likely to come from Jinx and Vi fans who feel that the show is maybe taking the easy way out to invent Isha to facilitate the reunion between Jinx and Vi rather than Jinx and Vi having to make those tough decisions and relationship building themselves. Like if that is too hard, maybe that is a sign you should work harder rather than introduce a new element to make it easier for you.
Or if it comes more from Jinx and Silco fans who think Jinx's final phase should have been triggered by Silco's death already and taking this road with Isha is redundant. Here imo I can imagine why the writers might feel different. That Silco's role in season 1 was very dominating of the narrative and maybe they felt like they hadn't gotten the chance to fully explore all aspects of Jinx that interest them while he was still around.
Or they wanted to have that arc of the sister, where they both wanted the "Vi hits rock bottom what her faith in Jinx is concerned and has truly written her off" as well as a tenative reunion and that wouldn't work if Jinx was full murder Jinx for most of season 2.
However, while I fully see the purpose of Isha and the role she plays within the structure and narrative, I do see the flaw that she doesn't really feel like a real/realistic person. We/many don't care because she's incredibly cute and and charmingly animated and what she lets us learn about Jinx is moving and interesting. But her existance and actions just don't feel very plausibly grounded in the world. (which again, I'm willing to overlook and go with the flow, but the point still is that I have to do this going with the flow action rather than she feeling like she is a natural part of the world. She feels like a walking symbolism, not a real person with a past and connections within the world)
Seeing a lot of “there was no reason for Isha to be in the story” complaints and aside from the fact that story wise I actually love having new and varied characters interacting in interesting and unexpected ways that’s kind of a large part of what I come to stories for, and aside from the whole narrative weight of a character who’s being called Jinx trying a “do over” of her major incident and having it go so catastrophically wrong, I think there’s definitely something to be said for an arc exploring the whole “is it better to have loved and lost than to never love at all?”where sometimes getting the thing you ever wanted and losing it can fuck you over way more. Like, they take Jinx, who adopts this kid and through her reconnects with her childhood self who she’s been struggling to either cast aside or integrate, and also her older sister who she now has a bit of better understanding of having walked a mile in her shoes, and the father who raised her, and for a moment it actually looks like it’ll work this time. And then she loses it all, this wasn’t the same scenario as the end of s1, this was specifically and textually intended as a conscious and deliberate do over, an extension of “it was something I could fix”, and she’s gonna feel like she jinxed it. Jinx was apathetic to her own death at the beginning of s2 but it feels like it’s gonna be way worse now. But Isha did it all so the girl who saved her could live. Jinx is going to have to reckon with the fact that you will love and lose in life, and it’ll be painful, but painful as it is it’s better than never having it at all, and it’s part of that thing that Isha wanted for her, living. And I think that’s a very interesting and crucial question to be asking, especially of a character called Jinx
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anjautembear · 19 hours ago
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Helloo. So this is my first post and I had this idea in my head after I listend to a song. English isn't my first language so sorry if there are spelling errors or sentences that don't make a lot of sence😅. I hope to the readers that read this like this as much as I do and sorry again if it doesn't make sence >_<. OKAY on to the story!!
Warning: Angst baby
Inspired by the song: All i want by kodaline
All i want is nothing more
To hear you knocking at my door
He watches the door, hoping that she would walk threw it, greating him with that loving smile she always had, that still haunts him. He still hopes after weeks, but deep down he knows.
'Cause if I could see your face once more
I could die as a happy man I'm sure
He misses her, her face is starting to blur in his memory of her, but he wishes to go back. He wishes that he took her face in detail, if he only knew, that she would no longer be here, he would have printed her loving gaze in his mind.
When you said your last goodbye
The day of her death, is the day he wishes that never happend, the day that cancer took her from him, a sickness he so hates, a day that will haunt him forever.
The sound of a heartmonitor beeping in the background, the doctors and nurces shoes squeking on the floor outside, people talking, the sound of the wind blowing outside, the autum air blowing threw the curtains. Her favourite season.
But all those noises are blurred, for his soulfocus, was her, his beloved, his wife. He remembers holding her hand so tight for he feared she would pass to soon, slip from his fingers. His hold is tight but not too tight, for he didn't want to brake her. She was already thin and fragile. He still hates that feeling of her thin hand holding his and not the once healthy hand. Cancer was a true nightmare.
Her last words, the words that haunt him still, her fairwell greating, was a request. She requested that he should move on, marry another, find a new person that would treat him well. That she still and would love him. She hates that she is dying but does not want her beloved to suffer when she's gone. Her last and final words,
"You were a wonderful experience, I loved every minute with you. You were the reason for my every smile...I think...I'm ready to go home..with a smile and the memorys of us. Please look after youself...please."
I died a little bit inside
As his tears fall after she said those words, her final breath was taken, and she was gone. Like the autum leaves she so loved, her soul being carried away, back home. Her final smile with one tear falling, will always haunt him. His tears mimicking hers, but a waterfall. His heart stoped beating that day, like hers, for his heart shatter after she ripped the bandage clean.
I lay in tears in bed all night
As he lays in his ice cold bed, that no longer has her sent and warmf. He stares at the picture of their wedding day next to his bed. He still hasn't taken it off. His lifeless eyes staring at her bright smile, her wedding dress blowing in the spring wind. Memorys of her laughter, a sickening reminder, of his regrets of not marrying her sooner.
Alone without you by my side
He can no longer sleep, he can't, he tried multible times. But he can't sleep without her warm body next to his. So he holds her pillow, that no longer has her sent, the perfume bottle she once used ,empty after he used it to remind him of her.
But if you loved me
Why'd you leave me?
He doesn't know who to blame, himself, for not meating her sooner, cancer, a sickness that took her, or her, who left him a broken mess. A broken man who can't fix himself without her.
Take my body
Take my body..
All I want is
All I need is..
He felt like he should have been the one who left, he should be the one burried 6 feet under ground, he should be the one cold in the coffen, instead of his beloved, who didn't deserve it.
She was a bright light in a room full of dull lamps, he only saw her in a room full of people. But now she's a light no longer there, he is lost in the dark room. She is now no longer in the room full of people, he is surching, but she's already in the train of no return.
He needs her...but he no longer has her to save him
To find somebody
I'll find somebody
He tells himself he'll find another light, another person in the crowd, but deep down he knows that will never happen. She was the only 'somebody' he loved. But he'll try for her, he promised.
Ooh oh
Ooh oh
Ooh oh
Ooh oh
Memorys flash his mind. The day they met, bumping into eachother, on a cold autum day. He remembers how pretty she looked, how her hair framed her face, her flushed cheeks in the cold air. Her smile. Her smile he so loved.
Memorys flash in his mind. The day he preposed, the ring that gleamed in the setting sun. Her tears of joy rolling down her soft warm cheeks he so loved to kiss in the morning. Her eyes gleaming, resembling the ring, the ring he will no longer use.
Memorys flash in his mind. The day of their wedding. Tears of joy and laughter in the air of close friends, but the only laugh he heard, was hers, his wife, his other soul.
Memorys flash now...regret coming back. The day of her funeral. The rain pooring down, her coffen laying there, her favourite flower ontop. Haunting him. Mocking him, mocking him that he will no longer be able to give those same flowers to her on valentimes-day.
Cause you brought out the best of me
A part of me i'd never seen
He never thought that he could be loved, he always saw himself as the worst version of himself. But that all changed when she showed up in his life unexpectedly. She showed him parts of himself he has never seen before. She changed him into a better person. He never new he had these sides to him but she showed him like a hidden chapter between sticky pages glued together that he hid.
You took my soul and wiped it clean.
He was never a relegious person but she came to his life like a saint and changed his soul for the better. She saved him when he was stuck in a dark void of emptyness and anger. He worshiped her love like a person in church.
Our love was made for movie screens
If their love life was a movie. He was sure that everyone would have loved her as much as he did. They would have seen how deep their love was, how inlove he was. But he geasses that not every movie has a happy ending. There love story had a plot twist not even he could see coming.
Ooh, if you loved me
Why'd you leave me
Take my body
Take my body
All I want is..
All I need is..
To find somebody
I'll find somebody
Like you, ooh
He promised himself, he promised you, that he would move on. Find somebody that would love him like you did, but he can't. He would have to brake that promise. He can't move on, you were his somebody...
Thank you for reading this, I hope this wasn't a bad story😅. Bye bye!!
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theoddest1 · 1 day ago
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Okay so, ima type in what I typed to my friend here.
"Yeah Ima be so dead ass. ||Mel and Ekko carried the final for me, ESPECIALLY Ekko."
Yeah, they should have just kept [Viktor] being Ryze. That made more sense to me than whatever this is. And I am all for mlm rep, but yeah, this felt WAY too, Jayvikky. I liked it better that they were brothers to parallel Vander and Silco, who also found each other and became bros, but it seemed like they went with how popular JayVik was and stuck with it. And Jayce being strung with Viktor for wherever they went felt...kinda nonsensical. I'd rather that Viktor was thwarted and too far gone to then just suddenly have a change of heart and go with Jayce. I imagined that he would have a contingency where he, incase his body was destroyed, would then later rise again to try and enact "Glorious Evolution". It would go well with the themes of his beliefs anyway because every time he dies, he comes back stronger in a new body. I feel like that would better set the ongoing conflict and fit well with the game and why he looks the way he does currently.
I also don't like how quick he and Mel's reunion was considering how much he favored her along with his odd and sudden dislike for her decisions-- Seriously, where did that even come from!?"
[Thought it over further. Him calling her out on her actions isn't the issue. It's the timing and how this transpires that confuses me. He just came from a post-apocalyptic world where Mel, Viktor, and everything else came to mind. The lack of time for them to truly talk made the scene felt out of nowhere and not at all fleshed out. He goes on to place part of the blame on her when literally it wasn't. She DID manipulate but only politically. Everything else was on he and Viktor. Then, when he DOES confront Viktor, the vibes are different. Viktor hurt and caused a chain of events that led to several lives being taken to ensure survival and his "Glorious Evolution", why is this essentially overlooked? Maybe when I review this again, it will make more sense, but as of now, the way Jayce treats both Mel and Viktor is VERY questionable.]
"I would have been pretty happy if He at least gave her a hug, a kiss, something to make their relationship seem consistent with what we were shown. I know that he's been gone for a while and a lot more cold, but this was a very odd direction to go with. I am super happy about Cait and Mel fighting side by side and that Mel may be the main character for a new Noxus related show! [Which I knew they'd set up!] but this series, after seeing it in its entirety, DID suffer too much from the pacing issues. I assumed at the First Act that it was quick paced to go with how they've all been shifted into places they didn't see coming, but the pacing issues continued to bring down the quality. 3 seasons would have made way more sense and would go well with the 3 ACT formula they had used. I hope they learn from this and refrain from making similar mistakes.
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[I responded to my friend who posted these images above] I knew they'd make a callback to this line eventually, and I am genuinely surprised people are not catching this obvious set up to Jinx living. Also, I am betting that Heimer did "die" but only that alternate version of himself. [Though obviously I could be wrong, though a life of various lifetimes where he helps each version of the main cast sounds very Heimerdinger of him, especially since he didn't wanna leave.]
The biggest letdown for me has to be Jayce and Viktor's story. It just...doesn't make sense with what we have been shown. Also, if Viktor KNOWS bad shit would happen when bringing Hextech to life and all, why TF would he give it to Jayce then???? Or if he STILL wanted magic to be tampered with shy doesn't he comvince himself in a way HE KNOWS would prevent what happens next, surely NOT EVERY timeline has it where you continue on the path of destruction! You see what I mean!?!? Leave the time crap to Ekko, man. This new inclusion makes no sense! And he does this in VARIOUS timeliness for some reason. Man, I wish it was just a random ass mage or Ryze, this added stuff kinda kills the finale for me🫠
I feel that making Viktor time travel ruins a huge aspect of the story, ngl, especially when Jayce argues that people can "craft their own path." The story also shouldn't have ended with what I could only assume both of them "dying" or traversing time instead. Also, the way Sky was treated and essentially replaced with Jayce feels....very very weeeeird."
[I believe that the ending just didn't land that well. I feel, now thinking over every character, Ekko, Mel, and Jinx carried this season HEAVY. These 3 were the most interesting parts of the season, honorable mention being Singed cause he be doing what he MUST. Also, what was the point of introducing Loris if all he was gonna end up being was a random guy who reminded Vi of Vander? I guess nothing is wrong with this, but when you're already stringing for time, these inclusions make no sense... I liked him, though, RIP Loris🤧. Oh, and Caut barely facing consequences is KINDA CRAZY but it goes with the themes of forgiveness/ acceptance. The Cycle would never end, after all, but yeah Vi and Cait made up WAY too fast and just shows that this needed another season. Let me know your thoughts!]
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kaoskuantico · 2 days ago
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I hate Act III, sorry. All the second season was too rushed and some characters that didn't deserve a happy ending got it, and those who have been suffering got the worst ending.
Acts I and II were good, but III is the worst.
In case someone hasn't seen Act III yet, ARCANE ACT III SPOILERS
No one cares but here's a list of the things I hated:
Too rushed, I think we needed another season BEFORE this one
WTF Caitvi sex scene IN JINX'S CELL, RIGHT AFTER SHE LEFT. That's so disrespectful and stupid, Vi wasn't in the right state of mind, as much as I love Caitvi, putting that scene there was a mistake
I'm sorry but I also hate Timebomb (I'm a Lightcannon shipper, which is funny because Lux doesn't even show up in Arcane, but one can dream though fanarts)
Jinx surrendering (why we didn't even get a flashback scene?) and being imprisoned like a dog. Yet the enforcers were never punished
Vi not listening to Jinx telling her MULTIPLE TIMES to get out of there, and because of her, Jinx sacrifices herself (yes, I know she's most likely alive. But that brings my next point:)
Jinx not getting a happy ending at all. She lost everyone, right when she was about to get rehabilitated, Isha dies right in front of her. And we didn't get any Sevika dialogue with her, not even trying to save Jinx (Sevika surely didn't know, but at least a scene where she looks for Isha and Jinx???)
The final scene where Vi is only seen with Caitlyn. Yes, I knew they'd end up together and they deserve it, but what about everything that happened? Losing all her family? Learning to fight just to lose everything and everyone? Ekko not talking to Vi at all after the war? Vi not mourning Jinx?
Why make Jayce and Mel be together if they were going to forget about it and act like it didn't happen? (I prefer Jayvik, but that's another story)
Jinx saving Caitlyn, but apparently that didn't matter at all. Jinx killed her mother, yes. But enforcers killed countless of people, including Jinx and Vi's parents. Even if Jinx surrendered, why put her in that isolated jail? That was Caitlyn's grief acting
Honestly I don't know why Isha had to sacrifice herself, I feel it was too unnecessary, just to traumatize Jinx even more and kill Warwick again.
I wanted to see more of Vi, of her life in prison and before their parents died (besides Vander's memories). But they put too much focus on Caitlyn and the Caitvi. As if Vi's entire character is being Cait's girlfriend
Caitlyn (and every enforcer) didn't get punish at all for their crimes. Caitlyn became a dictator because Jinx killed her mother, but countless of children saw their own parents be murdered in front of them, and now they're the bad guys for attacking back? Mind you, at least Jinx aimed her weapon to the Council, the people who oppressed them. But Piltover kills civilians like nothing, putting CHILDREN in jail. At the end, they end up like the good guys, giving Zaun a seat in the Council. When they should have fought for it, making Piltover pay for everything they've done. Which brings my next two points:
Zaun is never set free, it's still part of Piltover
Following the previous point: Caitlyn becomes a dictator, Viktor a cult god who almost destroys the world. But Jinx is so unredeemable???
Vi accepting Cait immediately, as if act I didn't happen. I understand they wanted to make Caitvi canon, but it was too rushed.
The 'good timeline' being like that because Vi died???? WTF the enforcers wanted a name, ANYONE to put the blame on, so the Council could 'make an example'. And now suddenly everything is okay? The abuse from Piltover is gone? But even if that were true, it's sad it would take Vi's death so peace could exist
Cait put Jinx, a traumatized, suicidal and schizophrenic girl in an ISOLATED CELL.
In a more relaxed note, I hate the design of Powder in the other timeline. I have to admit I absolutely love Jinx's design, with her bang and long braids but damn I expected a Powder with a single braid and a better sense of fashion xd
I understand Ambessa was behind everything, she was using Caitlyn recent grief to manipulate her. But she never apologized, her actions can't be erased, she said it herself.
Jinx giving 'her blessing' to Vi to be with Cait. Jinx has been feeling replaced by Cait since season 1 and right when we thought they could resolve this (before Act III), they do this. If anything, they confirm Cait replaced Jinx and that Jinx had every reason to feel like that
Jinx sacrificing herself (yeah, we know she isn't truly dead, but I'm talking about the symbolism) WASN'T REDEMPTION. IT WAS SUICIDE, A TRAGEDY. Just a few hours ago Jinx tried to kill herself five times, she just saw an opportunity to do it again and not making Vi fight for her, because Jinx feels she doesn't deserve Vi. It wasn't heroic, it was a suicide
Singed getting his happy ending. HIM, OF ALL PEOPLE. He created the Shimmer, made it a drug and created addicts in Zaun just so he could keep experimenting. Dude, I get it, you want your daughter back, but at that point you should've just accepted she's gone. Vander is gone, Vi and Ekko are left alone (which brings my next point), Jinx killed herself, Jayce spent days, weeks or months alone in an apocalyptic world, Zaun is still under Piltover's power...And HE gets his happy ending? No consequences? No punishment for experimenting on dead bodies/potentially having killed them, for being in Ambessa's side????
Following point 7, why Vi is only seen with Cait at the end? Ekko is truly alone now, and Vi only has the enforcer who betrayed her and never apologized for her actions with her and Zaun. I get it, they wanted to please Caitvi's shippers, but shipping is not the only thing here (which why I hated Timebomb in the alternate timeline)
I'll probably keep updating the list for a few days.
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