#seriously you should have listened to her

[spiderace]

I don't know where you live, anyone reading, but I'm in the western USA and it's VERY hard to get a hysterectomy here. I had endometrial hyperplasia and it caused me a period that lasted for months. Then they made me get the Mirena IUD for six more. That was a woman doctor. In fact, the doctors and nurses at every stage who didn't take my pain seriously and suggested minimal intervention were all women. One nurse said that she'd had a patient not come to her about the symptoms until she'd had a period that lasted over a year. I felt there was an implication that I was being a wuss about it.

I was lucky and didn't get a punctured uterus like several other Mirena users. Finally, I switched insurance companies in hopes of getting some actual help and that worked. I had a hysto without oophorectomy at age 38. I won't say I have no issues, but keeping the ovaries prevents some of the hormonal problems and delays early menopause.

And ah. Support structure. The uterus??? The expandable pear the size of a fist that is cradled within the bony pelvis??? I'm always willing to learn and be corrected, but what exactly is it supposed to be vitally supporting structurally? I haven't had any issues exercising without one.

I agree that no one should consider hysterectomy lightly, but if I had listened to people like some of the ones in these comments I would have had years more of misery.

hmmm why does my uterus hurt and why do i feel kinda off. weird. surely these are not the warning symptoms of a predictable biological process that occurs on a regular schedule. anyway. im going to wear white pants today.

[cressidagrey]

The Queen of Romantasy and the Race Car Prince - Chapter 21

Pairing: Lando Norris x Elizabeth "Lizzie" Treshton (Original Character)

Summary:

Elizabeth Treshton—bestselling romantasy author, queen of fae heartbreak, and sworn devotee of a carefully structured routine—never expected her service dog to abandon protocol and diagnose a Formula 1 driver with something. But that’s exactly what happens when Mara the wonder-dog ditches Lizzie’s side to aggressively alert to none other than Lando Norris in the middle of a coffee shop.

Warnings and Notes: 

Mention of epilepsy and service animals. I don't myself suffer from epilepsy, so I asked my IRL friend, who thankfully was nice enough to let me ask her all the questions I could come up with. The rest I asked Reddit. So everything that's wrong...that's totally my fault and not on purpose.

This has literally all the worst things the internet has to offer: Ableism, Sexisms, Toxic Media, horrible journalism, death threats...I am pretty sure I am missing some of it.

As always big thanks to @llirawolf , who listens to me ramble

Lizzie sat curled up on the sofa in Aunt Lou’s living room, her arms wrapped around a cushion like it could hold her together. Mara was sprawled out beside her, her big brown eyes watching Lizzie carefully, like she knew something was wrong.

Lizzie ran her fingers through Mara’s fur, letting the motion of it soothe her, if only slightly. Her mind kept going over the same thing again and again: all those comments, all those tweets, all those people…they didn’t think she should exist.

They didn’t think, she deserved to exist. 

And her mother…

Tasha was sitting cross-legged on the armchair, arms folded, her expression thunderous, playing with her phone. 

Finally, Aunt Lou turned to Lizzie, hands on her hips. "Enough."

Lizzie blinked. “What?”

“This whole thing.” Aunt Lou gestured wildly. “This self-doubt, this ‘I was replaced’ nonsense. I am not having it.”

Lizzie let out a tired sigh. “Aunt Lou—”

“No. Listen to me, Elizabeth Louise.” Aunt Lou sat down on the coffee table, right in front of Lizzie, her sharp gaze pinning her in place.

“You were never replaced,” she said fiercely. “You were left. And that is not the same bloody thing.”

Lizzie’s throat tightened.

“She left you. She made that choice. And that is her shame to carry, not yours.”

Lizzie swallowed hard, but Aunt Lou wasn’t done.

“You are not a burden,” she said bluntly, hands on her knees, her voice steady and firm. “You were never a burden, you’re just… a little extra work. And if anyone can’t deal with that, they’re not worth your time.” Her eyes softened. “And sweetheart, you are worth it. You’re worth every bit of extra trouble, every hospital stay, every seizure…you are worth every damn second.”

“You know what I did?” Lou demanded. “When your father showed up at my door with you, six years old, confused, scared out of your mind?”

Lizzie shook her head.

“I took you in,” Lou said firmly. “I wrapped you in a blanket, I made you a cup of tea—weak, with too much sugar, because you were a kid and had terrible taste—"

Lizzie let out a weak laugh.

“—and I looked at you and knew right then and there that you were mine.” Aunt Lou exhaled sharply. “And you are mine, Lizzie. I don’t care about biology, I don’t care about paperwork. You are my daughter."

Lizzie bit her lip, trying to blink away the sting in her eyes. “You always treated me like one.”

“Of course I bloody did.” Aunt Lou huffed. “And if you ever doubt that again, I swear I’ll knock some sense into you.”

Before Lizzie could respond, Tasha let out an incredulous scoff from her chair. “I cannot believe we are even having this conversation.”

Lizzie turned toward her, startled. “Tash—”

“No, seriously.” Tasha shot to her feet, pacing like her mother had been earlier. “This is ridiculous.”

Lizzie frowned. “I—”

“No. You don’t get to just let some internet loser make you doubt yourself. You don’t get to do that to me.”

Lizzie blinked. “What?”

Tasha stopped, turning to face her. “You are my sister. You have always been my sister. And I don’t know how many times I have to say it before it actually gets through your stubborn head, but I will not stand here and listen to you act like you don’t belong to this family.”

Lizzie opened her mouth, but Tasha steamrolled right over her.

“You do belong. You always belonged. And I swear, if I hear you say one more word about being ‘replaced’ or ‘not good enough,’ I will fight you.”

Lizzie let out a choked laugh.

“I’m serious,” Tasha said. “I will throw hands. And then I’ll hug you after, because that’s what sisters do.”

Lizzie swallowed hard, overwhelmed. “I—”

Aunt Lou clapped her hands together. “Right. Settled then.” She stood, brushing off her jeans. “No more of this nonsense. You are mine, you are ours, and that is the end of the discussion.”

Lizzie exhaled shakily.

Tasha flopped down on the couch beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and squeezing tight. “Love you, dummy.”

Lizzie leaned into her, her heart aching in a way that wasn’t painful, just full. “Love you too.”

Aunt Lou sighed, shaking her head fondly. “Honestly, this family. Bloody stubborn, the lot of you.”

Lizzie smiled, the warmth of them settling deep in her bones. Maybe her mother had left. Maybe she had a whole new family now.

But Lizzie had hers.

And somehow, as the three of them snuggled up on the sofa together, watching some mindless TV show, Lizzie found herself believing it.

She was never a burden. She was never a problem. Maybe her mother didn't want her, maybe she never had, but that didn't mean Lizzie didn't belong.

She leaned her head against Aunt Lou's sturdy shoulder, Tasha's arm still around her.

She was loved. That was what mattered.

"Besides you got multiple world champions singing your praises," Tasha teased her.

What?

Tasha poked her in the side. “Don’t give me that look. It’s all over the internet. Lando’s got people swooning over how he’s so in love with you that he got the entire grid to release a statement. You’re all over the sports news.”

Lizzie freezed, coffee mug halfway to her lips. “What?”

“Yeah,” Tasha nodded, flipping her phone around so Lizzie can see the screen. “Like, all of them. It’s actually insane.”

Lizzie leant in, blinking at the words on the screen. Lando’s statement—she already knew about that one. But right below it are posts from Max, Charles, Carlos, Oscar—who apparently torched people on Twitter—Lewis, Pierre, Alex, even drivers she barely knew. Some of them are long and furious, others short but biting. But they all say the same thing: the way people treated her was unacceptable.

Lizzie stared. “You’re joking.”

“Nope,” Tasha said, popping a bite of toast into her mouth. “Oscar basically threatened to annihilate anyone who spoke badly about you again. Max said something about how F1 is about competition and not cruelty, —which, considering it’s Max, is actually kind of terrifying. Charles and Carlos both went full ‘we stand with Lando and Lizzie’ mode, and Lewis did this whole thing about supporting people with chronic conditions. Oh, and you got all the wags posting long rants on their instagram stories.’”

Lizzie’s mouth opened. Then closed. Then opened again. “What the hell?”

“Right?” Tasha snorted. “I mean, it’s actually insane. I don’t think I’ve ever seen them this united over anything. You somehow got an entire grid of stubborn, overcompetitive men to rally behind you.”

Lizzie swallowed, looking back at the screen. The words blur slightly. She hadn’t expected this. She’d expected silence, maybe some awkward avoidance from people who didn’t want to get involved. But this?

This was a statement.

She set the phone down, exhaling. “I don’t even know what to say.”

Tasha watched her carefully. “Are you okay?”

Lizzie hesitated, then nods. “Yeah. Just—” She shook her head, laughing softly. “I didn’t think they’d care this much.”

Tasha smirked. “Well, they do. Lando wasn’t going to let this slide, and clearly neither were the rest of them.”

Lizzie rubbed her face, still processing. “I bet Oscar was unhinged.”

“Oh, completely. That man wrote a dissertation on Twitter. You should send him a thank-you gift.”

Lizzie snorted, finally smiling. “Like what?”

Tasha grinned. “A tiny crochet Oscar with a sword. Y’know, to commemorate his Twitter war crimes.”

Lizzie shook her head, but the smile lingered. “I might actually do that.”

***

Lizzie was curled up on the couch, knees pulled up to her chest, a blanket draped over her shoulders. She’s been mostly quiet since dinner, absentmindedly scrolling through her phone. Lando watched her from the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a bottle of water in hand.

She finally sighed, locking her phone and tossing it onto the coffee table. “I think I’m going to lay low for a little while.”

Lando frowned slightly, coming over to sit next to her. “You don’t have to do that.”

Lizzie gave him a small smile, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. “I know. But I want to. At least for a bit. Just… keep away from the internet, let everything settle.” She exhaled, rolling her shoulders like she’s shaking off the weight of it all. 

His jaw tightened. He hates that she feels like this—like she has to disappear just to protect herself. “If that’s what you need, then do it,” he said softly. “But I don’t want you thinking you have to.”

Lizzie nodded. “I know. And I appreciate you, really.” She nudges his knee with her foot. “But it’s not forever. Just… a little while.”

Lando reached over, taking her hand and running his thumb over her knuckles. “Alright.”

She squeezed his hand in return, then nods toward his phone on the armrest. “But tell the guys and girls I said thank you. I mean, I’ll message Oscar myself because that man fought a war for me, but… the rest of them, too.”

Lando huffed out a laugh. “Oscar basically nuked Twitter.”

“I know,” Lizzie grinned. “I should crochet him a little war trophy.”

Lando chuckled lightly. “He’d probably love that.”

Lizzie leaned back against the couch, still smiling faintly. Then the exhaustion seemed to hit her again, and she closed her eyes.

Lando watched her, tracing small circles on the back of her hand with his thumb. She looked tired—exhausted, even. Tired physically and emotionally.

“Speaking of messages, though…”

Lizzie narrowed her eyes. “Oh no. What?”

“My family,” Lando said, watching her reaction carefully. “Mum, my sisters… they, uh—” He paused, then went for it. “They’re demanding to meet you.”

Lizzie blinked, “What.”

“They knew I was dating someone named Lizzie,” Lando explained. “But they did not know it was Elizabeth Treshton.” He made a face. “Apparently, that was crucial information I neglected to share.”

Lizzie sat there for a moment, blinking, like she was trying to process the idea of meeting Lando's family.

“They- They want to meet me? Why?” The words came out slightly strangled.

Lando shrugged. “Cause they’re nosy, and they think I’m hiding something, and I’m pretty sure if I don’t let them meet you, they’ll start thinking you’re actually secretly an alien or something.”

“Oh god,” Lizzie groaned, leaning forward until her head almost hit her knees. “Oh god, I have to meet the in-laws now. I have to-oh god I have to impress the in-laws. Oh god they’re probably going to hate me—“

“Whoa, whoa, hold on.” Lando put a hand on her shoulder. “First of all, they aren't gonna hate you."

Lizzie huffed. “How do you know? You can’t know that.”

He tugged at a strand of her hair, grinning. “Because you’re pretty damn lovable. And two… I know my own family. None of them could hate you even if they tried.” He shook his head. “In fact, they might actually be more excited to meet you than me.”

“I haven’t even processed the grid knowing who I am,” Lizzie groaned. “Now I have to face the Norris family tribunal?”

Lando grinned. “Basically, yeah.”

Lizzie sighed dramatically but then peeks up at him. “Your mum… does she like romance books?”

“Oh, she’s a huge reader,” Lando says. “I think my sisters are too. Why?”

Lizzie stared at the ceiling. “Because if they’ve read my books, I might just walk into the ocean.”

Lando just laughed, leaning over to kiss her temple. “Too late now, love. You’re stuck with me.”

[mariasont]

We Reap What I Sow - S.R

you fight, you burn, you break apart, and then you pull him back in — again and again, as if love is something that can't exist without wreckage

pairings: s6!spencer reid x reader warnings: reader is a villain (sorry yall), toxic relationship, emotional manipulation & gaslighting, obsession, codependency, unreliable (heavy on this) narrator, angst, toxic sexual dynamics mentioned?, sex and violence closely linked, mentions of rough handlings? (nothing crazy), alcohol use, no clear resolution wc: 2.3k request: here

Your fingers move faster than your conscience, like an invocation. You text without thinking, apologize without meaning it. You're sure if you type hard enough, fast enough, maybe you can summon him from the ether, resurrect him from silence. Silence is worse than anger.

Spencer, please. Send.

Spence, I’m sorry. I swear I didn’t mean it. Send.

Are you seriously ignoring me right now? Send.

Don’t be an asshole. Send

Your drink is half-melted and too sweet now, but you drink it anyway. The bar lights bleed across the counter, flickering in and out like dying fireflies. Your friend is saying something – was saying something — but you weren’t listening. Work gossip, maybe. A guy. You nod when it feels right, laugh when you think you should.

Your phone vibrates — Spencer. No. Just your banking app reminding you how much you’ve spent tonight. 

You down the rest of your drink, tongue flicking out to catch the last traces of whatever the hell this was supposed to taste like before firing off another text. 

I know you’re mad. I just need to talk to you. Please. Send.

“Hello? Earth to psycho girlfriend?”

The bar sways, or that might just be your stomach catching up to the alcohol. Okay. Maybe you’re drunker than you thought. You close your phone, pushing it under your clutch as if that’ll erase the texts you’ve already sent.

“I’m fine.”

Your friend snorts, swirling what’s left of her own drink. “You’re, like, four seconds away from showing up at his apartment.”

“I am not. God. I’m not that desperate.”

“Babe.”

“I’m not,” you insist, crossing your arms. “I’m just… considering all my options.”

“Right. And one of those options isn’t showing up at his apartment?”

You sigh, rubbing your temples. “Okay, but why is it always on me? Like, why do I have to be the mature one and not do the thing I want to do?”

“Because you’ll regret it?”

You scoff. “Yeah, well. I’ll also regret not doing it.”

“So I think what I’ve gathered is you both enable each other’s worst behaviors?”

You blink at her for a second before smiling. “I mean, we have fun though.”

That's a lie by omission. It’s not fun by normal standards. Not in the way people mean when they say it. It’s just… habitual self-destruction. The way you press your palm against a hot stove, just to see how long you can hold it there. The way you drink on an empty stomach, knowing you’ll feel it sooner, harder, faster.

It’s last summer, a nameless hotel hallway that smelled like bleach, his hand bruising your wrist, voice a slow-burn — you want me to lose my temper? And something inside you thrilled at threat because yes, yes, let’s stop pretending, let’s make this hurt, make me matter enough to break you.

It’s that fight in the car, rain slashing sideways, nails biting into your palms as you threw the words like glass — why don’t you just leave me, then? And his hands slammed the wheel, voice breaking apart when he begged you to shut up.

It’s the night you deleted his number, not because you were done, but because you wanted to see if he’d crawl for you. If he’d go mad wondering where you were, what you were doing, who you were with.

And he did.

It’s tonight, when you let another man lean in too close, let his lips brush your ear, let him say something forgettable, disposable, background noise. You didn’t hear him. You didn’t care. Because it wasn’t about him. It was about Spencer. It’s always about Spencer. About pressing on the bruise until he flinches, making sure he sees.

And Spencer did.

Right before he turned, before he walked away, before you could decide if you wanted to chase after him or let the wound fester.

You’re good at this. You’re an artist. A sculptor of narratives. A surgeon of half-truths.

You don’t lie — not really. You just bend the story with careful hands, carve the angles sharp enough to dismantle, tilt the light until Spencer’s face is shadowed as the villain. Until he is the one who obsesses, who picks and picks until he draws blood. Until he is the one who turns love into madness.

And sometimes, sure. That’s true of him. 

But what you never say — what you never let yourself say — is that you planted the seeds yourself. That you fed them. Watered them. Built a trellis for them to climb. You created the house, laid the foundation, furnished every corner with suspicion and longing, and then stood outside and called it a prison.

And now, tonight, you’re rolling your eyes, laughing too loud, shaking your head as you tell your friend he always does this. You make him sound crazy, childish. Like his anger isn’t justified. Like his absence wasn’t the only thing that ever made sense. 

But deep down, beyond the haze of liquor and the comfortable show of self-righteousness, you know the truth. 

Spencer didn’t lose his mind on his own. You put it in his hands and asked him to break it.

You don’t remember making the choice to leave. Not really. One second, you’re laughing at something dumb, and then, your lips graze your friend’s cheek, a murmured get home safe, and you’re already moving, barely hearing her say your name, barely acknowledging the question in her voice.

Then it’s Spencer’s address, burned into your brain. The driver nods. The city twists and sways outside the window — yellow blurs, red smears, streetlights flickering across your hands. Your eyes close, and for just a second —

Then, oh. You’re there.

You barely hear the door slam behind you. You barely thank the driver. You don’t even think before your feet hit the pavement, before you’re walking up the steps.

And then there’s the door. His door. The one that’s been thrown open with a scowl, slammed shut mid-sentence, locked just long enough to make a point. The one that never stays closed for long. Not when it’s you on the other side. 

You knock, giggling as you wobble, nearly toppling over while yanking off your heels. They hit the ground haphazardly somewhere behind you, forgotten the second they leave your hands.

The knocking turns into pounding, palm smacking against the door between raps of your knuckles. It’s almost funny, the way impatience surges through you like a second heartbeat, the way you know he’s there — standing just beyond the wood, watching, hesitating, chewing over whether to let you in.

The door swings open and you’re already falling. Already tipping forward like your body knew he’d be there to catch you. Your limbs have learned that Spencer Reid is your safety net, your buffer, your inevitable landing.

“Whoops,” you murmur, the alcohol humming pleasantly beneath your tongue, making everything feel slower. “My bad.”

He doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t roll his eyes. Doesn’t sigh, doesn’t scold, doesn’t react at all. He just steadies you, brief and impersonal, fingers curling at your waist for less than a second before he looks away.

He bends, picks up your heels from where you left them, places them neatly on the entryway table. Cold air fills the space where his hands were. He shuts the door.

“Did you not see my texts?”

Nothing.

“I said sorry.” Sharper now, words clipped, fingers drumming against your arms where they’re folded tight across your chest. “Jesus, Spencer, you’re being —”

Ridiculous.

You almost say it, the word a loaded bullet in the chamber. But then his jaw tightens, his throat works through a swallow and you bite down, tasting blood instead.

“You said sorry?” He spits it back like it burns, like he wants it out of his mouth as fast as possible. “You said sorry, and that’s supposed to mean what, exactly? That I don’t get to be mad? That I don’t get to be upset when you spent the whole night deliberately pissing me off?”

You sway slightly. “Oh, right,” you say, words dripping bitter sarcasm. “Because you never do anything to piss me off, right? You’re so fucking perfect. You don’t overthink, you don’t obsess, you never turn nothing —”

“Tell you what,” he cuts in, voice flat and final. “You’re right. I do overthink. And apparently, I was stupid enough to think you gave a shit about what that does to me.” His gaze sears into you. “But tell me,” he continues, “when have I ever overthought something you did and reached the wrong conclusion?”

God, you know he gets off on this. On delivering those carefully crafted sentences, watching you flinch without raising a finger, precise enough that he never appears anything but calm and rational. 

And he knows you have nowhere to go. Silence damns you just as much as fighting back. He knows you’ll open your mouth anyway. You don’t have any other options.

“Maybe if you didn’t dig into every goddamn thing I do, I wouldn’t have to keep explaining myself.”

Spencer barks out a laugh, the kind that sounds more like an exhale than anything amused. He looks like he might punch the wall. Like he might slam his fist straight through the drywall, let his frustration exist somewhere outside his body. But he doesn’t, just shakes his head, jaw screwed so tight you can practically hear his teeth grind.

“Oh, that’s good,” he mutters, thick with disbelief, bordering on disgust. “That’s actually — wow.” He looks at you then, really looks at you, like he’s seeing you for the first time. Or maybe the last. “You really just said that with a straight face, huh?”

It wasn’t always like this. You used to be good. Really good. The kind of good that made people jealous, the kind where he’d brush a hand over your back in a crowded room, where he’d wait up for you even if it was stupid late because he wanted to hear about your day. 

Then there was that party. The one you dragged him to, the one he didn’t want to go to because he hated loud music and small talk and watching you drink yourself into bad decisions.

You’d rolled your eyes at him, called him uptight, and he’d muttered something about how you were just looking for an excuse to start a fight. And maybe you were.

It wasn’t supposed to be a big deal. It started over something small — maybe the way you kept refilling your drink, maybe the way he kept checking his watch like he was timing how long he had to tolerate you.

You’d scoffed, rolled your eyes. “Jesus, Spencer, if you don’t want to be here, just go.”

And he’d shrugged. “Maybe I will.”

And that had pissed you off. More than it should have. Because you wanted him to fight you on it. You wanted him to care, to stay because of you, not out of obligation. 

So you pushed a little harder. Tipped your drink back, let the alcohol scrape down your throat, and smirked when you said it. “God, you are so boring sometimes.”

That had done it. Spencer, who usually let things slide, who usually held his temper like a clenched fist, finally let something slip through his teeth.

“Yeah?” he had said, just this side of cruel. “At least I don’t get drunk and make an idiot of myself for attention.”

The words hit like a slap, sharper than the sting of vodka on your tongue. You should’ve been mad, should’ve stormed off, should’ve let the hurt take over. But instead, you smiled. Because there it was, finally, a reaction. The thing you’d been pulling at all night was finally splintered at your feet.

And it didn’t stop there. It followed you home, back at your apartment, where the anger snapped into something hotter. The fight spilled into the walls, into hands grabbing too tight, into gasps swallowed by teeth and tongue. You remember the way he shoved you onto the bed, the way you laughed through it, drunk on the fight and feeling, gasping when he pinned you down, when his hands pushed your wrists into the mattress. You don’t remember what you said, only how it ended — with your back arching, his name breaking off in your throat, pleasure slamming into you so hard you thought you almost mistook it for pain.

“Fuck off, Spencer."

You need him to press you into the doorframe until it bites. To swallow the venom straight from your tongue. To lace your skin with fingerprints, because nothing else sinks deep enough to matter. That’s how this works. That’s how you two translate love.

But he doesn’t move.

Just stands there, chest rising fast like he’s been winded, fingers curled, crushing the impulse in his palm, the impulse to fix this the only way you both know how.

“Jesus. You really think this ends your way?”

He’s bluffing. That’s what you tell yourself. That’s what you have to tell yourself.

“You can stand there and act all righteous, but we both know you like it,” you sneer, chin tilting up. “You like chasing me. You like losing your fucking mind over me.”

He stares.

“Get out.”

No shouting. No shoving. No hands in your hair. No bruising grip on your wrist to make you stay — just two flat, empty words and a door that suddenly feels like a death sentence. 

Your fingers close around your shoes and you barely notice how steady they are. How clear everything feels. No alcohol to blame it on now. Just you.

You don’t look at him. Not when you knock your shoulder against his, not when you open the door like you don’t actually care if he stops you. 

You’re halfway down the hallway when you hear him move. 

You turn. He looks at you like he’s already buried you. And you stand there waiting to be exhumed.

The door doesn’t slam. It just closes. Not locked. Not deadbolted.

You walk away.

A week. Two. Three, if you’re feeling patient.

Then you’ll send the first text. You’ll plant the next seed.

And he’ll let it grow.

💌 masterlist taglist has been disbanned! if you want to get updates about my writings follow and turn notifications on for my account strictly for reblogging my works! @mariasreblogs

[fou4summer]

Hello, first I want to apologize since English is not my strong point and I don't know how well written this is haha but I wanted to ask you something with Baek Harin, like if she and the reader are a couple and everyone sees Harin as a horrible and manipulative person and they don't understand why the reader is still with her but behind all that hard facade when they are alone, Harin is the most adorable person in the world who only wants love and if you could add a little smut since I love how you write, thanks <3

Only for you

baek harin × fem!reader

Synopsis: Everyone thinks that your girlfriend, Harin is toxic and manipulative, but they don't see how soft and sweet she is when you two are alone.

Warnings: NSFW, smoking

Genre: Fluff

Word count: 859

Everyone at your school was scared of Baek Harin. First, because her grandma owned the school, and second, because she was the highest rank in the Pyramid Game. She didn’t really pay attention to anyone, even when Dayeon would beat someone up right in front of her. Your friends often told you that you should break up with her, saying that she was just a horrible and manipulative person.

"Seriously, Y/N, what were you thinking when you agreed to be her girlfriend?" Your friend Yerim said, walking beside you on your way home from school.

"Exactly, she's the worst pick. Even Dayeon would be better." Suji added as Jaeun clung to her side.

"Guys, you just don’t know her when she’s with me. She’s the total opposite of what you’re saying right now." You said while swiping through your phone.

"What, she beats you less?" Your friends all laughed, and you rolled your eyes. Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted Harin behind the school, smoking.

"Guys, I’ll excuse myself first. See you at school tomorrow!" You waved as you ran toward your girlfriend.

"She knows tomorrow is Saturday right?" Jaeun asked, confused, as Suji and Yerim burst out laughing.

You snuck up behind Harin before hugging her around the waist. She turned around when she felt you.

"Hey love. I didn’t see you all day." She said, stepping on her cigarette.

"Yeah, I was with the girls. Sorry!" You replied, and she just nodded, smiling.

"Don’t apologize baby. How about we go for a walk if you’re free?" She asked, and you replied with a loud yes. She laughed at your excitement. You got ice cream, and now she was holding your hand as you talked about the most random things, but she, of course, listened.

"Did you know that the whole school thinks you’re using me?" You suddenly said while finishing your ice cream.

"I’ve heard, yeah. Are they bothering you? Do you want me to get them out of the school?" She asked, making you stop in your tracks.

"Harin! That’ll just prove their point that you're a horrible person! And no, do not do that." She smiled at your face before wiping ice cream from your mouth. Your cheeks turned red, and she seemed to notice because she kissed you right there on the street. You were shocked but kissed her back. She wrapped her arms around your waist, pulling you closer.

"My mom texted me earlier. She went grocery shopping. Do you want to come over for a bit? You know my parents take a while there." You said before she agrees and the two of you hurried to your house. You unlocked the door and let Harin step in. You both took off your shoes and closed the door.

"Would you like to eat something?" You asked. She shook her head, saying that you had already eaten ice cream and that she was full.

-

You decide on watching a movie, but she seemed to have other plans. Five minutes into the movie her hands were already all over you with you in her lap. She unbuttons your uniform taking it off.

"Are you sure love?" She always asked you that no matter what time you're doing it. You nod while caressing her face. She takes her blouse off quickly getting back to kissing you. You take your skirt off before straddling her lap again.

"You're so beautiful today, Y/N." She says while placing soft kisses all over your neck moving to your collarbone.

"Can I take this off?" Her hand placed at the clasp of your bra. You nod, slowly getting impatient. She unclasps your bra, her other hand sneaking in your underwear. Just as she slides your bra off your shoulders, the front door open making you both jump.

“Honey, we’re home!” You both freeze, looking at each other, before you quickly throw on her blouse and get off her lap. She quickly fixes her hair and sits up on your bed. In that moment, your bedroom door opens.

“Y/N we’re ho— Oh Harin! Hey! Y/N didn’t tell us you were coming over today. How are you? How’s your mom?” Your mom asks, greeting your girlfriend.

“My mom is great, probably at work, and I’m great too! How are you doing?” Harin asks, smiling warmly, just like the two of you.

“That’s great to hear sweetheart and im feeling good thank you for asking. How about you stay for dinner?” Your mom suggests. Harin looks at you for a moment and nods in agreement.

“Oh, Y/N, when did you buy that blouse? It looks expensive. You didn’t use your dads credit card, right?” Your mom asks about your, actually, Harin’s blouse and you freeze, not knowing what to say.

“I bought Y/N that for our five month anniversary. I hope you don’t mind.” Harin jumps in, nudging your shoulder for you to agree. You quickly nod, your mom smiles and leaves to make dinner.

“Thanks, great save.” You kiss her cheek before lying down on your bed. She joins you, placing her head on your chest as you continue the movie you were watching. Lets just say you continue something else a few minutes later...

A/N: This is really short, but thank you so much for the request, I hope you like it!<33

[maxdibert]

Why is everyone freaking out about Lily on your page? You're allowed to like and dislike any character on the planet ? Just like everyone else. Also about Lily:

We barely get know her, besides being a mother that died for her child ,any somewhat decent parent would and should do that l, we don't really know her as a person besides being friends with Snape till SWM and then marrying James. I know the fanon version of every Marauder is really chefs kiss and easy to fall in love, but we forgot how far away that is from canon sometimes .

I wished the writers of these fanon characters and fanfics would start writing their own stories because honey you're doing a better job than the actual author, start using your talent. You made me fall in love and cry about characters that are mentioned twice in a whole series.

Lily is like one of the untouchables in the fandom, or at least one of those characters you can never criticize. A lot of Snape fans support her because she’s a fundamental part of his story, Marauders fans adore her because she was James’s girlfriend, and then you have the Golden Trio fans who love her for being Harry’s mother. Everyone adores her for a different reason, but they all have one thing in common: she’s the complement to a male character they actually love. They don’t love Lily for who she is, but for what she represents to each of the men she influenced—and that is misogyny.

We don’t know much about Lily, but what little I do know, I don’t like. When I read the fifth book and the whole SWM thing happened, I wasn’t even a Snape fan, but she still came across as a complete idiot to me, half-smiling at James while he ran around stripping some guy half-naked. And then, when we see The Prince’s Tale and she refuses to forgive him?? I was a teenager at the time, and I still wasn’t a Snape fan, but I thought that was just pure asshole behavior?? Like, you’ve known this guy your whole life, you know he’s been bullied since day one, you know he comes from a shitty home, and you know he said that in a moment of absolute stress—yet you refuse to even listen to him?? Fuck off. Seriously, she seemed incredibly cynical to me.

Like, you can’t call out a guy for hanging out with future DEs but then turn around and marry a literal bully you’ve seen being a piece of garbage your entire life and still act like you have some kind of moral high ground. And what also really annoyed me was how Rowling tried to sell her as a moral example—like… a person like that is just a jerk. I’ve already said I view friendship very differently, so as far as I’m concerned, Lily can stay six feet under with her trash husband—they were two peas in a pod. And I know this is an unpopular opinion even in the Snape fandom, but I don’t care—I cannot stand her. I’ve made an effort to analyze her more seriously, but if you ask for my subjective opinion? She was a total asshole, and that’s why she fit so well with another total asshole.

[arcaneconfessions]

NO, Vi didn't know Jinx was going to kill herself. First off, she just hasn't been privy to a lot of the things that have clued us in to Jinx wanting to die in the first place. She's mostly been seeing Jinx at her most stable - the Jinx she'd gotten to know in ep5 and ep6 was genuinely doing pretty well, probably better than Vi herself had been doing. The only things Vi could possibly have to go off of as far as Jinx being suicidal are Jinx saying "no matter what I do, I just can't seem to die" and "I'm glad it's you, had to be you" in ep3, and the conversation in ep8 ("you don't have to worry about me anymore, there's no good version of me, [I'm going to] break the cycle"). All of those things are vague enough that they could be reasonably interpreted multiple ways, especially if you don't have further context (which Vi for the most part doesn't). The first thing in ep3 could be Jinx saying "I've been trying to kill myself but haven't managed it", or it could just be her taking the piss, given that it's followed by her revealing that she's tricked them and cackling. The second thing could be her saying "I've been waiting to die, I'm glad it's you who's finally going to kill me" or it could be her saying "if this is it, then I'm at least glad it's you". What she says in ep8 could mean "I'm going to go kill myself to escape this existence and so that I don't keep dragging you down with me", OR it could mean literally any number of other things, like "I'm going to run off, don't look for me" or "I'm going to go blow some more shit up because I'm destructive and I don't believe I can change for the better, don't feel bad". But also, crucially, Vi has her own shit going on, and isn't necessarily really hearing or parsing what Jinx is saying at all. These are seriously emotionally intense situations for Vi too. In ep8, she's just woken up to the fact that not only are Isha and (as far as she knows) Vander both dead for good, but that Cait has Jinx in prison. Like, just when she thought she could keep it all together and get all the people she loves on the same side, she's confronted with a situation where she has to choose between Cait and Jinx AGAIN. Her going down to the bunker to try to convince Jinx to help out is her last-ditch effort towards being able to have both her sister AND the woman she obviously still loves in her life. She's thinking that if she just frees Jinx and Jinx uses her "explosive potential for good" and shows Cait and Piltover that she's changed, then maybe it can all still work out somehow. Jinx sucker-punching her and leaving her in the cell is spitting in the face of that whole fantasy. Like, yes, sure, what Jinx is saying should maybe be raising some red flags - but Vi isn't in a place to pay attention, because from her perspective she's just lost everyone. She went behind Cait's back to free Jinx because she thought she could get her to help, but instead Jinx has locked her in a cell and fucked off. And we know that this is the case - that she's stuck thinking about how she's fucked everything up and lost everyone rather than about what Jinx said - because that's literally what she says at the beginning of the scene with Cait: "I really believed she'd help. Say it: you told me so, I went behind your back, I choose wrong every time; and because of it, I've lost everyone". Like, I'm convinced that the people who are saying Vi knew about Jinx being suicidal just straight up didn't listen to the dialogue in this scene. I think it's made pretty damn clear here that she's in her head about how she's fucked things up, and NOT thinking about what Jinx meant. "It doesn't make sense that Vi would prioritize having sex with Cait over trying to find her obviously suicidal sister" - right, it only makes sense if Vi didn't know she was suicidal. Which she didn't. As should be obvious from the things she says, if nothing else.

.

[merymoonbeam]

I know you handle all of this in stride and aren’t bothered, but I find it really troubling that somebody with a very large platform is calling out people who are vibing in the fandom with significantly less reach. 70k people are seeing these posts for the sake of “calling out” something she laughed about last week. 70k people are seeing names and handles without understanding the context of what occurred in anons saying we will be “saved” by listening to her. When you have a platform that large, you have a responsibility that is not shared by people whose reach is a drop in the bucket. It’s really irresponsible and those on the receiving end of these canva slides don’t have huge platforms of followers to hide behind when said followers inevitably hear one side of a story and come after people with small platforms. Idk. I guess I feel like that responsibility should be taken way more seriously. It feels manipulative tbh. The faux outrage about something you were laughing about last week is really something. Is it funny or is it unsafe? Are you being held accountable to the influence you inarguably do have bc you have so many followers or are you constantly being attacked? Are you baiting people and then getting angry that people respond to your baiting? Is it baiting or is it harmful to you? Is it amusing or are you scared? Are you the victim or are you the aggressor? Are you admitting to gaslighting people and then getting upset by the reaction you receive? If you’re truly concerned and bothered, you wouldn’t share this bs with 70k people. If you truly felt unsafe, you would take a different approach. It’s all irresponsible and highly manipulative.

This.

Tbh I can handle all of these nonsense from these people bc I simply do not care but I know people who were doxxed. Who were bullied out of the fandom. Artist who were bullied simply wanting to draw elriel....it goes on and on.

It is just frustrating. I know people who tried to talk with her, tried to reason but she will simply see none. So why should we show the same grace to her when she is known for being number one cause of all our bullying?

And simply it comes to this...one week she is "having fun baiting people" and next week it is "there are fucking boundaries"

Which one is it? Is she the victim or is she the one baiting people bc you cant simply be both...you cant expect to "bait" people and then when they show you the same grace you cant suddenly be the victim...it doesnt work that way.

These are one week apart...

[blackened-angel]

I'm glad i'm not the only person disappointed/disinterested with the Netflix DMC. I honestly hate what what they did with Lady. she didn't have to be hyper sexed up, but it does such a disservice to her charater to have her be a solider/government worker. Let her be the cleaver business women she is.

Regarding her design, I was concerned that she would look much worse because it's an adaptation that's handled by Westerners for the "modern audience" and I thought that meant Lady will become a girlboss, though she might be like that, we'll see. Like, she is a girlboss already, but not the kind that you might have seen in western media.

I'm glad she didn't end up having bunch of piercings or that hairstyle that has become associated with "strong woman" and by that I mean a side shave.

I'm personally not a fan of the sci-fi genre so I don't like her cyber-punk outfit that was stated to be inspired by the character from the game "Oni".

I mean, the group she's part of looks like a cast from a shooter game like Concord, Overwatch, things like that...That character on the left with makeup looks so ugly...

Another critique I have is her voice, more precisely her delivery.

Like when I listened to her, she sounded flat in my opinion. I looked up her VA and although she s apparently a known actress in shows and movies, she only had one voice acting role and this is her second one. So yeah, this person, Scout Taylor-Compton isn't someone from the anime/video game dubbing industry.

But, I haven't watched the stuff she played in so I can't judge her acting skills, but I think that the problem was how she was directed to say the lines we heard in the trailer.

Lady doesn't like demons and I thought she was speaking too calmly when I think she could have been louder, angrier if she was confronting a demon, the subject of her hatred.

I think it would have been more impactful in my opinion, because it would have conveyed much better that she hates demons.

We never got her backstory because the DMC3 manga was cancelled but Shankar said that he was allowed to see materials from Capcom, consulted with people regarding on what her backstory was supposed to be, however, due to the fact that this adaptation is non-canon, I personally don't believe that she trained with the military and worked for the government.

Unfortunately, from the guidebooks I've read, there was no mention of how Lady was became skilled in fighting

It should have been in the manga and it sucks that we won't get to know her story in an adaptation that would be canon to the series...

Yeah, so she doesn't have the charm from the series. If you read 3142 Graphic Arts, her school outfit was meant to appeal to the Japanese audience and it's the series in general because it is a Japanese product after all. Yes, she was a high school girl who could carry a huge rocket launcher.

DMC doesn't take itself seriously.

I'm disappointed that nowadays, for someone who grew up with anime and manga and came to appreciate Japanese culture, that nowadays there is a demand of making everything appeal to the "global audience." That's why I refuse to even call this anime, like I said in my post here.

So yeah, I was concerned for Lady, because female characters from Asian media have been treated with hate by Westerners, demanding censorship for them but when it comes to male characters, it's okay if they are sexualized.

I'm glad her appearance isn't too changed from the series but we'll have to see about her personality...

[lightdancingwords]

Second Chances: Forever - Part Nine of ?

Pairings: Beau Arlen x Y/N Female reader Series Summary: A chance meeting in the grocery store brought a whirlwind of change to Beau Arlen’s life—change he had no issues with whatsoever. A second chance at life, love, family—a second chance at forever. Word Count: 4,890 Tags/Warnings: Honestly, just expect tons of fluff at this point, haha A/N: Comments, Likes, Reblogs, Kind feedback are always highly appreciated. Please let me know if you want to be added to the tag list!

NOTE: It’s here! Welcome, welcome to Second Chances: Forever! I have no idea how long this story will go on, and that is okay with me! I’ve been loving and enjoying writing Beau and his little corner of life! So like I said, until I get burnt out (unlikely) or run out of ideas (also unlikely), it’s ongoing! Divider: credit to @sweetmelodygraphics

Chapter Nine: Being Sentimental

The hum of the tires against the highway filled the space between Y/N and Emily as they drove toward the airport, the Montana sky stretching wide and endless above them.

For a while, neither of them spoke. It was a comfortable silence, one that didn’t need to be filled.

Emily sat in the passenger seat, her fingers drumming against her knee as she stared out the window. Y/N could tell she was thinking—a lot.

Finally, Emily let out a slow breath. “I’m gonna miss you guys.”

Y/N smiled, glancing over at her. “You know you’re welcome anytime, right?”

Emily nodded, smirking. “Yeah. And at the rate Dad’s going, I should probably just move in before he keeps popping out siblings for me.”

Y/N snorted, shaking her head. “Listen, that was not exactly planned.”

Emily chuckled. “Yeah, well, you did marry a Texan. I hear they got notoriously determined sperm.”

Y/N wheezed. “Oh my God. I regret ever telling him that.”

Emily grinned. “Nope. Too late. It’s a legacy now.”

Y/N groaned dramatically. “Jesus Christ.”

Emily laughed but then sighed, leaning her head against the seat. “Seriously, though… I like being home. Feels… good.”

Y/N glanced at her again, noting the way her voice had softened. “Yeah?”

Emily hesitated, then shrugged. “Yeah. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I like school, but… sometimes I feel like I miss too much.”

Y/N reached over, squeezing her hand. “You always have a place here, sweetheart. No matter where life takes you.”

Emily exhaled, squeezing her back. “I know.”

The silence stretched again, this time a little heavier.

Emily bit her lip, her voice quieter when she spoke next. “Can I ask you something?”

Y/N nodded. “Of course.”

Emily hesitated, her fingers fidgeting in her lap. “Do you ever feel like… you don’t know what the hell you’re doing?”

Y/N snorted, but there was genuine amusement behind it. “Oh, all the time.”

Emily let out a small chuckle. “Really?”

Y/N smiled, keeping her eyes on the road. “Emily, I love my life. I love Beau, I love our kids… but some days? I have no idea what I’m doing.”

Emily blinked, tilting her head. “But you always seem like you do.”

Y/N sighed, shrugging. “That’s because I fake it really well.”

Emily smirked. “So parenting is just… faking confidence?”

“Pretty much,” Y/N admitted. “But it’s also about showing up. Even when you’re tired. Even when you don’t have all the answers.”

Emily exhaled, nodding slowly. “Guess that applies to a lot of things.”

Y/N gave her a knowing look. “Yeah, sweetheart. It does.”

Emily was quiet for a long moment, staring out the window. “Sometimes, I feel like I have to have everything figured out right now. Like, if I don’t know exactly where I’m going, I’ll get lost.”

Y/N smiled gently. “You will get lost sometimes.”

Emily looked at her, brow furrowed.

Y/N squeezed her hand again. “But that’s how you figure out where you really want to go.”

Emily let out a slow breath, staring at their hands. “Yeah. Maybe.”

Y/N smirked. “And worst case? You always have home to come back to.”

Emily smiled, something warm settling in her chest. “Yeah. I know.”

And for the first time in a long time, she felt okay not having all the answers.

Because maybe figuring it out along the way… was the whole point.

The airport buzzed with the usual blend of distant announcements, rolling suitcases, and quiet conversations as Y/N and Emily made their way toward security.

Emily had her bag slung over one shoulder, her boarding pass tucked into her jacket pocket. She looked relaxed, but Y/N knew better. She could see the way Emily’s fingers fidgeted at the strap of her bag, the way she kept glancing at the big departure board like she was stalling.

Y/N smirked. “You know, you could just miss your flight.”

Emily snorted, shaking her head. “Oh yeah, and explain to my professors that I couldn’t make it back because I got suckered into staying longer?”

Y/N raised a brow. “You weren’t suckered. You loved every chaotic second of it.”

Emily huffed, but the smirk tugging at her lips gave her away. “Maybe.”

They reached the security checkpoint, and Emily sighed, shifting her bag higher on her shoulder.

“Well,” she muttered, rubbing the back of her neck. “Guess this is it.”

Y/N smiled, pulling her into a hug. “For now.”

Emily melted into it, squeezing tight before pulling back. “Tell Caleb to stop throwing his food at Dad. And tell Eliza that no, you can’t actually bring her back a cow.”

Y/N snickered. “Oh, I absolutely will.”

Emily exhaled, rocking back on her heels. “And tell Dad—” She hesitated, her voice softer now. “Tell him I love him.”

Y/N’s heart squeezed. “Why don’t you just call him and say that?”

Emily rolled her eyes. “Because he’ll get all emotional and gruff about it and then change the subject.”

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. “Yeah, okay, fair point.”

Emily hesitated again, then sighed, pulling Y/N into one more hug. “Thanks. For everything.”

Y/N squeezed her tight. “Always, sweetheart.”

Emily stepped back, her eyes lingering for a moment before she cleared her throat. “Alright. Go before I actually miss my flight.”

Y/N smirked. “Call me when you land.”

Emily rolled her eyes but grinned. “Yes, Mom.”

Y/N watched as Emily turned toward security, offering one last wave before disappearing into the line.

As she walked back toward the exit, Y/N smiled, already looking forward to the next time Emily came home.

Because she would.

She always did.

And no matter how far she went, she would always have a place here.

With them.

With family.

By the time Y/N pulled into the driveway, the afternoon sun was stretching long shadows across the yard, the warmth of home settling around her like a familiar embrace.

As she stepped inside, the scent of coffee and something slightly burnt filled the air.

Beau was standing in the kitchen, stirring something in a pan with a very concentrated look on his face. Caleb was bouncing happily in his playpen, babbling to himself, while Eliza sat on the counter, swinging her legs as she supervised.

Y/N smirked. “Should I be worried?”

Beau looked up, offering her a slow grin. “Depends. How attached are you to the idea of edible food?”

Eliza giggled. “Daddy makin’ grilled cheese!”

Y/N raised a brow. “And… you burnt the grilled cheese?”

Beau sighed, turning back to the stove. “Listen, I got distracted.”

Eliza nodded very seriously. “I talked too much.”

Y/N laughed, setting her bag down as she walked over to Beau, wrapping her arms around his waist from behind, pressing a kiss to his back. “I love you, even if you can’t make grilled cheese.”

Beau smirked, reaching down to squeeze her hand. “Glad my culinary failures don’t diminish your affections, darlin’.”

Y/N glanced at the playpen, smiling as Caleb squealed when he saw her. “Hey, birthday boy.”

Caleb clapped his chubby hands, bouncing. “Mama!”

Y/N scooped him up, pressing a kiss to his soft curls. “Did Daddy and Sissy take care of you while I was gone?”

Caleb babbled something very serious, and Eliza huffed. “I tried, Mama. But Daddy made a mess.”

Y/N bit back a laugh. “I believe it.”

Beau turned, pointing his spatula at her. “Alright, that’s enough slander. This kitchen is under control.”

Y/N smirked, setting Caleb on her hip. “Uh-huh. Sure, Sheriff.”

Beau huffed but didn’t argue, instead pressing a quick kiss to her temple. “How was the airport?”

Y/N leaned against the counter, watching as he plated the slightly-overdone grilled cheese (which Eliza was still watching like it was a crime scene). “Good. Emily got through security fine. But…” She hesitated, running her fingers through Caleb’s hair. “I don’t know. She seemed… hesitant about leaving.”

Beau slowed, setting the pan down. “Yeah?”

Y/N nodded. “She loves school, but I think she’s starting to feel like she’s missing too much here.” She glanced at him, smirking slightly. “I may have joked about her just coming back for good, and she didn’t immediately shut it down.”

Beau rubbed a hand over his jaw, eyes thoughtful. “Huh.”

Y/N raised a brow. “Huh? That’s all you got?”

Beau leaned against the counter beside her, his green eyes drifting toward the living room where Eliza was now dramatically inspecting the grilled cheese. “It ain’t a bad thought.”

Y/N studied him. “You seriously thinking about it?”

Beau exhaled, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. “Well, hell, darlin’. We’re already talkin’ about how we’re gonna need a bigger house.” He gestured between them. “This family ain’t getting any smaller.”

Y/N smirked. “No, it is not.”

Beau chuckled, shaking his head. “And Emily? She’s got roots here now. A family that actually feels like home.” His voice softened. “Maybe she’d do better finishing school here.”

Y/N tilted her head. “You thinking about talking to her about it?”

Beau shrugged, but there was a thoughtfulness behind his eyes. “Maybe. Just to see where her head’s at.” He glanced at Y/N. “How would you feel about it?”

Y/N smiled, running a hand over Caleb’s back as he snuggled against her shoulder. “I’d love it. Emily belongs here, Beau. And if this is where she wants to be, I’d want to help her make it happen.”

Beau exhaled, nodding. “Yeah.” He smirked, nudging her. “But you know if she moves back, she’s gonna constantly remind me about how I lost to a one-year-old in a cake fight.”

Y/N laughed, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Oh, without a doubt.”

Beau groaned. “Jesus Christ.”

Y/N grinned, resting her head against his shoulder. “You love it.”

Beau sighed, pulling her closer, his hand sliding protectively over her stomach, over the growing life they had created. “Yeah, darlin’. I really do.”

And as Caleb snuggled into her chest, as Eliza finally decided the grilled cheese was “good enough” and took a dramatic bite, as the hum of their home settled around them—

Beau knew one thing for sure.

Whatever the future held, whatever decisions were ahead��

They’d figure it out.

Together.

The warm glow of Eliza’s bedside lamp cast soft shadows across her room as she sat on her bed, still wiggling her toes in protest of bedtime. She was freshly bathed, her curls damp against her cheeks, her stuffed wolf tucked under one arm.

Beau sat on the edge of her bed, rolling up her blanket as if tucking her in properly would keep her from escaping. Y/N knelt beside them, smoothing down Eliza’s wild curls.

“Alright, wolf-child,” Beau murmured, raising a brow. “We had a long day, and it’s time to sleep.”

Eliza pouted dramatically. “But I’m not tired.”

Y/N smirked, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Oh, really? Because I remember a certain someone barely making it through movie night.”

Eliza huffed, crossing her arms. “It was too cozy!”

Beau chuckled, tucking the blanket around her like a burrito. “Uh-huh. Sure it was.”

Eliza wiggled her nose, squinting at them. “You doin’ grown-up talk?”

Y/N bit back a laugh. “Actually, baby, we do have something we want to tell you.”

Eliza’s eyes widened with intrigue. She sat up immediately, nearly knocking her stuffed wolf onto the floor. “What is it?!”

Beau glanced at Y/N, and she smiled, nodding for him to continue.

Beau exhaled, running a gentle hand over Eliza’s hair. “Well, sweetheart… you remember when Caleb was in Mama’s belly before he was born?”

Eliza nodded very seriously. “Uh-huh. I ‘member. He kicked you, Mama!”

Y/N laughed. “He did.”

Beau smirked, tapping her nose. “Well, guess what? There’s gonna be another baby in Mama’s belly.”

Eliza froze.

She blinked twice, her little mouth slightly open. “Wait… like another Caleb?”

Y/N chuckled. “Well, not exactly like Caleb, baby. But a new baby.”

Eliza’s face lit up, her entire body vibrating with excitement. “I’M GONNA BE A BIG SISTER AGAIN?!”

Beau laughed, catching her before she could fully launch herself out of the bed. “Whoa, whoa, sweetheart—indoor voice!”

Eliza giggled, grabbing Y/N’s hand. “Mama! There’s a baby in there?!”

Y/N nodded, guiding Eliza’s tiny hand to rest over her still-flat belly. “Yep, sweetheart. The baby is still really little, but it’s growing.”

Eliza stared at her hand on Y/N’s stomach, her eyes wide, filled with something pure and wonderstruck.

Then, suddenly—

Her entire expression changed into something very determined.

Her head snapped toward Beau. “We gotta get ‘em a stuffed animal!”

Beau choked on a laugh. “Uh—”

“A wolf one!” Eliza continued, eyes dead serious. “So they can have a pack like me and Cay-bub!”

Y/N pressed a hand to her heart, her chest aching from the sheer love bursting from their little girl.

Beau smirked, brushing a curl out of Eliza’s face. “That is a great idea, baby.”

Eliza beamed, bouncing slightly under her covers. “Can I talk to ‘em? Like I did with Cay-bub?”

Y/N smiled, placing her hand back on her stomach. “Of course, baby. They can’t hear you yet, but soon they will.”

Eliza scooted forward, leaning very close to Y/N’s belly, her tiny hands pressing against her.

Then, in the softest, most earnest whisper—

“Hi, baby. It’s me, ‘Liza. I love you already.”

Y/N’s throat tightened, her eyes burning as she blinked back tears.

Beau exhaled sharply, his own jaw clenching as he reached over and ran a hand through Eliza’s curls.

“Baby girl,” he murmured, his voice thick, “you are gonna be the best big sister again.”

Eliza beamed, looking between them. “Like the best best?”

Y/N cupped her cheek, smiling through her emotion. “The very best best, sweetheart.”

Eliza grinned so wide she nearly tipped over before snuggling under the blanket, suddenly very determined to get to sleep.

“Okay! I gotta rest so I can be ready for baby stuff!”

Beau laughed, tucking her in again. “You do that, sweetheart.”

Eliza let out a tiny yawn, her stuffed wolf pulled tight to her chest. “Love you, Mama. Love you, Daddy.”

Y/N kissed her forehead. “Love you too, baby girl.”

Beau brushed her curls one last time. “Sleep tight, wolf-child.”

As they stepped out of her room, shutting the door behind them, Beau exhaled, rubbing a hand over his face.

Y/N sighed, leaning against his side. “Well… that went better than expected.”

Beau chuckled, wrapping an arm around her waist. “Hell, darlin’. She’s already more prepared than we are.”

Y/N smirked. “Well, if she’s ready, then I guess we gotta get with the program.”

Beau pressed a slow, lingering kiss to her forehead. “Guess so.”

As they walked down the hall, the soft hum of their children’s breathing filling the quiet of their home, Beau knew—

Their family?

Their pack?

It was just getting bigger.

And he couldn’t wait.

The house had finally settled.

Eliza was out cold in her bed, no doubt dreaming about stuffed wolves and baby siblings. Caleb was tucked in tight, breathing deep and slow in his crib. And Emily, though she was miles away now, had sent a text confirming she’d landed safely.

It was quiet now.

The kind of quiet that only came at the very end of the day, when all the chaos had faded and it was just them.

Y/N sat on the edge of the bed, slowly running a hand over her belly, still processing how very real this all was.

Beau walked in, tugging his shirt off, leaving him in just his sweatpants as he ran a hand through his hair, exhaling a deep, contented sigh.

“Tired, Sheriff?” Y/N teased, smirking up at him.

Beau chuckled, climbing into bed beside her, immediately wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her against him. “Darlin’, I wrangled kids, cooked, and survived a life-altering conversation with a four-year-old today.”

Y/N giggled, curling into him. “You also lost a battle against oatmeal this morning.”

Beau groaned, tipping his head back against the pillows. “Jesus Christ, don’t remind me.”

Y/N laughed, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “You love it.”

Beau smirked, tightening his arms around her. “Yeah. I do.”

For a while, they just lay there, tangled in each other, their breaths slow and synchronized.

Beau’s fingers traced light, absentminded patterns over Y/N’s stomach, over the place where their baby was growing.

“Y’know,” he murmured after a moment, his voice low and thick with warmth, “it still don’t feel real.”

Y/N exhaled, running a hand over his chest. “I know what you mean.”

Beau let out a small chuckle, shaking his head. “I mean, hell, we just wrapped our heads around two kids, and now we’re back at it again.”

Y/N smirked, tilting her chin up to kiss his cheek. “You say that like you don’t love making babies with me, Sheriff.”

Beau groaned, pressing his face into her neck. “Woman, you cannot say things like that when I’m tryin’ to have a sentimental moment.”

Y/N giggled, threading her fingers through his hair. “I can and I will.”

Beau sighed dramatically, rolling onto his back and pulling her with him, settling her against his chest. “Jesus Christ.”

Y/N smiled, pressing a kiss over his heart. “Okay, okay. Sentimental moment. Go.”

Beau chuckled, shaking his head before running his fingers up and down her spine. “I was just thinkin’… We started all this together, and now, here we are, about to add one more.”

Y/N smiled against his skin, tracing slow circles over his chest. “Crazy, huh?”

Beau exhaled, his fingers drifting back down to her stomach. “Not crazy, darlin’. Just… big. The kind of big that changes your whole damn world.”

Y/N lifted her head, searching his face. “Are you worried?”

Beau was quiet for a second, his green eyes soft, thoughtful.

Then, slowly, he shook his head. “No,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her temple. “I ain’t worried. Because I got you.”

For a long moment, silence reigned between them, sweet and intimate.

Y/N smiled against his skin, her fingers tracing over his chest. “You’re quiet.”

Beau hummed low in his throat, his voice a lazy rumble against the quiet of the room. “Just thinkin’.”

Y/N smirked, tilting her head up to meet his gaze. “That’s dangerous.”

Beau chuckled, shaking his head. “Smartass.”

Y/N grinned, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “What are you thinking about?”

Beau exhaled, his fingers stilling on her stomach. “About how fast all this happened.”

Y/N tilted her head. “You mean us?”

Beau shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. “No, darlin’. I mean, yeah, us, but more than that.” His voice softened, his green eyes dark with something deep. “One day, I was just me. Livin’ my life, doin’ my job. Then I met you, and suddenly, I had you and Eliza. Then Caleb. And now…” His palm flattened against her stomach, warm and solid. “Now, we’re doin’ it again.”

Y/N sighed, running her fingers through his short hair. “It’s a lot, huh?”

Beau chuckled, shaking his head. “Not a lot, darlin’. Just big. The kinda big that changes your whole damn world.”

Y/N swallowed, pressing her forehead to his. “Are you… worried?”

Beau was quiet for a moment. Not because he was worried, but because he wanted to get this right.

Then, slowly, he shook his head. “No,” he murmured, his voice steady. “Because I got you.”

Y/N’s breath hitched.

Beau tilted her chin up, brushing his lips over hers, slow and sure. “And I love this family we built. Every bit of it.”

Y/N melted into him, her hands sliding over his bare shoulders. “I love you, too, Beau.”

Beau smiled against her lips, his fingers moving again, tracing slow circles over her stomach, over the tiny life growing inside her.

After a long, comfortable silence, he let out a small chuckle.

Y/N raised a brow. “What?”

Beau smirked, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Just thinkin’ about Eliza’s reaction earlier.”

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. “Of course she immediately decided the baby needed a stuffed wolf.”

Beau grinned. “Damn right, she did.”

Y/N sighed contentedly, curling deeper into his warmth. “She’s gonna be such a good big sister again.”

Beau’s expression softened, his hand still resting protectively over her stomach. “Yeah. She really is.”

And as the night stretched around them, as love and forever settled deep in their bones, they both knew—

No matter what came next, no matter how big their world got—

They’d always have this.

Each other.

Their home.

Their family.

And that was all they’d ever need.

The first rays of the Montana sun had barely stretched across the sky when the chaos began.

Beau had exactly one goal: get dressed, drink one cup of coffee, and make it out the door on time for work.

The universe?

It had other plans.

The moment he stepped out of the shower, towel slung low around his hips, Eliza’s voice echoed through the house—

“MAMA! DADDY! CALEB IS THROWIN’ TOAST!”

Beau froze.

He closed his eyes for one long second, exhaled, then muttered under his breath, “Jesus Christ.”

Then came the second round of evidence—

THWAP.

A very distinct splat sounded from the kitchen.

Then, giggles.

And then—

“CALEB, NO!”

That was Y/N’s voice.

Beau groaned, grabbing his clothes and moving fast, because if there was one thing he knew about his son, it was that Caleb thrived in the two-second window it took to turn your back.

By the time Beau got to the kitchen, the crime scene was already in full display.

Caleb was covered in toast crumbs and sticky jam, his little hands clapping happily as he sat in his high chair, looking way too pleased with himself.

The floor?

Absolute devastation.

A single piece of toast lay face-down in a puddle of spilled juice.

Y/N stood near the counter, arms crossed, lips pressed tight, clearly trying to decide whether to scold Caleb or just accept defeat.

Eliza, however, had already made up her mind.

She was standing on the opposite side of the table, hands on her hips, staring at her little brother like a disapproving sheriff surveying a crime scene.

“CAY-BUB,” she declared dramatically. “YOU MAKIN’ A MESS.”

Caleb let out a delighted squeal, his chubby fingers immediately grabbing for another piece of toast.

Beau exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand down his face. “Son.”

Caleb froze, his little green eyes snapping to his father.

Then, grinning, he lifted the entire piece of toast over his head.

Y/N’s eyes widened.

“CALEB, DON’T YOU—”

SPLAT.

The toast hit the floor with a wet slap.

There was a full three seconds of absolute silence.

Then—

Beau exhaled deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Y/N groaned.

Eliza gasped.

And Caleb?

Caleb clapped his sticky little hands together like he had just won a gold medal in Olympic toast-throwing.

Beau sighed, shaking his head. “Alright, son. Now you’re just doin’ it on purpose.”

Caleb squealed, smacking the high chair tray again, sending a few stray crumbs flying.

Eliza let out a dramatic sigh, arms still crossed. “Daddy, he naughty.”

Beau shot a look at Y/N. “This one takes after you.”

Y/N snorted, tossing a dish towel at him. “Oh, really?”

Beau smirked, bending down to start mopping up the disaster. “Hell yeah, darlin’. You’re the chaos in this relationship.”

Y/N chuckled, grabbing a damp cloth and wiping down Caleb’s face, who immediately tried to squirm away. “Well, Sheriff, looks like your son inherited your stubbornness.”

Beau huffed, tossing the now-ruined toast in the trash. “Great. Love that for us.”

With breakfast chaos officially handled (mostly), Beau was finally dressed and grabbing his badge, ready to head out the door.

Eliza ran up, arms wide, demanding, “HUG BEFORE YOU GO!”

Beau grinned, scooping her up and squeezing her tight. “Now that’s how I like to start my day.”

Eliza giggled, then pulled back, very serious all of a sudden. “Daddy?”

Beau raised a brow. “Yeah, sweetheart?”

Eliza tilted her head, big brown eyes full of curiosity. “When the baby gets big, can I show ‘em how to make a big mess like Cay-bub?”

Beau choked on a laugh. “Absolutely not.”

Eliza pouted. “But I gonna be a good big sister.”

Y/N chuckled from the kitchen. “You are, baby. But let’s not encourage food fights, okay?”

Eliza sighed dramatically. “Fine.”

Beau kissed the top of her head, setting her down. “Alright, darlin’, I gotta go before y’all rope me into more trouble.”

Y/N walked up to him, arms crossing playfully over her chest. “And yet, somehow, trouble always follows you.”

Beau smirked, tugging her close by the waist. “Maybe I just got a thing for beautiful women who bring a little chaos into my life.”

Y/N laughed, looping her arms around his neck. “You love it.”

Beau kissed her slow, soft, lingering—long enough for Eliza to let out a dramatic “Ewww!” in the background.

When he pulled away, he grinned, tapping Y/N’s chin. “Damn right, I do.”

With one last quick kiss to her forehead, he grabbed his hat and badge, tipping his hat at Eliza. “Alright, wolf-child. Keep your mama outta trouble.”

Eliza nodded seriously. “I will, Daddy.”

Beau shot Y/N a look as he opened the door. “Now that I gotta see.”

Y/N laughed, waving him off. “Go be a good Sheriff, honey.”

Beau grinned, stepping outside. “Always, darlin’.”

And with that, he was off—leaving Y/N in the doorway, smiling as she watched him go, the warmth of their morning lingering like a promise.

Their days were never quiet.

Never simple.

But God, did she love this life.

And she wouldn’t trade it for the world.

Beau stepped into the sheriff’s department, coffee in hand, exhaling slowly as he tried to shake off the whirlwind that had been his morning.

Between flying toast, Eliza’s interrogation about whether she could teach the new baby how to make messes, and Caleb’s ever-growing talent for chaos, it had been a feat just getting out the door.

And yet, as much as he grumbled about it, as much as he sighed and ran a hand down his face every morning—he wouldn’t change a damn thing.

Because that was his family. His beautiful, messy, chaotic world.

But right now? Right now, he needed to focus on being Sheriff.

Jenny barely looked up from her desk as he walked in, flipping through a report. “So, how was breakfast, Sheriff?”

Beau took a slow sip of coffee, watching her carefully. “Why do you sound like you already know the answer?”

Jenny smirked, finally looking up. “Because I do.”

Beau sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Let’s just say I’m rethinking letting Caleb have toast in the morning.”

Jenny snorted. “So, it’s official. Your one-year-old is winning the battle of wills.”

Beau huffed, dropping into his chair. “It ain’t a battle—”

Jenny raised a brow.

Beau sighed again. “Fine. It might be a battle.”

Jenny grinned. “Mm-hmm. And how’s Eliza handling the baby news?”

Beau leaned back, a slow smile tugging at his lips. “She demanded we get the baby a stuffed wolf so they could have a pack.”

Jenny laughed, shaking her head. “Jesus, she’s got personality.”

Beau smirked. “Gets that from her mama.”

Jenny leaned back in her chair, studying him for a moment. “Y’know, you seem… good today.”

Beau raised a brow. “I am good.”

Jenny tilted her head. “No, I mean—like really good. A couple of weeks ago, you were carrying so much on your shoulders. That case with the baby—” She hesitated, watching his reaction. “It got to you.”

Beau exhaled, rolling his shoulders before nodding. “Yeah. It did.”

Jenny studied him. “And now?”

Beau let out a slow breath. “Now… I got a family to go home to. I got a baby on the way. I got a wild-ass one-year-old and a too-smart-for-her-own-good four-year-old keepin’ me on my toes.” His lips twitched. “And I got a wife who somehow makes it all feel easy.”

Jenny smirked. “So, basically, you won the lottery.”

Beau chuckled, shaking his head. “Damn right, I did.”

Jenny leaned forward, resting her elbows on the desk. “So, what’s next for the Arlen family?”

Beau exhaled, thinking. “Well, Y/N did casually drop the fact that we’re gonna need a bigger house.”

Jenny snorted. “Casually?”

Beau sighed. “Okay, less casually, more ‘Hey, we’re outgrowing this place, and you agreed last night, Sheriff.’”

Jenny grinned. “And she’s right.”

Beau huffed. “I know she is.”

Jenny tilted her head. “Y’know… If you’re already thinking about making big changes, maybe it’s time to have that talk with Emily.”

Beau was already shaking his head. “She’s got school—”

“She also has a family here,” Jenny interrupted, her voice softer. “And it sounds like she wants to be around more. Maybe finishing school here isn’t a bad idea.”

Beau sighed, running a hand down his face. “You sound just like Y/N.”

Jenny smirked. “That’s ‘cause Y/N is smarter than you.”

Beau groaned, standing. “Alright, I walked into that one.”

Jenny chuckled, going back to her reports. “You sure did, Sheriff.”

As Beau walked into his office, shaking his head but smiling, he knew one thing—

The life he had?

It was only getting better.

And damn if that didn’t make him the luckiest man alive.

Tag List: @spxideyver, @deadlymistletoe, @bitchykittenconnoisseur, @aarpfashionvictim, @stoneyggirl2

@foxyjwls007, @katastrophicmind, @globetrotter28, @deansimpalababy, @daisychaingirl

@nancymcl, @deans-baby-momma, @kickingitwithkirk, @kmc1989, @ozwriterchick

Want to be a part of this tag list or others? Comment here and I'll add you! And check out my other stories that are currently being written!

[sunnydalelibrarian]

Buffy Rewatch: Season 2: Episodes 5-8

2x05: "Reptile Boy"

Oh look at them being kids and having fun and having a normal, non-traumatising evening! Why is Xander actually better at braiding hair than Buffy though?

"We could go to the Bronze, sneak in our own teabags and ask for hot water!" "Hop off the outlaw train, Will, before you land us all in jail!"

Hands down the scariest thing a girl can be running from: a group of entitled men

Oh bless Giles, he's trying so hard. "Don't think sitting there pouting is going to get to me, because it won't!" (quietly, lying) "It's not getting to me." He's such a dad.

For once, this show is so on the ball. Of course the college guy showing an interest in a high school girl is up to no good, of course he's a predatory creep, of course the "nice guy" is actually the worst one

Why does Angel stand like a baby pangolin?

He can be so patronising with Buffy sometimes

"No. When you kiss me, I want to die." This. Fucking. Line.

Cordelia telling Buffy she respects her too much to be dishonest!

"Oh, Buffy, I don't think so. Frying pan, fire?" I know Xander is just being jealous but he's actually so right for once

"Well, say it." "I'm not gonna say it-" "You lied to Giles!" "-Cause she will." This into "I can't believe she lied to Giles. My world is all askew." Willow's indignation here is adorable

This episode always makes me more uneasy than the rest because it hammers home the reality that even for a girl like Buffy, who can fight vampires and demons, the thing that poses a real danger to her is That Kind of Man

"The reflection thing that you don't have... Angel, how do you shave?" Oh I love Willow so much

"You bitch. I'll serve you to him in pieces." "Tom, you talk too much!" Atta girl!!!

Another Giles dad talk! Not him admitting that he pushes her so hard because he just wants her to be able to protect herself because he knows what she has to face

2x06: "Halloween"

Way to go, baby, use the squash as a weapon!

Seriously Snyder, stop manhandling your students!

Honestly, I wouldn't mind taking some kids trick-or-treating

I love how Halloween is quiet for vampires. Does this imply that Halloween costumes actually serve their folkloric function of deterring the undead?

Xander, get your shit together, next time Buffy should really just let you get punched!

All this talk about Angel never wanting someone like Cordelia... 🥺 like "I know something you don't know..."

"I enjoy cross-referencing." God, this man definitely needs someone like Jenny, someone has to remind him how to live a little!

"What is it that you're after?" The way Giles knows Buffy's up to something, it's like when you're being all nice to your dad and he's like *suspicious* "what do you want?"

I love how down bad he is for Jenny in an episode she isn't even in 😂

Oh someone take Buffy to a ball, that girl needs to have fun

Seeing those kids in the costume shop knowing what's about to happen is disconcerting

Ethan Rayne! How I love to hate this motherfucker

Oh Buffy looks so pretty!

Why is Xander actually so good with these kids??

Ah, Ethan Rayne doesn't know his Latin! Shame! You can pronounce the "J" correctly but not the "V"?

"She couldn't have dressed up like Xena?"

I'm losing it at Giles' reaction to Willow walking through the wall! 😂😂 I forgot how funny this episode is, I love it

"The ghost of what exactly?" 😂 Giles is on top of everything but Willow in that outfit is what confuses him

How quickly they figured it out though!

The look on Giles' face when she says "Ethan's", he's like surely fucking not...

"Willow, get out of here now." Oh, shit's about to get real!!

Not Spike and his little army of baby demons! 😂

"What's in the bargain for me?" "You get to live." 🥵 Listen, I don't want to know what it says about me that I consider this the hottest Giles has been so far

Guys, hear me out...

It's the clinical efficiency with which he beats the shit out of Ethan. No hint of anger, no loss of composure, just cold effective brutality.

2x07: "Lie to Me"

I forgot how fucking creepy Drusilla can be when she wants to. Sometimes I like to imagine a world where someone introduced her to the concept of Stockholm Syndrome and she got over her messed up attachment to Angel(us)

The obvious delight Jenny takes in just winding Giles up is my favourite thing. Girl, that man would literally walk to the ends of the earth just following you, he doesn't care where you take him

The way Giles fully takes a beat to notice Buffy and then he's just like, "Oh, hello child."

"Are you alright? You seem a little glum." Again, he's such a dad

"I don't see why everyone's always picking on Marie Antoinette" you know what, damn right Cordy!

Aw, how happy Buffy was to see Ford, my baby girl deserved better from all men

"Oh, that's what that song is about?" Oh Willow baby I love you so much

I've said it before and I'll say it again, why does Angel always stand like a baby pangolin??

Aw, Willow's picture of her and Xander on her bedside table

On the list of Buffy men I'd punch, you bet Ford is high up there

Kinda wanna go to that club though, ngl

"If I say something you really don't wanna hear, do you promise not to bite me?"

I actually really like Angel in this episode

"I'm gonna have to go with Dead Boy on this one." "Could you not call me that?"

Okay, but the way Jenny's commitment to winding Giles up drops the minute she realises that he might not be enjoying it as much as she is 🥺

"Isn't [Angel] supposed to be a good guy?" Jenny...

"It took one of my books!" 😠 "Well, at least someone in this school is reading." 😌

The fact that the only thing that can make Spike irritated with Dru is Angel. The way he apologises immediately though 🥺

"Do I have anyone on watch here? It's called security, people! Are you all asleep?" 😂

"I've known you for two minuted and I can't stand you" same Spike. "Can I eat him now, love?"

The fact that the first time Buffy tells Angel she loves him is because she's backed into a corner and grasping for any honesty and openness from him is really sad

Dru's story is so sad, I really wish she'd been able to heal.

Ford is a fucking psycho holy shit.

The way Spike drops everything when Dru's in danger 🥺

"Uh, where's the doorknob?" 😂

"I believe that's called growing up." "I'd like to stop then, okay?" This whole conversation breaks my heart every time because she doesn't know the half of it yet.

2x08: "The Dark Age"

Of all the demonic creatures Giles could've summoned as a dumb twenty year old, it had to be the Buffyverse equivalent of a fucking Deadite didn't it?

"I know music! Music has notes. This is noise!" He sounds like my dad fr

Jenny's singsong little "Willow..." combined with the wordless look of Behave!

The way Giles just smiles the second he sees her 🥺

I share his horror though, the thought of defacing a book makes me shudder.

Again though, Jenny's commitment to winding him up. Honestly, that should've just been the rest of his life.

Giles is so me-coded because if I loaned a girl a book and she pretended to have ruined it just to fuck with me, I would also be horrified but equally I would probably also fall in love with her just for having the audacity

He smiled all the way back to the library only for the cops to come in and ruin it. Can we let this man have nice things please?

Jenny and Buffy's identical expressions of "Cordelia what the fuck??"

Buffy punching Ethan, that's my girl! Like father, like daughter tbh

Oh real brave Ethan, hide behind the fucking teenage girl!

"You put these people in danger, people I care about!" The contrast between Giles about to throttle Ethan then immediately after being so soft with Jenny. The way he runs to her 🥺

"What about me? I care about Giles." Oh Cordelia my darling

"Nothing’s safe in this world, Rupert" - this line breaks my heart every time because they have no idea how true that will come to be

Not Giles foiling a demon's nefarious plan by being such a green flag that he won't have sex with his own girlfriend when he's not entirely convinced she's not concussed and/or traumatised

"Don't be sorry, be Giles."

Buffy, baby girl, never turn your back on a psychopath

"If you two aren't with me 110%, then get the hell out of my library!" YES WILLOW!!

Okay but how traumatic must it have been for Jenny to come to with Angel's hands around her throat? She must've been sure for a second she was about to die just like that girl in Borsa did (and she will, just not yet)

[starkissedscars]

𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐬, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞. ❝ Rafe, we only have so many choices. It's either the water or a wood chipper.❞ she teases as she comes back with the pills and even helps him to take them. When asking what it is, she doesn't hesitate to tell him. ❝ Oxycontin. Don't ask why our mother has a prescription for it, your guess is as good as ours. And probably right. ❞ she sighs, but hey, they'll come in handy in this moment.

❝ I have an idea, how about we don't pick a fight with a drug dealer who has a blade ? ❞ she says seriously to Rafe as she looks at him, though she knows when it comes to him and her brother having them listen to reason is like asking the wind to blow in the other direction. It's gonna do what it's gonna do.

❝ And yes, you should live. I'm not exactly going to med school so I'm crossing my fingers on this one.❞

More? Yes, give him something better. At this point, Rafe will take anyhting given to him in order not to feel the pain he's in. "You're not throwing me in the ocean, either." He tells her, watching as she disappears from the room and then he looks back at Topper.

"Should live?" He asks. If he had more strength, he'd reach over and grab Topper by the neck, but he's just going to lay here. "Don't even say his name around me right now, I'm manifesting how I'm going to rip his balls off once I can stand up again. . ." And Topper should realize how serious he is right now.

Grunting when Juni returns and snatches the alcohol away from him, he opens his mouth to say something but she's already cutting him off. "What are they?" He asks, but he doesn't actually care, if they work. He takes the water and he swallows the pills.

[dontcallittimetravel]

On This Day: Anita Hill tells everybody in congress what a piece of shit Clarence Thomas is, and look where he is now!

What a country

[herefortheships]

The fact that Emilia Perez got 13 Oscar nominations while Beetlejuice 2 didn't get any is kinda insulting. Like I would have thought that at the very LEAST Danny Elfman's score would have gotten nominated. Or at least the costumes and visual effects! This is a movie using PRACTICAL effects in a very creative and visually gorgeous way in the age of CGI. The creativity alone that went into this film deserves all the recognition. Like, the score might not have won when they have a whole highly popular and wildly successful musical to compete with this year, but the visual effects! That deserved at least a nomination. Like, don't come at me.

For forever I've thought the Oscars are rigged and fake, but now I am convinced. lol

[stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale]

I played romance Louis/save Violet for the first time (and last) in my life some days ago and I really didn't expect the game to feel so different without him. Not is his absence only extremely notorious but to quote one of your old posts, the game won't shut up about him.

EVERY SINGLE TIME. They didn't mention Violet even half the times they did with Louis, and it just feels. Awful. Constant reminder that you left him get taken, that he's being tortured and traumatized. It really did hit different, I wanted to think about all the details for Violet's route but I couldn't. THEY KEPT BRINGING HIM UP LIKE OK !! I GET IT !! I KNOW, IM COMING TO HIS RESCUE

and in the end I ended up getting mad Violet suddenly forgot about his existence. I remember you talked about that a lot but since I hadn't experienced it I hadn't realized how bad it was.

When she didn't mentioned him even ONCE, not in the cells, not in the walk home back to Ericson, nothing.

But back to Louis– the game says Louis' name over and over and it makes me feel guilty and I don't like it

That route haunts my nightmares.

When I used to stream, we called the romance Louis/save Violet [+don't trust AJ] route The Despair Route.... you can probably guess why. You're right, the whole thing hits differently when you've built up Clementine's romance with him, only for him to be taken away. Plus, when you do that, your relationship with Violet isn't as strong so not only do you miss out on a lot of Louis content, you miss out on Violet content for not romancing/best friending her.

And yeah, the game will not shut up about Louis when he gets taken. It's actually so fascinating, because Violet doesn't get mentioned nearly as much, so that begs the question of why? Y'know? I mean, we can look at Louis getting captured and conclude that they keep reminding us about him so that we're extra hurt and guilty when we find him in the cells.

But then with Violet? Louis is the one who brings her up most of the time, except when Ruby pulls out her file. But it's odd that the others don't make more comments like they do with Louis. I think we are kind of meant to forget about her? Well, okay, not forget about her but like... The fact that they don't talk about her as much makes her feeling pissed off, forgotten and abandoned all the more powerful, no?

As for Violet forgetting about him, in my opinion that's just a genuine flaw with the writing... because Violet would ask about Louis. I've played her romance route. I believe that in my heart of hearts that she would, and when she doesn't, I'm like ?????

Sure, you can say she's got her mind on other things, or that Aasim already told her what happened to Louis so she doesn't ask when they're in the cells... except she would ask if he's okay.

They're different characters who react to things differently, and that's not inherently good or bad.... but you're seriously going to tell me that the only thing Violet's says to Louis is a sad little, "Lou..." when meeting up with him on the beach? and then she only makes a minor mention of him when talking about pushing people away on the walk home?

No, sir. I think not. I think that's an oversight, especially if you're trying to sell their friendship in her route.

But I suppose in her defense, if you're a Louis fan, you're more likely to be angry about it. We're used to Louis mentioning Violet and then to see her not do the same isn't great. Whereas a Violet fan who prefers her route is more likely to justify why and how it makes sense, y'know? In fact, if a Violet fan plays Louis' route, they probably get mad that she's "forgotten" about a lot prior to the cells so I suppose it balances out?

Also, can I add for both routes how much I side eye the fact that captured Louis/Violet say nothing about the other if they died on the bridge? I get they didn't want to be a downer on the happy ending, and that time has passed so they probably already mourned......... but c'mon. I know Louis can't verbalize but he can write, he can stand by Violet's grave, something. Violet could've said something. Listen, if you're gonna make me suffer through that, give me some of the angst I actually want.

[asthe-crow-flies]

Hospital Bed - Lolina: Origins

i am obsessed with this concept album its on bandcamp please go listen to it i need to not be the only person who cares about this

[id: a digital comic consisting of three pages, in grayscale and red.

the first page is four panels, each the width of the page. the first is all black. four beeps go diagonally down across the panel. the second panel is mostly black, with a somewhat fuzzy light in the middle left of the panel. it reads "what is this pain? what is this place?" in the third panel, the fuzzy image of a person is visible, the edges of the panel are still dark. it reads "am i alive? am i awake? what are these scars across my face?" in the fourth panel, a woman in a lab coat and a mask, the doctor, leans in. the right side of the panel is still dark. a speech bubble from the woman says "you are home". the narration interjects with "they say". the woman continues "you are safe."

the second page is three panels, the first one taking up most of the page, with the other two next to each other under it. the first panel is a birds-eye view of a room in a hospital. in the center is Lolina, a woman laying on a hospital bed. she has black hair, a bandage wrapped over her eye, and a red cut down the side of her face. the doctor stands next to the bed. sideways, in large letters, it reads "hospital bed, I'm back on mars." the second panel is a close-up of the upper half of Lolina's face, focusing on her left eye, which is red, and the bandage covering her other one. it reads "but i am wounded." the third panel is a close up of the lower half of her face, focusing on the cut on her cheek held together with butterfly bandages, and the large bandage on her other cheek. it reads "I feel the scars."

the third page is a drawing of the doctor standing by the bed, from Lolina's point of view. across it is dialogue interspersed with small panels. the doctor says "we can regrow your cells," and next to it is a small panel showing cells dividing. then she says "we can restore," and next to it is a panel showing the right half of Lolina's face, with her eye and cheek healed. then she says "you will go back," and next to it is a panel reading "Sandy's Place" in glowing red letters. the narration interjects with "they say." the doctor continues "to the life you had before." under it is a panel divided diagonally into four sections, the first showing red lips, the second showing black hair swishing, the third showing a pair of legs wearing red high heels, and the fourth showing a body from neck to hips, wearing a strapless red dress. under that the narration reads "to the life i had before". end id.]

(I've never written an id for a comic before and there was some visual stuff that was really tricky to describe so if I've messed something up or if something should be clearer please tell me and I'll try to fix it)

[blizzardfluffykpop]

You sent me an ask so I shall return the favor! What is the most recent Kpop group you’ve gotten into and how did you find out about them? I always love hearing fan “origin stories” lol

Thank you for returning the favor~ That would be The Boyz 🥰💖 I love hearing fan "origin stories" too hehe (This is gonna get long I love them sm)

Anyways I've known about them since debut? I loved Bloom Bloom Pow with my whole heart when it came out and tried to fall for them then- It didn't work. The next time was when The Stealer (TS) came out~ I had watched them perform for Road to Kingdom- because ptg was on the show too- But I really loved TS cb- sm so that I bought the album about 6 mos later with my favorite members as inclusions at the time (Eric, Kevin and Hyunjae). But nothing came about of it even after watching the weekly idol episodes... Then came Whisper era and I ended up biasing Changmin (Q) and loving that song but again nothing came out of it.

(A little backstory is that Changkyun (I.M) got me into Dominic Fike's music-) Thus, when tiktok showed me Juyeon, Changmin, and Sunwoo dancing to Babydoll earlier this year as a dance cover: I fell. And then I finally checked out Watch It~ But Hui had his solo and it distracted me completely from falling further. Then I had gotten sick and decided 'well, what if I watch their content?' And I did... I watched their hello82 interview and their reaction to fanart of them, and lastly their mafia dance. And I loved each sm that I decided to check out more.

It was the first time I had watched their content and wanted to see more. And now, I watch their content almost daily. It's kind of like they revived the joy of kpop for me? My (old) ult of ults has been on hiatus due to the military so it's been stagnant content lately for me. But then they came in like a breath of fresh air- and I simply can't get enough. This month will be 3 mos and I honestly hope I'll follow them for a long time. (I think they're my new ult of ults tbh)

And lastly now here I am as a Younghoon and Juyeon bias (with bias wrecker: Changmin... he's doing everything to be bias again). And with them having a comeback I loved with my whole heart this past month, I think it really solidified them with me. Honestly, I'm so happy with them.