#she will be loved and find herself to be loved

[thescriptorium]

thinking about caitlyn kiramman and how her lack of words are so fundamental to the end shape of her character. cait doesn’t say “i’m sorry” when Vi yells at her about being Ambessa’s puppet, she yells “i know” because she’s intelligent enough to see the spiral of events but not enough to know how to stop it. she doesn’t say “i’m sorry” but the very next scene she attempts to make peace with jinx. she doesn’t say “i’m sorry” but she calls off the guards so Vi can secretly try to save her sister—a terrible plan but one that Vi needs to do.

caitlyn isn’t surprised to find that jinx escaped. she expects Vi to be locked away by her sister so that she won’t chase her. because that’s the doomed tragedy of them.

everyone knows Jinx can’t be saved except for Vi.

Vi wants so badly to believe her love will somehow save her sister but it never will. her fatal flaw is that she will always try and she will always fail. and then caitlyn knows Vi will unjustly blame herself, so she’s there at the cells to ground her and remind her that this is how it’s always been. you’re getting predictable.

and then vi finally understands that caitlyn pulled all the strings for this. that she gave her another chance to open a cell and go after her sister, even knowing it would never work. it’s an apology and it’s cait saying “i know who you are.”

caitlyn kiramman doesn’t use words, she takes meaningful action because she’s only half the charismatic councilor her mother wanted her to be. she’s grown up an outsider and keeps a careful mask for everyone except violet, which is why season one opened her up so magically. she’s naturally stoic and reserved but she’s bold.

and then vi has to kiss her right then in the cells. because meaningful action means so much more than words to someone like her, who just wants to be of service to the people she loves. what caitlyn did was a reciprocation of her love language. and then Vi acts more by instantly showing her love, giving caitlyn all her love, because she’s the only person in this story willing to accept it. without hurt or heartbreak, vi can pour this massive heart she has into the only hands capable of understanding it. of being tender with it.

because caitlyn knows that vi is devoted to such a massive fault, but it doesn’t deserve to be punished. not any longer.

caitlyn kiramman doesn’t use words, but she keeps the burden of jinx locked away in her heart. all so that vi can finally know what a safe home and peace feels like ♥️ AUGH

[lullabyes22-blog]

"I think the cycle only ends when you find the will to walk away."

Got a lot of Q's for this in my inbox. Figured I'd just address them here.

tw: mentions of suicide, suicidal ideation

Re: the ending of S2:

Jinx did not die.

She symbolically killed her old self, and with it, her last ties to the past that imprisoned her. She understood that for her sister to move on and live her life - be happy without guilt - she'd have to renounce the bonds that held them together.

Her talk with ghostly Silco was the 'sign-off' she'd been waiting for, ever his dutiful daughter. Throughout S2, she kept hoping he'd haunt her, and in doing so, offer some impetus given her aimlessness. Maybe just straight up boss her around, and tell her how she's supposed to exist now that he's no longer there to be a (subversive if loving) guiding hand.

But it was the promise of time (as represented by Ekko) healing old wounds, and the courage to feel, as she once had - a hopeful child with a hopeful future - that allowed Jinx to commit impetus to action.

Her blimp-ship in the climactic battle is a tribute to Isha - but also to the child in Jinx's own fractured psyche: Powder. She's letting both little girls have one last hurrah before she takes care of business - and cuts off the last oaths, duties and commitments that bind her to a past whose parameters she's outgrown.

Better still, she knows she's got the capacity to outgrow them.

That was the point of Jinx's arc with Isha, and why, no matter my misgivings on Isha's character herself, I found Jinx's trajectory towards a more nurturing and fun-loving figure more life-affirming and positive than the straightforward 'Daddy's Villain Goes Postal' shtick.

It's even why there's a minigame titled Jinx Fixes Everything. It's Jinx, struggling and stumbling, as she tries to rewrite her narrative, and finds in herself the capacity to do good.

To fix things that seem irreparably broken.

And to understand why she's reached this stage, we've got to let go of our tendency to project our own stuff onto Jinx (precious meow meow, unrepentant terrorist, manic pixie crazypants, edgy hot psycho) and acknowledge the purpose she plays in Arcane's thematic structure.

Jinx's character comes off as a death-seeker, and that's no shocker. She is hounded by terrible guilt and loss. She's got blood on her hands, and ghosts on her heels, and no matter what she does, she can't seem to be rid of them. Her inner mind's fractured, her mannerisms ooze pure chaos, and she seems a creature of pure feral impulse and no mercy.

That's the Jinx we're accustomed to seeing in S1 - except that's also both the front she's most likely to put on during that timeline, and the persona that is necessary for her to inhabit to survive, as Silco's daughter and his top enforcer.

Then Silco kicks the bucket, she symbolically fulfills his dream by shooting at the Council HQ, she accepts that she must inhabit this path of shadows and loneliness (as symbolized by her starkly decorated chair in the tea party scene), she accepts the fragmented push-and-pull between past and present, and...

And now what?

Silco's given her a semblance of direction for six years, and he's gone. Vi, the sister she'd hoped would return, and whom she'd hinged so many childishly idealized hopes on, is herself traumatized, and afraid of what her sister's become.

Jinx has her shadows and her loneliness. Jinx is traumatized. Jinx is suicidal.

But Jinx is still, whatever else, alive.

And all living things need connections.

That's why we as the audience enjoy her little found family dynamic with Isha and Sevika. It's Jinx, taking the first tentative steps to reach out to people beyond Silco and Vi, and realizing, wow, she enjoys the pay-off.

And all throughout S2, we see Jinx growing more and more comfortable in this newfound space - even jealously guarding it at the expense of Zaun's liberty, and Silco's wishes, because she can't bear to lose what she's found.

And what she finds empowers her enough that, when Warwick shows up, she's actually willing to reach out to Vi, and call upon their family connection, because Jinx is learning the value of bonds, not as baling hooks of guilt, but as buoys to carry her forward.

That's the story Jinx's relationships serve to tell in S2. Each one shapes the choice she makes in the finale. Until she learns to accept the past (Vi), to lay the monsters to rest (Silco and Vander/Warwick), forgive herself (Caitlyn) trust that time heals all wounds (Ekko), and hope for happier new beginning (Isha), she'll never trust herself enough to just seize the chance.

Jinx's culminating arc is not about death, much less self-erasure. It's about resurrection, and embracing the sublime chaos of a freed mind, and a lightened spirit. That's what she craves beyond simple death, and what her baptism by fire, blood and riverwater, has been about.

Each trial grinds her down into someone else. Someone new.

Someone closer to who she is meant to be, rather than who she's expected to be.

That's why she's so glad to make the sacrifice for Vi. She's not dying as an act of self-immolation. She's giving her sister - the one who's proven she'll never give up on her - the ultimate gift, and showing Vi that she deserves to live.

She needs Vi to live, so Jinx, the persona, can finally die.

"He (Silco) didn't make Jinx. You did."

She's basically saying, "I love you, I will always be with you, but you are no longer responsible for my actions. Please move forward with your life, and grant me the choice to do the same."

It's two sisters embracing everything they've meant to each other, acknowledging the pain weighing them down on both sides, and welcoming the new so they can each slough off old paradigms and live life as a whole person - or at least take steps to remembering what wholeness feels like.

That's the reason the show's final shots linger on the Hexgate tunnels, Jinx's monkey bomb, and the aircraft.

It's the show's way of reminding us that Jinx has ascended to a different version of her identity - one removed from the past that haunted her. It's Jinx, finally striking out alone, away from the sister whose memory she clung so desperately to, and who was, in turn, horrified by her hand in making Powder a monster (perceived guilt or real, fandom may debate ad nauseum) due to past mistakes and abandonment.

The ending of Arcane isn't tragic. It's deeply hopeful, and serves as a reminder that no matter how damaged you think you are, and no matter how monstrous the world finds you, there are still ways to come back to yourself - or to walk the path toward a new you.

Jinx is symbolized by crows. Jinx is shown with firelights emerging from her mouth. Jinx is depicted holding a torch like Janna ushering in the winds of change.

Thematically, Jinx is change.

And the best way she can embody that change is to write her story, and make it her own.

[khazzman]

Thinking about how Vi's death changes things. How Benzo and Vander live because she didn't try to turn herself in. How Mylo and Claggor live because they didn't follow her into danger. How Vander and Silco make up because Powder losing Vi reminds Vander of how it was to lose his brother, and he doubles his efforts to find Silco and make amends.

And the worst thing?

If Vi knew that her death would have meant so many of her loved ones would have lead happier lives, she would have given it 100%.

Because that is who she is.

[shouyuus]

18+, vi-shaped brainrot, mdni

consider college roommate!vi who is the star of the rugby team and just such a fucking jock about it, spends hours at the gym, has pre and post workout drinks and never closes her door when she's blasting rock music, leaves pink hair dye on the bathroom counter, stains the tub when she gets drunk and tries to redo her roots, calls you everything but your name -- sweetcheeks, dollface, cupcake, princess -- isn't shy about her hookups, doesn't even bother to apologize the mornings after another pretty cheerleader scampers out of her room, shrugs and winks when you come out of the bathroom with a tiny thong dangling off your finger that's clearly not either of yours.

college roommate!vi who does kickboxing on the weekends and teaches a kid's course at the local gym. the first time you go there to drop something of her's off as a favor, you can't help but stare at the way she laughs and chases the kids around, so gentle with her movements, so careful, guiding their punches, correcting their forms. and the kids love her -- it's so easy to see, the stars in their eyes, the color high in their cheeks, the way the girls cluster around her legs and the boys are constantly vying for her approval, how she tries her best to divide up her attention equally between all of them.

college roommate!vi who goes real quiet the first time you laugh in her presence, a real laugh, not one of those ha-ha ones you snipe at her when she's trying to get a rise out of you, or teasing you about spending all your time in the library, but one that shakes your shoulders and makes your whole face light up. who has to blink when you cock your head and ask if she's okay bc she was so busy staring at you, wondering about the weird thumping in her chest, the tightness in her throat.

college roommate!vi who's there for you when you're stressed about your dissertation, and she knew you were smart, but listening to you rant about it at 3am in the morning, she's starting to realize that... you're kind of a genius. to be so young and already doing a doctorate in mechanical engineering, and the things you're trying to do -- they could conceivably change the world one day. who freezes when you let your head drop onto her shoulder with a heavy sigh, telling her that you don't know what to do.

"you'll figure it out, cupcake. with a brain like yours? you always do."

college roommate!vi who realizes way too late that she's kinda got it bad for you, bc since when did she start getting used to the sight of you wearing one of her gym shirts in the mornings, making scrambled eggs, rolling your eyes when she yawns her way into the tiny kitchen, leaning an arm against the fridge as she looks you over before asking what's for breakfast. who's gotten so used to falling asleep to the soft clatter of your computer keys that when you leave to visit your family for a weekend, she tosses and turns and can't figure out why it's impossible for her to get to sleep, wanders into sliver of space you guys have crammed a couch and tv into to call a living room, slumping down there to stare at the ceiling, only to feel her fingers graze against something on the ground, who tugs out the thing from under the couch only to find herself staring at one of your bunched up socks with the goofy cartoon cats pattern, and she remembers (suddenly) finding you tearing your room apart the week before trying to look for it because it's your favorite pair of socks.

she finds herself chuckling, letting the sock fall again, but the tightness in her throat doesn't recede, and invisible fingers clench in her gut as she lets her eyes fall shut.

"well... fuck."

college roommate!vi who doesn't know how to act when you get back from your weekend away, when you throw yourself into her arms, your skin still smelling of the crisp fall air and something warm, and spicy -- it reminds her of the holiday market you dragged her to last year, the cinnamon and spiced apples, the hot, mulled wine, the way it burned all the way down when she took the first sip, the way it worked the most darling flush into your cheeks above your pink knit scarf.

"i've got a present for you!" you say, when you finally extricate yourself from her gasp, your arms still around her shoulders, her hands still settled around your waist.

"y-yeah? you didn't have to do that, sweetcheeks --"

"yeah, but i saw this in a store window and -- well i just... it reminded me of you," you say, pulling back to dig something out of your travel bag, and it takes everything in vi not to tug you back into her chest. so instead, she settles for knitting her arms across her front and coughing to hide the fact that her throat's just tightened over itself at your words. you? seeing something and thinking of her? gods, she was so far gone.

"here," you say, pulling a small black box out and offering it to her on the palm of your hand.

vi stares, before reaching out to take it, her eyes flickering up towards your face, only to catch you chewing on your bottom lip in a way that makes her mind frizzle out at the edges. she refocuses her attention on the box -- opening it, she finds a tiny little gemstone, set on a thin golden chain --

"oh..." she breathes, tugging out up to let the gem dangle from between her fingers.

"it -- it's an alexandrite stone," you say, your voice a bit reedy, but you push on as vi continues to stare, "it's uhm -- one of the rarest gemstones in nature, but the cool thing is it changes colors depending on what kind of light it's under --" you reach up to grasp her wrist, her lungs seizing at the contact as you tug her into the incandescent light of the kitchen. "see? it was light blue a second ago, right? and now it's --"

"violet," vi says, her voice soft and disbelieving.

you quickly let go of her wrist, pursing your lips and wrapping your arms around yourself, looking anywhere but at her face.

"yeah -- i just --" your shoulders shrug up as she stares at you, her sky-light eyes wide, "it... it reminded me of... you."

college roommate!vi who, ever since the "necklace incident" (as the rest of the rugby team likes to call it), hasn't really been the same. she's put on the necklace and not taken it off for even a second since the day you gave it to her, but now she doesn't really know how to act around you -- bc did you actually like her? i mean, the necklace is... a pretty big thing to just give someone, but what if you were just giving it to her as a friend? as a roommate? she agonizes over it to the point that the rest of the team are so, so sick of hearing about it, they lovingly tell her to just fuck her and get it over with already. but vi insists that she can't -- it's different with you.

college roommate!vi who's stunned speechless when she gets home to find you staring at your computer, your expression blank. and at first, she thinks something's horribly wrong, but then you're slamming into her, squealing about how you've done it -- your thesis defense went well, that you're a doctor now -- and she's picking you up, spinning you around, buoyed up by the effervescence of your happiness, pressing a kiss to your cheek --

"oh my god, congrats princess! i knew it! i always knew you could do it!"

"thanks -- god, i just -- i've wanted it for so long i... i don't know what to do with myself now that i've got it, y'know?" you say, still suspended in vi's arms, your feet lifted off the ground. it takes a moment before you both seem to realize the position you're in, and vi clears her throat as she lets you down, you looking away, pressing your palms to your cheeks to cool the heat gathering there.

after a brief pause though, vi chuckles, reaching out to slip a finger beneath your chin, tilting your face up towards her's.

"c'mon, put on one of those pretty dresses of yours. we're going out."

"out?"

"yeah. to celebrate."

you blink as vi pulls her hand away.

"but it's like... 4:30 on a tuesday."

vi cocks an eyebrow, a smirk twitching at her lips, "yes, and? c'mon cupcake --" her eyes catch yours and instead of looking away, she holds it this time, something flickering behind their powder-blue depths that makes your skin prickle with heat, "i'll show you a good time."

college roommate!vi who takes you to one of her favorite clubs, tugging you through the crowd, the jostling bodies, holding your hand in her's, trying really hard not to think too much about it (or the fucking insane little black and pink miniskirt you put on), telling herself that it's just to make sure she doesn't lose you in the crowd, grinning when someone knocks you into her chest, and she finds her arm wrapped around your waist, fingers scrunching the material of your skirt, your palms splayed on her chest.

she buys the both of you a round of shots, watching with a hitched breath as your tongue flickers out to lick the salt daubed on your wrist, the way your eyes squeeze shut when you take the shot and your lips wrap around the lime slice, tries to ignore the twist in her gut like a turning blade, the way her whole body flushes with heat, the dull ache caught between her legs when you wipe your lips, your eyes bright and a little blown out, your cheeks flushed with color as you giggle and lace your hands with hers again --

"come on! i wanna dance!"

college roommate!vi who is just drunk enough to let herself dance with you, to let herself lean in to the way you're twisting your body, fingers in your hair, your eyes closed, an indulgent smile on your lips, who let's herself imagine (just for a second), pulling you in to kiss you, how soft your lips might feel on hers, how silken your skin might be beneath her hands, who tries not to groan when you lean in closer, link your arms behind her neck, press your whole body against her's, who grips your hips just a little too tight, grinds you against her, sees the way you gasp, your eyelids fluttering as you eyes glaze out --

college roommate!vi who can't help how she groans at the sight, tugs you in by the back of your neck to mash her lips to yours, crushing you to her as she kisses you (finally, finally) and you let yourself he kissed -- your fingers tangle in her choppy pink hair, and she swears you make this sweet, mind-bending whimpering noise in the back of your throat that drives her up the wall and right over it --

but when she pulls back, she sees the look on your face -- shocked and little confused, but you're drunk, and she doesn't wanna do this with you -- at least, not like this.

college roommate!vi who pulls away, only to have you follow her all the way out the club, into this small dark alley, her shaking her head, feeling a strange, saltwater prickle at the back of her throat as she says --

"shit -- sorry. i didn't mean to -- i just -- you were just so -- and i -- fuck, i didn't --"

"vi -- vi -- no, violet, listen to me --"

it's her full name on your lips that makes her pause, makes her turn to find you walking towards her. your lipstick is smeared, your hair a waterfall mess around your shoulders as you corner her against the rough brick of the club's exterior. faintly, she can still feel the pulse of music reverberating from inside the club, but out here, the air is damp and cold and quiet.

"i -- i'm sorry i kissed you," she says, her voice cracking over the syllables. she bites her lips as you frown up at her, your eyes searching her's before you let out a soft sigh and a scoff.

"well. i'm sorry you feel that way. cause..." you take half a step back, your arms curling around yourself before you glance back at her with a hard, determined light to your eyes as you press back into her space, your cheeks bright with color.

"i was really kinda hoping you'd do it again."

vi's breath punches out of her chest; it takes a few seconds of sputtering before she gathers herself enough to speak.

"wait -- what? you..."

you crinkle your nose, rolling your eyes, "i -- i thought i was making it obvious -- i mean, with the whole necklace thing -- it doesn't take a genius to figure how i feel about --"

you squeak as she pins you against the opposite wall, her lips seeking yours out, her fingers rucking up the material of your top, making you hiccup as they tease under the wire-rim of your bra.

college roommate!vi who can barely control herself when you sink your fingers into her hair, tugging lightly as you gasp out a breath, her lips tracking fire along the side of your neck, intent on making you whimper again, just the way she likes, grazing her teeth along your collarbone even as you jerk at her hair --

"vi -- fuck -- vi, not here --" you swallow around the burgeoning desire, and when you glance down to find her looking up at you, her eyes so dark they're almost black, you fight back a groan, cup your palms around her cheeks and pull her up for a long kiss.

"let's --" you suck in a breath even as vi whines at the loss your lips, "let's go home --"

"holy fuck," vi swears, somehow managing to pull herself back just far enough to taste the misty night air. she stares at you, your chest heaving, a daisy-chain of hickeys blossoming along the long expanse of your neck, your makeup good and smeared, your hair a mess, your eyes bright and so full of love as they flicker over her face.

vi smiles, helpless to the loud, uncertain drumming of her heart as she says, "y-yeah -- let's get you home, princess."

college roommate!vi who barely waits for the elevator door to close in your building before she's got you shoved up against the wall, hoisting you up, her fingers seeking out the softness of your skin, tugging up your shirt, her other hand dipping into the waistband of your skirt, her mouth open and hungry as she kisses your neck, bites down at the junction of your shoulder just to hear you moan.

college roommate!vi who's way too good at undoing your bra with one hand the second you get back to your apartment (if you were more coherent, you might've thought it hot), the door slamming closed, the pair of you toppling onto the room, breathy laughs and panting whines as she hoists you into her arms and carries you to your bedroom, laying you down so gently, kissing up your stomach till you're whimpering, your own hands pulling your top off your body, leaving you in an undone-bra and a miniskirt, your cheeks flushed. you push yourself up onto your elbows, watching as vi peaks up at you from between your legs, shooting you a wink before she's tugging down your skirt and panties all in one, an eyebrow ticking up at the lil lacey thing you had on beneath the skirt all along.

"all this for me, pretty?"

you press your lips, eyes cutting away as she looks between the bra dangling off your shoulders and the panties caught round your ankles. her lashes flutter.

"oh, a matching set," she cocks her head, running her palms up your thighs, pinning them open again as you try to press them closed, feeling suddenly much too seen (bc you'd be straight up lying if you hadn't put it on in the vague hope that the night might evolve into something like this).

she clicks her tongue, shaking her head with a cocky, shit-eating grin that makes your heart skitter in your chest. her drops a light kiss to your inner thigh, savoring in the way you whine again.

"nope, keep 'em open princess."

college roommate!vi who takes her time with you, bc rly she's been waiting way too long for this, has imagined it one too many times, but nothing can compare to the way your hips jerk up against her mouth, the way your fingers tighten in her hair every time she licks up the seam of your cunt, the way your breath catches on her name over and over again, like you can't quite get the word out even though it's just a single syllable. she groans against you, too lost in the taste of you to care about what a mess she must look like, with her tongue fucking into your desperate hole, her nose nudging your clit, her fingers digging crescent moon marks into your hipbones.

she's sure that if this were an old-fashioned cartoon, there'd be big, balloon hearts popping out of her eyes. she can't get enough of you like this -- moaning her name, your legs on either side of her face, your skin littered with the remnants of her. she has the eye-rolling thought of you the next morning, of how all these marks will still be there to remind you of her every single time you see one of them.

college roommate!vi who doesn't expect you to flip over after she's literally eaten you out seven ways to sunday, to tug her in for a soft kiss (though she really does like pressing your own taste back into your mouth with her tongue), before your fingers are inching down the length of her body to tease at her hips, trailing circles down the lines of her abs, toying with the thin line of hair that leads into her black boxer briefs.

"what are you --"

you shoot her a look that has her mouth going dry.

"what? didn't think i can give as good as i get?"

college roommate!vi who's literally going to lose her mind with the way you're fingers (at first sight so thin and delicate, but gods are they stronger than they look) are pressing into her, curling up with the kind of precision usually only associated with doctors, and then a voice in the back of her head reminds her -- oh, right, you are a doctor now. but logical thought dies after that, bc you've somehow worked your way between her legs and are looking up at her with those big dark eyes of yours, smiling sunshine bright before you drop a kitten-lick against her clit and she's twitching, keening as she cums all over your fingers.

"jesus fuckin' christ, doll -- is that what you're learning in those engineering classes?"

she's breathless, cheeks flushed, and honestly just a little embarrassed at how quickly she came, but she has to bite back another groan as she watches you lick your fingers clean, grinning sweetly up at her as if you didn't just get her off in record time.

"no, but i did do my dissertation on human-based robotics, which included a lot of late nights memorizing anatomical models so..."

vi pulls you in for a kiss, laughing against your lips.

"you're amazing, y'know that?"

college roommate!vi who can't really believe how much she's lucked out, sharing an apartment with her girlfriend, who literally cannot shut up about you, but the rugby team all agree that they'd rather have this than the months of endless pining. who brags about her genius gf to anyone who'll listen, and looks for you in the stands of all her practice matches when you can make it, who kisses you in front of everyone even when you make a show of trying to wiggle away bc she's sweaty (you don't really care).

who loves telling the story of how you guys met bc she still can't quite believe it herself, and the story always starts with --

"well, actually -- we started off as roommates."

[zinepunk]

Some thoughts on the end of arcane season 2:

Wow that was even gayer than expected /pos

Episode 7 was damn incredible. Everything I ever wanted from this show, especially with the “what could have been” themes

I know I wasn’t supposed to find it funny but I cracked tf up every time the alternate realities switched. Like it’d go from Ekko on a date in ideal Zaun being like “nooo I HATE parties :(“ to Jayce GOING THROUGH IT eating raw meat alone in a cave lmaoooo

TimeBomb canon letsgoooooo

GAY SEX???? GAYY??? SEX?!?!?!?

IN A JAIL CELL FOR SOME REASON???? I mean slay ig??

Side note I had a dream that Vi and Caitlyn had sex but woke up and was like damn too bad they’ll never do that in canon. I’m a prophet 😎

Mel’s character design somehow got even better and I love that for her (rip about the mommy issues tho)

Also what was up with Skye being savage as hell? Viktor being like “I’ll miss our talks” and her being like “no you won’t” Tf???!?

Ekko slayed this season but what’s new

Ekko putting Jinx on a suicide watch by rewinding time every time she killed herself was funny as hell ngl. Speaking as someone who’s been monitored 24/7 for that exact reason

I wanna know what the hell Ekko said to Jinx to convince her to not only not die but also save everyone cuz I feel like we missed some steps

Look I know JayVik didn’t become OFFICIALLY canon like the others but that confession was gay as hell. They’re canon to me idc

The reveal that the mage who saved Jayce as a kid was Viktor all along?? Side note, my dad actually predicted that by accident because he couldn’t remember who was who so yay dad

I know this isn’t important whatsoever but VIKTOR WITH A BEARD CAN GET IT

Jinx’s new hair is really growing on me but unfortunately it only lasted like 30 mins

I can’t believe jinx fucking died. I seriously didn’t think they’d kill off one of the main characters

Also did Jayce and Viktor die? That was super unclear like where did they go??

I feel like Vi and Sevika really got the short end of the stick with this ending since both of them had at least two found families EACH die off completely

Anyway in summary I LOVED the ending and the little seeds it planted for future spin offs. Once again I watched the whole thing jaw dropped. I kept thinking “wouldn’t it be crazy if they did xyz? But they wouldn’t do thaaaat” and then they FUCKING DID IT. 10/10 show, ended as beautifully as I’d hoped.

[starless-nightz]

The look of love

note -> I am NOT ready for act 3, I don't want Arcane to end :[[[

parts -> [part one] | part two

pairing -> Jinx X fem! reader, platonic! Isha X fem! reader

summary -> Jinx always believed that she would end up alone, she always did. That was until you and Isha came into her life and now she finally has something—someone—worth living for.

warnings -> none.

content includes -> just fluff.

Jinx didn't believe in happy endings. Not for her, not for anyone. Sure, people in Piltover might have them—their shining golden mansions and glittering dresses made them seem like they walked out of fairy tales. But here in Zaun? Happy endings were as real as unicorns, and Jinx would sooner blow herself up than believe in that kind of nonsense.

She had convinced herself she didn't care.

That was until you came along. And then later, Isha.

————

The first time she met you Jinx didn't think much about you. You were just another face in the crowd of Zaun, another person struggling to make it through the grime and smog. She’d been trailing through the streets, looking for some scrap or bauble to turn into her next explosive creation.

And there you were, crouched in some abandond alley with your hands tangled in wires, fiddling with some broken-down device. You didn't even look up when she stopped next to you, a hand resting on her hip as she watched you.

"Hey, you planning on blowing that thing up, or is it just me?

You jumped, your head smacking against the device. Groaning, you rubbed at your scalp and turned to glare at her. "What do you want?"

Jinx tilted her head. "Ooh, feisty. I like that." She crouched next to you, her eyes darting over your work. "What's this supposed to be?"

"Nothing you'd care about."

"Try me."

You let out a sigh, but humored her. "It's a transmitter. Or it's supposed to be. Trying to fix it so I can get in touch with someone topside. Supplies down here are running thin."

She knew should've walked away. Jinx never got involved with other people's problems. It was easier this way: to keep to herself and keep the world at arm's length, to keep her heart safe, she couldn't handle loosing anyone else.

But something about you made her want to stay, something about you made her want to get to know you better, to open up her heart to you.

"Supplies, huh? Tell you what," she said, standing and shouldering her gun. "You make that thing work, and I'll make sure nobody messes with you until then."

You blinked at her warily but curiously. "Why?"

Jinx shrugged, a lopsided grin spreading across her face. "Call it a hunch. You seem… fun."

————

That was the start. You didn't trust her that much at first—who would? Jinx was chaos in human form, a whirling dervish of energy and bad decisions that sane people crossed the street to avoid, not to mention a wanted crimial. But she kept her word. For weeks, she stuck around your jury-rigged workshop, chasing off the more common sorts of Zaunite pests.

And against your better judgment, you began to grow accustomed—and even attached—to her.

Jinx was actually good company when she wasn't blowing things up. She had a way of making you laugh, even when the transmitter refused to cooperate. Her stories—wild and half-believed—painted in the picture of a girl who hurt more often than she let on.

One night, with the both of you sitting on the rooftop of a crumbling building, she turned to you, her usual manic grin replaced by something softer.

"Why're you still here, anyway?" she asked. "Zaun's a dump. You could've gone topside ages ago."

You fumbled for words, gazing fixedly out across the glowing neon lights of the skyline. "Zaun's home," you said finally. "It's messy, yeah, but… it's mine. People up there wouldn't understand."

For once, Jinx didn't have a snappy comeback. She just nodded, the understanding in her eyes making your chest tighten.

————

Then came Isha.

Jinx had always been good at finding trouble, and it just so happens that a little girl fell on top of her while running away from bad men.

Jinx protected her, of course, the guys weren't even a match to her so it was incredibly easy. By the time the dust settled, the little girl was staring at her, wide-eyed and breathless.

"Yep, that's me." Jinx said as the two looked at the wanted posters of her, "You ever need to curse a sibling or a family or a society... my card." she said as she started walking away.

The little girl immediately followed her, trying her best to catch uo with her, her little eyes filled with amazement.

Soon Jinx was at your workshop with the little girl trailing behind her. You immediately noticed the two, raising your eyebrow as you glance between Jinx and the girl.

"She yours?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

Jinx shrugged. "I dunno. She just kinda started following meu."

You sigh, looking at the little girl then at Jinx. "Well, she's staying. She'll be safer with us."

Jinx didn't argue.

————

Months passed. The three of you became an odd little family, bound together by circumstance and something deeper that none of you could quite name.

You and Jinx spent your days scavenging and fixing whatever you could get your hands on, while Isha stood watch, her quiet presence a constant comfort, sometimes she would even help you two.

For the first time in a long while, Jinx felt something close to peace.

She would never admit to it, not even to herself, but she began to look forward to the moments when you'd smile at her, your laughter filling up the empty spaces in her mind. She loved the way Isha would hold onto her, a silent reminder that she wasn't alone anymore.

And then there was the way you looked at her.

Jinx had seen a lot of things in her life, but she'd never seen anyone look at her the way you did. Like she was more than just a ticking time bomb. Like she was worth something.

It scared her.

But it also made her want to be better. For you.

————

It was one of those nights when the city weighed heavier than usual. You were tinkering with a new device that aimed to channel Zaun's toxic air into something breathable. Jinx sat beside you, mimicking your actions but with one of her bombs instead as Isha layed her head in Jinxs lap sound asleep.

"Do you ever think about leaving?" You asked her, looking up to look at her.

Jinx froze, her fingers mid-twist. "What, like… Zaun?"

You nodded, not looking at her. "Yeah, starting over somewhere else. Somewhere quiet."

For a moment, she didn't know what to say. The idea of leaving Zaun had never crossed her mind. This place was her hell, but it was also her home.

But then she looked at you, at the way the dim light caught the curve of your face, and she wondered if maybe, just maybe, there could be something more.

"I dunno," she said finally, her voice quieter than usual. "Maybe."

You turned to her, your expression soft but searching. "If you ever wanted to… I'd go with you, Isha would too."

Jinx's heart stuttered in her chest. She looked away, trying to mask the way her cheeks flushed. She looked down at Ishas sleeping form, her hands playing with the young girls fluffy hair.

"Yeah, well," she muttered, "don't go making promises you can't keep, alright?"

But the way you smiled at her made her wonder if you meant it.

————

The world didn't change overnight. It never does. But for Jinx, it didn't need to.

She had you. She had Isha.

And for the first time in her life, she thought that might just be enough.

Because when she looked at you, she saw something she never thought she'd have.

Home.

And that was worth living for.

[shiimmer]

cherry kiss

sevika x f!stripper!reader

warnings! pole dancing (if that can be taken as a warning), public sex(??), fingering, orgasm denial, pussy slapping, slight choking, cunnilingus, masturbating, hair pulling, dom!sevika, sub!reader, sevika is a bit mean but we love it, she gets called ma’am once

men and minors dni!!

no mentions of y/n, but reader is called by her stage name cherry

word count: 3.4k words (i got a little too passionate…)

ৎ୭ summary: sevika found herself in a strip club, only to end up getting a lot more than a simple lap dance.

note: wrote smut for the first time in years, and idk how to feel. excuse me if this is absolutely shit, i was sleep deprived every time i was writing this. sorry for any errors, english isn’t my first language. not proofread!!

it isn’t exactly the place sevika usually finds herself in. strip clubs are not her thing. she prefers action over mere watching, but today just wasn’t it. not even a good lay in babette’s brothel can save her sour mood, which is more than surprising even for her. she doesn’t even know why she’s here. she just needs a distraction, and she knows the quietness of her place would only deepen her stress, which is something she really does not want right now, no matter how well she can handle it.

so here she is, in a strip club, surrounded by cheap smelling perfume, neon signs casting some light around the dimly lit place. boasting laughter, cheers and all sorts of other noises she’d rather block out from men around her fill her ears as they watch women dancing on the stage and sway around the pole. sevika, however, is completely silent. almost eerily so.

she just watches. glares, more like as she sits in the booth, awaiting another stripper nicknamed cherry, as the announcer says. ‘silly choice of a name,’ she thinks. her leg bounces under the table, swirling the whisky she just took a sip of on her tongue as the curtain spreads open, revealing you, and her body goes still. it’s like a spell, and sevika isn’t quite sure what has her so mesmerized the second you appear on that long, runway-like stage, neon lights shining on your almost naked body, the way they enhance the confident aura you give out. her grey eyes are focused solely on you, almost as if she’s judging your every movement. from the sway of your hips, to the subtle bounce of your breasts in that skimpy red bra as you stride toward the pole and your fingers wrap around the metal one by one.

a low hum rumbles in the back of her throat, a mixture of curiosity and appreciation while watching you perform. you clearly know what you’re doing, that sevika can see, and it works. even on her. she’d rather die than admit it out loud to anyone, but you have your charm to you and she likes it.

it’s like she’s not even blinking, at least that’s how it feels to you. you notice the woman’s gaze the second you approach the pole, and how it never moves away, not even when she takes a sip of her whisky. your coworkers shared their experience whenever they left the stage, saying how sevika’s glare caused them to nearly mess up their performance. in all honesty, it had made you nervous yourself while you waited for your own turn. dancing before a woman of such power, it’s nothing like dancing for all those nobodies who salivate over a sliver of skin shown. but as you had taken a first step on that stage, with your gaze immediately falling on her, all of that vanishes into something else, something you just can’t explain with words.

you give it your all, making sure to give her the show she never forgets and possibly needs, based on the worn out look she wears on her face. your body moves to the rhythm of the same song you always have to dance to. the song you’re normally so sick of, now gives you a rush. you dance with newfound passion, happy to show off your skills and body to silco’s number two. you play with her, yet you give her the most of you. fingertips lingering on your skin a second longer as you caress your body, from your hips to your breasts. looking over your shoulder when you’re turned towards the pole, the corners of your lips twitching up when you bend forward, showing off your thong-clad rear. it’s all for her, and you are absolutely enjoying the attention.

the endless cheering and lewd comments from men are fully blocked in your mind, your goal as clear as piltover’s sky. you want to make this woman watch you until the very end, to have her gaze on you and you only.

and oh, does it work. sevika’s gaze does not move away from you even when your performance ends and you go back backstage, and you’re certain her eyes are focused on your thighs as you walk. the euphoria you feel after this dance was nothing you’ve ever experienced. for the first time since working here, you’re almost disappointed that you had to leave the stage. your theme song that usually drags on suddenly felt short. you want to give her more of you, all of you.

you sulk in your seat, fixing up your neatly done makeup. there isn’t any need to fix it, you just want to get your mind off of the woman, but it’s completely useless. her grey eyes pollute your brain, and you can still see them when you close your eyes. never in your life were you this desperate for someone, it’s almost embarrassing. you sigh and put the makeup brush done, pursing your lips together. you wonder if you’ll see her again, if you’ll get to dance for her just like you had just a moment ago. you would give her more than just a plain dance show, so much more.

your thoughts get abruptly interrupted by your boss, her voice loud and demanding as she calls out to you. all you can do is hold back an eye roll and get up from the chair, making her way over to her with a look that can only be described as ‘i don’t get paid enough for this.’

“you’re expected in the vip salon,” she bites, her wrinkles crinkling under that heavy layer of makeup. “it’s a very important guest. don’t fuck it up.”

she taps your chest with her point finger, long nail stabbing your skin, and leaves the backstage. you watch her arrogant stomp, scoffing under your breath as soon as she’s far enough from you to not hear it. she calls every guest important, even the scummiest man in zaun is a ‘special guest.’ you know why she says it, she wants you to do your best, to not embarrass her brand, but it quickly gets annoying than encouraging.

your heels thump against the floor as you walk slowly to the salon, your mind running at full speed. you can only hope it’s sevika, but a part of you doubts it. there is no way she liked your performance so much she’d pay for private dance, right?

oh, how wrong you were.

the second you open the fluffy curtain, you’re met with those same steel eyes, belonging to none other than sevika. you eye her up and down, taking in the way she sits on the couch, her muscular thighs spread open and her exposed arm thrown over the backrest. you linger on the bare part of her lower stomach, abs peeking out of the crop top and v-line disappearing under the waistband of her pants. it’s a downright sinful sight, almost picture worthy.

“i didn’t pay for you to just stand there, did i?” her deep voice catches you off guard, and your eyes travel back up to her face. she’s smirking at you, fully aware of your gawking.

you can only pray to janna to survive this dance, secluded in a small room with this dangerously sexy woman.

“right. sorry,” you give her a small apologetic grin while walking to the small music box in the corner to tune in a song.

your hands are shaking a little, but it’s hardly nervousness. it’s excitement, anticipation, maybe even a hint of arousal. your blood is running hot, and you can feel a kick of energy, as if dosed on shimmer. none of your customers made you feel this way, but her.

your hands are already wrapped around the silver pole with your back facing her, ready to move to the music until her voice echoed in your ears.

“come here.”

your whole body stiffens, the music blocked out in your mind. being a stripper for years, never had you actually danced in front of a client. it’s sort of a rule for you; just watch but no touch, but when it comes to sevika, you are more than ready to forget it all just to please her. you pull yourself away from the pole and walk up to her, hands running over your sides. her eyes never leave your face and, by the gods, shivers run down your spine in waves, running all the way between your legs.

three more steps, and you finally stand between her spread thighs, and only now that you stand so close you notice just how damn thick they are. she looked better up close, no art or photo of her could do her justice, that you are sure of. a smirk makes its way on sevika’s lips as she watches your hips sway, your fingertips tap and stroke your skin. she is so into it, her hand is practically itching to just grab you by the waist and drag you down on her thigh.

it’s as if your minds link for a moment, because your smaller hand finds hers, guiding it to your stomach. sevika doesn’t react, at least not visibly, though you can’t say that about yourself. the second her rough, calloused palm runs over your abdomen to your hip, your body reacts on its own, almost like it isn’t even connected to your brain. she pulls you down on her leg, chuckling under her breath as your breath hitches. she has you where she wants you, and you can only comply to her every wish.

“babette’s is a few blocks away, y’know?” you mutter breathlessly, and you can only curse yourself out for how affected you are by her mere presence. it’s embarrassing, humiliating even, but you are oh so close to not give a single fuck. “someone can catch us here.”

sevika chuckles once more, liking your slightly mouthy attitude. it makes her want to put you in your place, take out her bad mood on you in all the ways she can. “by the way you’re reacting, i doubt you even give a damn,” her voice fills your ears, laced with a playful biting tone. “cherry.”

you suddenly feel coldness of a metal on your arm, pointy ridges of metal fingers digging into the flesh. she moves you around like a rag doll, like you weight nothing to her, until you straddle both of her legs and your thighs are spread apart. “tell me, what kind of services can you offer for extra coin?” she teases you, her thick fingers toying and pulling on the string of your thongs, making it snap back to your skin. “besides a little lap dance.”

the air is thick with tension, pushing down on your shoulders. it’s an intense, sexual sensation, one you can barely get enough of. you feel as if you are getting dragged by the ankle into the deep pit of unbridled lust, and it bubbles deep in your belly. you crave her.

you yearn for her.

“for you? anything,” you muster up the last bits of your attitude and smirk at her, your hand coming up to her right shoulder to steady yourself. “free of charge.”

it’s all sevika needs, and in a matter of seconds, she pounces on you, her lips running along your pulse. she doesn’t kiss, not yet. she merely toys with you, shapes you to her liking until you are but a mess. every touch of hers has a purpose, and unlike in a brothel, she is taking her sweet damn time. she’s frustrating herself by this point, all of the shit she had to deal with were simmering under the lid and ready to leak out, but something in her told her to utterly wreck you.

the music continues to play, silencing every small noise that escapes from your mouth. her fingers start to travel lower, following the fabric of the lace until the fingertips hover just above your clothed clit. she doesn’t even brush over it, yet you can feel your cunt clench around nothing. you bit on your bottom lip as sevika’s fingers linger on your thong, cheap cherry taste of your lipstick hitting your tongue.

“means that i can do this, right?” she asks into your skin, finally putting pressure on your clit. you jump in her lap, the sudden touch making you flinch away.

sevika doesn’t let you move away. she only chuckles when her mechanical arm goes down to your hip, pinning you to her lap like you are her trophy. there is no way she’s letting you go now, she wants to see you tremble.

your mind is hazy, and so foggy you can barely think of anything other than her, and the feeling of her fingers circling over your sensitive clit.

“do anything you want. i’m here to give you a show, aren’t i?” you try to keep your bravado, but it collapses like a house of cards the second her hand slips under the fabric, touching your cunt.

“fuck, you’re wet,” she laughs at you, pulling away from the crook of your neck to look into your eyes. “are you that desperate, or what?”

you cry out in pleasure as an answer, which is all she needs. her fingers tease your clit, circling it, pinching it between her thumb and point finger, which only makes you wetter for her. it’s as if you’ve never had a good fuck in your life, and she is there to fix that.

sevika continues to tease you for a few lingering seconds, simply enjoying the sight of you crumbling beneath her touch, until she moves lower and leaves your swollen bundle of nerves twitching, yearning for contact. she doesn’t waste time to slip not one, but two of her fingers into your drenched hole, stretching it out.

“oh fuck,” you groan out once you feel her fingers move, pumping into you in a rough, but slow pace.

she keeps them curled just right, brushing over that sweet spot that makes your back arch and your eyes roll back. it’s clear that she is experienced, because she knows just how to touch you to keep you shivering in her lap. you drop your head to look at her hand moving between your legs, but sevika doesn’t allow you that for long.

her prosthetic hand shoots up to your neck, cocking your head upwards to keep you from looking away. she only applies little pressure to your throat, not hard enough to choke you out, but rather a little warning.

“eyes on me, cherry,” she rasps out, her eyes so intense it sends shivers down your spine. “be a good girl.”

her voice has you clenching around her fingers, pathetic mewls of pleasure rolling out of your mouth. you have no choice but to keep your gaze on her, your sight blurry and slightly unfocused as sevika’s fingers continue to fuck your cunt. as much as she enjoys the sounds you’re making, your voice is slowly starting to get louder than the music that still plays in the background.

with the metal hand on your throat, she tugs you forward, crashing her lips on your in a bruising kiss to swallow the moans you’re letting out. she doesn’t give you a chance to let you dominate the kiss as her tongue slides into your mouth. she is in charge, and she’s letting you know it.

the taste of hard liquor and smoke hits your tongue, but you’re too deep in pleasure to cringe at the taste. in all honesty it turns you on even more. the sensation of her thick fingers, pumping in and out of your drenched pussy combined with her mouth on yours make you go crazy. you are so close, your orgasm just a few thrusts away.

the way your walls clench and unclench tells sevika that you’re about to cum, but where is the fun in giving you what you want so early. she pulls her fingers out, and when you try to whine in protest, she lands a few hard smacks on your cunt. you can feel the slaps even through the fabric of your lingerie, that’s how rough she is.

“not yet, cherry. i’m far from done with you,” she mumbles when she pulls away from the kiss, her lips glistening with the mixture of your and her saliva. she grins, reaching for one of many fluffy cushions and throwing it on the floor underneath you. “on your knees.”

she lets go of your throat, letting you sink down on the floor. your knees nuzzle into the softness of the pillow, hands falling on the buckle of her belt to undo it. sevika lifts her hips when you unbutton her pants, letting you pull them down along with her underwear. she pulls one leg out to spread her legs more, giving you space to get closer.

you don’t dive in right away. instead, you run your tongue over her thighs, all while looking up at her. it’s like your little revenge on her for teasing you before, and for not letting you cum. sevika grits her teeth, her nostrils flaring a little. a woman normally with patience of steel is suddenly a ticking bomb, ready to explode.

her real hand moves to your hair, grabbing a fistful of the strands. she doesn’t pull at it, but her grip is tight. “don’t test my patience. not today.”

the tone of her voice, authoritative and commanding gives you chills, your cunt once again clenching around nothing. your eyes wander over her body until it stops on the wet mess between her muscular legs, and that’s all it takes to convince you to give her what she wants.

“yes, ma’am,” you whisper, and sevika’s grip on your hair loosens just enough for you to move.

with one final glance at her face, you delve your tongue into her cunt, moaning at the taste of her. your nose nudges against her swollen clit, which makes her let out a deep moan. her whole expression falters as you eat her out, curses and noises escaping her mouth like a mantra, a sinful prayer.

“you’re good, cherry,” she praises you breathlessly, fingers combing through your hair. “you sure you – oh, fuck – didn’t choose a wrong profession?”

you don’t give her an answer, your mouth being too busy with her pussy to talk. you eat her like a woman starved, like she is your last meal. you can feel her slick staining your chin, but you can hardly care. you only have one goal in mind, and that’s to take her over the edge.

your own cunt throbs whenever she moans, or accidentally tugs at your hair when your tongue laps at her clit. you’re desperate for release, just as you are desperate for her. your hand slowly slides into your panties, chasing your orgasm as your fingers rub your clit.

sevika can see what you’re doing, but all she can think about is how well your mouth pleases her. she tries to compose herself, to last longer, but the burning sensation in the pit of her stomach is getting unbearable, the coil ready to snap at any moment. all she needs is one final push.

and you give it to her. your lips wrap around her clit, sucking on it, which is what sends sevika over the edge. she throws her head back and moans out loud, not even caring who might hear outside of the salon. she cums into your mouth, her thighs squeezing your head. your own orgasm follows right after, and you whimper into her cunt. your back arches, you can’t pull away nor can you catch a breath, not when her muscular thighs keep you in a lock. your whole lower face is buried in her cunt for a few seconds, and you have to tap on her thigh to let you go, your lungs begging for air.

she looks down at you and realization hits her, her legs spreading apart again to let you move. you both gasp for air when you pull away, pants filling the room. the music stopped playing a while ago, and it dawns on you that your time with her should’ve ended minutes ago. yet you find yourself unable to actually leave the salon, not when you have just silco’s second-in-command cum like that.

sevika, who is not in a better state than you, feels the same. she grins down at you, her hand caressing your hair with gentleness that’s almost uncharacteristic to her.

“you may be a stripper, cherry, but i think you just found yourself a regular.”

[luveline]

Hii, Jade 🤍 please bring back singledad!spencer, reader and Amanda 🥹 they r so special

—Spencer experiences your first Spencer-brought-upon baby fever, to his shock. fem, 2k 

(cw: reader is written as enthusiastically wanting kids) 

Spencer’s been reading to Amanda since the moment she could open her eyes. By two months she was cooing in delight whenever he spoke, and that included during story time. He didn’t mind that she didn’t understand, he just loved being with her. He still does. 

So when Amy interrupts your conversation to beg for him to read her something, he gives you an apologetic look, asking, “Do you mind?” 

“Of course I don’t mind.” You wouldn’t, you’re like an angel, leaning back on the couch with little urgency as Amy climbs into Spencer’s lap.

“Thank you. Sorry for interrupting,” Amy says. 

“Gosh, you’re so smart,” Spencer says, tucking a curl of her hair behind her ear. “Interrupting, that’s a big word.” 

“Go ahead,” you say, getting comfortable in front of one of Spencer’s woven cushions. “I’ll listen too, if that’s okay.” 

Spencer opens the storybook to the first page. Amy likes this one. The corners of the pages are soft with use. “Cerys’ Brave Day,” he begins, grinning as Avery pushes herself up his chest to look down at the illustrations. “Cerys wakes up without mommy. Cerys makes her own way out of bed. There is no mommy to wipe her face or brush her hair. My mommy, she thinks, is not there.” 

Amy smiles into Spencer’s cheek. He wraps an arm around her, as if to say, I know, angel, it’s exciting. “Her mommy must be having a slow day. She doesn’t appear to give Cerys any help. And Cerys says–”

“No way!” Amy finishes, pointing at the drawing of a bathroom sink and toothbrush. “I don’t want to brush my teeth by myself!” 

It goes on like that for some time. Spencer notices you getting closer as he goes on, your arm pressing to his side. 

Cerys finds that her mommy is having a slow day. Cerys’ mommy is just as loving as the other mom’s, but sometimes she takes longer to help Cerys brush her hair, and get dressed. Cerys has to be a brave, smart girl, and help her mommy with the small things. Spencer enjoys it, and thought it was a great expression of empathy for Amy to one day understand.

“Later, when mommy feels better, she says I’m sorry for being so slow. Mommy didn’t mean to forget her, she just struggles to get up and go. 

“Cerys doesn't want her to be sorry. She loves helping her mommy out. Because mommy loves Cerys, and Cerys loves mommy, and that’s never been in any doubt.” 

Amy turns her face to Spencer with a huge smile, somehow bigger than when it started. “I love that story,” she says. 

Spencer lets the storybook fall closed in her lap. “It’s a good one, huh?” 

“What do you think, Y/N?” Amy asks. 

You’re delighted by Amy in a way Spencer’s used to seeing in the mirror. “I loved it. Daddy’s a good storyteller, and you’re such a good assistant. You know lots of the big words.” 

She preens. “Thanks.” 

You can’t resist her, pushing against the top of her head with a nice palm. “You’re welcome.” 

“Can we have another one?” she asks. 

Spencer checks the time on his watch. Amy realised it was bedtime before he did, it seems. “Come on, lovely girl. Let’s start getting ready for bed, and you can have any story you want.” 

He’s obviously not expecting you to leave, but at the same time, things are new enough between you that when he asks if you want to sleepover, your grinning “Yes, please,” throws him for a loop. 

You have spare clothes and toiletries in the bedroom. You ask to take a quick shower and get all smiley and shy when he says you never have to ask. 

“So dad,” Amy says. 

“So Amy,” he says, pulling down the blankets on her bed. She has five layers because suddenly November is cold. He wonders if she needs a sixth. 

“I can’t sleep in the big bed tonight.” 

“Well, that depends on how badly you want to.”

“Really?” 

“You’ve known Y/N for a long time, right? She’s been my friend for a long time, before she was my partner. I think she’d be okay with having you sleep in the big bed again if you need to. It was your place before it was her place, and she knows that.” 

“Well…” 

He grabs her under the arms and places her in bed. She could use her stepping stool, but he likes picking her up and putting her down. It makes him feel super paternal. “Just think about it, angel. If you change your mind, you can just come and knock the door. 

“Promise?” 

“Honey.” He kisses her forehead twice, before pulling the blankets up over her, and turning on her mushroom night light. “How’s that? Okay, I promise you can still come knock my door. Cross my heart.” 

“Can you stay for a little?” she asks. 

Spencer sits on her bed by her legs. They feel weirdly small under his hand despite the padding he’s given her. “Babe, are you sure you’re warm enough? This does not feel like enough blankets.” 

“It’s loads. Give me a hug.” 

Spencer lays down in her bed, almost falls off, and covers her with his arm. Their curls tangle together on the pillowcase. 

“Like this?” he asks. 

“Exactly.” 

“Amy, you’re using such big words, you’re so smart.” He’s gonna take her for an assessment at some point. He doesn’t care if she’s super intelligent or not, but lately it’s like she’s so much older than she is. A few days ago she said the word discombobulated. “My smarty-pants.” 

“I like big words,” she says. 

“I love you.” 

“I love you, too.” 

“Remember what Amanda means?” he asks. 

Amy giggles as he shakes her by the tummy. “She who must be loved.” 

“Exactly. Loved by everyone, deserving of love. Always, from the second you were born!” He leans down to kiss her cheek, meeting her eyes as he pulls back. “Okay?” 

She certainly feels loved, he’d wager. He loves her so much it’s like an extra part of his soul in another person. “Story?” she asks. 

“Yes, I did say we’d have one, didn’t I?” He’d almost forgotten. Spencer grabs a couple of her soft backs from the book stand and lets her choose. 

After he’s read a few books and given her a couple of cuddles, Amy begins to list. She presses her nose to his shoulder and mumbles something he doesn’t hear. 

“What did you say, sweetpea?” he mumbles. 

“Just goo’night.” 

“Goodnight. I’ll tuck you in, okay?” 

“Spence?” 

He’d almost forgot you were here. You’re standing in the doorway, arms still damp, pyjama pants stuck to your calves. “Where’s the fire?” he asks. 

“What?” 

“In a rush?” 

“Oh, I just wanted to hear story time. Did I miss it?” 

Spencer kisses Amy again. “I think so. I’m just saying goodnight.” 

You lean against the door. “Goodnight, then, lovely girl.” 

Spencer forces himself up to tuck her in. “Goodnight,” he says again, stroking the hair from her eyes, though they’re closed already. She doesn’t manage to say goodnight back, just touches his arm before he goes. 

You take his hand when he’s close enough. He follows, pressing his face to your shoulder from behind. 

“I like watching you be a dad.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Mm, you’re good at it. It’s… I don’t know, I know Amy isn’t my baby, but I do love her, so it’s never not gonna be nice to watch you, and… I’m worried to say this.” 

“Just say it.” 

“Maybe one day, I…” You catch his eye and give him a panicked smile. 

You climb into bed together. He tries to get you to finish what you’d been saying but doesn’t succeed, no matter how nicely he draws that shape you love into your neck. It’s alright, though. It doesn’t matter. He nearly forgets you’ve brought it up at all until you’re lifting yourself up from your place on his chest. “Spence?” you ask, so close it makes him nervous, his stomach twitching of its own volition. 

“What?” he asks. 

“I know it’s soon. I know we’re not… locked in. I was just thinking about our future and our family, and I’m really happy. And– and if you did want to, I guess I wanna know if… would you ever have more?” 

“More kids?” he asks, dumbfounded. 

Your pupils are massive, staring down at him, giving your eyes this darkness so rare in your gaze. “Have you ever thought about it?” 

“Of course I have, especially with you.” 

You fluster but push through. Your laugh warms his lips as you lean down. “Don’t say that.” 

“Isn’t that what you just said?” 

You kiss him. He lifts his chin too fast to follow you and ends up pushing you away. His cheek is burning in your hand, your index finger to the corner of his eye and so, so tender where it touches an eyelash. “Amy’s so much like you, honey,” you say, tucking a long flyaway strand behind his ear. “And it’s all you.” 

Spencer wonders if you’re perhaps entering the ovulation stage of your period, but forbids himself from asking, should he sound like a freak. But surely you can’t be feeling as strongly as you are about this from story time alone. He’s not that good at telling them. 

“It’s not all me. Amy’s herself, and she’s parts of everyone she’s ever met. I think she’s been a lot braver since she met you,” Spencer says. 

He’s not sure what he said there, but you peer down at him like he’s entirely new. 

“Spencer,” you murmur, drawing a line across his cheek.

“I’d love to have a baby with you, I just thought saying that might be too much too soon.” 

“Well, it is,” you say, sounding insanely pleased, at odds with your words, “that’s so soon. You shouldn’t say stuff like that.” 

He thinks he gets it. Spencer covers your hand where you’re been caressing his cheek and brings it to his mouth, giving your knuckles a kiss. “You’re already so caring, you’ll make an amazing mother.” 

“Not just if we have babies though.” 

“No, I know.” His hand acts for itself as he tucks your hand against his neck. “Amy loves you.”

“She’s brilliant, Spence.” And whatever adoring you’d been ladening on him comes to an end. “Her vocabulary is insane for her age, she really is her father’s daughter.” 

You lay yourself across his chest again for a hug. 

Spencer applauds himself for surviving whatever that was. You, eyes dark and imploring, asking him about babies and touching him like that. “Amy would love a baby sibling,” he says. 

“How many should we have?” 

He laughs loudly. The taboo of everything being too soon is forgotten as you and Spencer talk about babies, houses, what middle school Amy might go to, what daycare you could send your babies to. It’s so exciting it makes his chest pang, thinking about living with you, about marrying you. And your enthusiastic answers make it worse. It’s clear you’ve thought about some of this stuff at depth. 

You could really get married one day, Spencer thinks. There’s a real possibility you might say yes. 

“Do you really think Amy wouldn’t mind a sister?” you whisper. 

“She’s asked me a couple of times how she can get one, so yeah. I think we can safely assume she’d like that.” 

“She asked you that?” you coo. “Aw, lovely girl, what did you tell her?” 

“Well, I told her she came from a pumpkin.” 

“You did?” 

“Mm. It was my fault then when she got very excited at Halloween.” 

You giggle into his neck. “When we have a baby, we’ll buy her a pumpkin.” 

“Or a squash, but I don’t think we could fit a baby in a butternut.” 

You hug him nice and hard. Spencer isn’t sure, but he suspects this is the beginning of a very new, very enjoyable chapter of your lives. Even more so when you nose at his jaw and mumble something about his ‘kissability’. 

[soundwavefucker69]

I don't share this often, but I am a trans man named Minty.

awhile after I got my legal name change, I asked my mom what she would have named me if I was a boy. she said Sebastian, and I groaned and complained that I should have asked before I got the name change, because I really DID like Sebastian now that it was occurring to me as a possible name and had ALWAYS liked Sebastian, even before my MCU days as a teenager. I had even considered it as an option but worried I'd end up looking like a weird fandom kid that had never let go of the MCU. if I had known that was the name my mother had picked for me, I would have had justification to choose it.

she asked me why I picked Minty then. i kinda paused in surprise because I thought it was obvious. and I was like. well. I wanted a name i felt like I could associate with childhood me.

after the first house we lived in was foreclosed on by the bank, we had to rent while my parents fixed their credit and swore never to get a fixer upper again. so we picked a nice house in our small town with only two real neighbors of note: an old lady, whose kids had forgotten about her, that lived way down the alley, around the point it turned from paved to dirt, the only house down there, who had a pomegranate tree in her ill-tended front yard, and a nice old lady next door that for some inexplicable reason had a miniature horse and a beautifully tended flower garden she had foolishly once planted mint in. she also had a very, very old fashioned rotary telephone. I mean the kind hardwired into the wall, of metal, with a speaker with a smooth wooden handle that sat neatly on top. not one of the plastic ones. the ones you see in old movies.

we loved these old ladies very much. the pomegranate lady was too old to keep up on her yard, so my brother and I would go with our dad to help weed whack and scrape up the dead leaves. we didn't offer too much, she was a proud sort, and couldn't pay us, but just enough to help out a little. and the mint in her flower garden lady loved it when we came by to say hi to her horse whose name I forget and loved to teach us how to garden.

she would send us home with mint. obviously. because when you have a mint infestation, well. it's pointless, but you gotta try anyway. and my mom would take that mint and make sun tea, just on the edge of not sweet enough, bc she was a bit of a crunchy mom, but not enough to reprimand me for sneaking a bit of sugar into my cup after to mix it up. (the sugar never dissolved right, especially after it was chilled, and i would always make a racket trying to get it to do so)

I told her I picked Minty because it ties me to my childhood. I didn't want to just cast it away. I wasn't Minty yet, but I also wouldn't be Minty without those days.

mom hasn't fully come around to me being trans. but she was quiet for a long, long time before she kind of whispered. I think I like Minty better than Sebastian. you should keep it.

my mom has always beat herself up over our childhood. she lacked a lot of stability in her upbringing and thought church was the way to go with my brother and I. unfortunately, she picked the wrong church. it was intensely traumatizing for us. we've had a lot of tough conversations about it. but I was able to tell her that day, you know Mom, I know you think you didn't do enough, but just know I'm not trans because you put me in a place where womanhood was miserable and I'm running from it. I don't remember much of the church, even though it consumed my life. what I do remember is my mother, the woman I may have complicated feelings towards, but have always admired and was always my standard for womanhood, being criticized by the other women for allowing me to read this book or that book and not bending or breaking under their rebukes for twenty years. I remember finding out as a twenty year old that I was the only "girl" in church that got the HPV vaccine, because you wanted to protect me, and not rely on chastity alone, like some sort of egotistical maniac who believed I'd always be your daughter, not a living breathing person that would make choices you didn't approve of as an adult, that shouldn't have to suffer for no reason from those choices. I remember you reading to my brother and I well into our teen years, using your acting talents that didn't blossom into the career you wanted to bring the characters in Peter and the Starcatchers to life. I remember listening to Lord of the Rings on cassette tape in the mini van, even though they said it was demonic when they found out. I remember the mom that let me be a tomboy. I remember the mom that would put on the Wind and the Willows on cassette from the library on rainy summer days and we'd listen to it and eat meatballs and spaghetti in the kitchen.

I told her, you're not a failure as a mother, and I didn't hate womanhood because of your example. it just didn't fit me. you made mistakes because you're human. I never thought of you as less than because you're a woman, and I didn't want to escape the cage you're thinking i wanted to escape.

my mom cried. I think that was the first time i made her cry and didn't feel bad about it.

anyways. not a soft memory, but it feels soft to me.

Tell me a soft memory

[y3sterdaysproblem]

smoke and mirrors - chris sturniolo

chapter nine - final

summary: your best friend Matt backs out of plans you had made together, so you replace him with his brother. the only problem is the two of you can’t stand each other.

{enemies to lovers, fake dating}

includes : explicit language, fluff, smut(penetration, oral, fingering, etc.), angst if you squint, lots of bickering, slow burn

wc: 3.7k

Chris had never bought a girl flowers before, so he was anything but confident when he walked into the local flower shop not far from his home, finally building up the courage to ask the girl he had fallen head over heels with on a date. She was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen, and he hung on every word she said, wanting to make her feel valued and heard when she spoke. He couldn’t imagine finding any girl prettier than her, it was impossible in his head.

When he finally picked out a bouquet, he paid happily with his allowance money that he’d saved for a couple of months now, wanting it to be the most beautiful bouquet she’s ever received. It made him giddy, knowing he was finally going to get an answer as to if she felt the same.

He kept the flowers hidden in his locker for the day, waiting until the end of the day to finally tell his dream girl how he felt. His nerves almost got the best of him, but he told himself it was now or never. He had to make his move.

But he couldn’t find her. Anywhere. He had looked in every room she could possibly be in, he had looked out front, he had even asked a girl to check the bathroom for him to see if she was hiding out with some friends. But it was to no avail.

Finally, as a last ditch effort, he decided to check the fields, see if she was hanging around waiting for football practice to start. She was so social and knew at least one person in every sport, so she loved to show support any time she could. He loved how supportive she was of her friends and their interests, even if she didn’t care for it herself, she was always around to let her friends know she had their back. She was so kind.

He was about to give up, for real this time, maybe just bring the flowers to her house later in the day, when he saw movement under the bleachers, and without thinking anything of it he peeked under, feeling like his heart audibly shattered in his ears when his eyes landed on you locking lips with some asshole jock that could never treat you right.

He couldn’t believe it. He was too late. He had missed his chance with you, and now he was just a fool standing around with a bouquet of flowers for nobody.

He quickly turned and started walking away, knowing he needed to get home as quickly as possible. His heart was broken, and there was nothing he could do to fix it.

When he finally arrived home after walking by himself, he looked for the only woman he knew would never break his heart, finding his mom in the kitchen starting to cook dinner. He walked up to her and handed her the flowers, smiling sadly up at her.

She grinned wide, not seeing how sad her son was in the moment, eyes locked on the beautiful arrangement of flowers in front of her. “Wow!” She exclaimed. “What’s this for, baby?”

Chris handed them off to her before wrapping his arms around her, resting his head on her shoulder. “You deserve it, mama.”

He has never and will never let his mom know how much that hug meant to him, and the tear that slipped out and landed on her shirt will always be his secret.

-

If having to love you in silence was suffering enough, loving you loudly and losing you was a million times worse.

Some moments he thought it might be easier to just run away from his life and start over, but nothing would rid him of the thought of you.

When he found himself at the flower shop, he couldn’t help but feel like the fifteen year old version of himself, pining over a girl he’d never get to call his own, desperately trying to win her over with a few words and a bouquet of flowers.

But he wasn’t going to let you slip so easily this time. This time he was willing to put up the fight.

-

Days had passed of Chris trying to contact you any way he could. Texts, calls, FaceTimes all ringing through your phone at almost every hour of the day, all going completely ignored by you, not having the energy to text him back, not wanting to open that wound just yet.

You knew you’d have to talk to him eventually, you couldn’t ignore him forever.

Matt had texted as well, trying to make sure you were okay, wanting to see if you needed anything, but you didn’t want to talk to him either. He had remained neutral through everything, but he was still too close to Chris for comfort right now.

You had spent the last few days cooped up in your apartment, either sleeping on your couch or your bed, not having the energy to do anything, barely even eating. You weren’t even hungry and couldn’t be bothered to make food that you wouldn’t even want to eat anyway, so you just rotted away with your thoughts, asking yourself over and over how you were so stupid to believe someone like Chris.

So many questions flowed through your head over those days. Why would he tell you he didn’t want to talk to her anymore? Why would he confess to you just to keep seeing other people? Why would he damn near tell you he loves you just to ruin everything?

Part of you hated Nick for ruining everything but another part of you was grateful to him for pulling the cover from your eyes, literally. If it wasn’t for him, you’d still be with Chris, sneaking around his brothers while the whole time he was sneaking around you.

You knew it was awful for you to do, but the first night when you got home, you found this Maya girl on instagram, scrolling through endless photos of a girl who you thought was so much prettier than you you almost couldn’t be mad at Chris for not being able to let her go. Of course he’d choose her, she was perfect. They still followed each other, too. Even after all of this, after you had found out, he still followed her. Maybe you were looking into this too deeply, but in your brokenhearted mind it all made sense.

Your phone rang again from where it was next to you on the couch, Chris’s name and a selfie you guys had taken together lighting up the screen. Every time you saw that picture your heart tightened in your chest. You both looked so happy, smiling wide like there was no place you’d rather be. You had no idea how things went so bad so quickly. Part of you wishes you could’ve lived in ignorance forever, never to find out the truth about Chris’s antics. You would’ve been so much happier.

“Stop tickling me, I want to take a picture!” You squeal at Chris, body curling away from him as his fingertips attacked your sides, something he couldn’t stop doing now that he knew you were ticklish, wanting to hear your loud giggles for the rest of his life.

“No pictures!” He opposes, but stops tickling you, pulling your body close to his where he stood.

You guys were out on what you guess you could call a date, exploring parts of the city you hadn’t seen before, popping into small gift shops occasionally, grabbing ice cream and little snacks you had come across throughout the day. You both had just left dinner and were just walking around now, you taking photos of whatever caught your eye, but now you wanted a photo of the two of you for your contact photo and just for the memory as well. You didn’t have many photos together yet, but you loved looking through the few that you had when you were alone, most of them either goofy photos of Chris or photos of him with the biggest smile in the world, lighting up your face every time you saw them.

“Please! Just one, I swear.” You beg him. He had his arms wrapped you from behind and his chin on your shoulder where he groaned loudly, which you giggled at, knowing he was about to agree.

“One,” he tells you and you squeal, bringing your phone up in front of you guys.

“Smile!” You tell him and he obliges, both of you smiling as wide as you can, him with his eyes clenched shut. You couldn’t help it, you snapped a few, continuing to take pictures when he turned his head into your neck and peppered kisses there before he turned back to the camera and flipped it off with a deadpan look on his face, making you laugh loudly as you put your phone away.

The memory fades from your mind as the call goes to voicemail, the fourth one today.

You couldn’t help but miss Chris, miss the way he made you feel. You didn’t understand how things turned bad so quickly when they were so good, good to the point where you thought for sure you had locked him down.

You groan to yourself, rubbing your eyes harshly, noticing the tears flowing intermittently from them. “Fuck,” you huff, annoyed at yourself.

You throw your lap blanket off of you and stand up from the couch, walking to your bathroom to wash your face, wanting to rid yourself of the days and days of tears, deciding it’s time to get over yourself and get back to life, not wanting to sit around and wallow over this boy who clearly didn’t care about you in the first place.

You’re just stepping into the bathroom when your doorbell rings, startling you. You whip your head around to the sound, heart racing. There was only one person that could be. He hadn’t tried coming to your home yet, only trying to contact you via phone, so you were unsure how you would get out of this. There was no way you could pretend you weren’t home, your car was right outside.

You wipe your face with your hands and walk to the door, standing directly in front of it. “Go away,” you say sternly, crossing your arms.

“Please let me in,” Chris pleads from the other side of the door.

“No,” you reply. “Go home.”

You hear Chris sigh loudly, then a small crinkle. “I’m already here, just let me explain, please. It’s not what you think.”

You debate it for a moment, wondering if you need the closure, but knowing you’re not ready yet. “Chris, leave. I don’t want to see you. Go bother your other fucking girlfriend.”

Girlfriend. That’s the first time you’ve even slightly referred to yourself as his girlfriend, and the circumstances of it almost made you laugh.

Chris is silent for a few beats, thinking of what to say next before he speaks again. “Let me in and let me explain and if by the end of it you never want to talk to me again I’ll respect that and leave you alone. I just can’t handle you thinking I would hurt you like that when I never would. Please.”

You consider it. If he’s serious and he would leave you alone, it might be worth it. Plus, you would get an explanation as to why he thought you’d never find out, why he thought you were the perfect person to hurt so badly.

You remain silent as you unlock the door, peeling it open slowly to reveal a disheveled Chris staring back at you. His hair was in his face, his face unshaven since you left, eyes red and puffy. Your eyes trail down to where he’s holding a large bouquet of your favorite flowers, wondering how on earth he knew what they were.

He holds them out to you and you just look back up at him, turning around and heading back in, going back to your couch and flopping down, waiting for him to reach you.

You hear the door shut and shoes being taken off before you see him again where he’s walking through your living room, placing the flowers down gently on the coffee table before he sits next to you, taking a deep breath.

“Is there anything you want to know specifically?” He asks you, to which you scoff out a laugh at, rolling your eyes.

“Yeah, I’d love to know why you played the fuck out of me while the whole time you were fucking somebody else behind my back. I’d love to know how you even had the fucking time when I was sleeping over almost every night, and the days I wasn’t there, you were here.” You snap at him, voice quivering as you speak. You couldn’t help it, you were sad and confused and the confrontation only made it worse. “You made me look like a fucking idiot not only to myself but in front of your brothers, too, and that is so fucking mean, Chris. I should’ve known it wasn’t all an act, you really are a fucking dick to me. There’s no way you could’ve treated me like that for the last however many years and it not be real.”

Chris sucks in a breath at the insult, your words feeling like a dagger to his heart. “It’s not true,” he croaks out. “Nick was wrong, he didn’t know what he was talking about.”

You shake your head, cutting him off. “You got caught, Chris, and now you’re trying to pick up the pieces. It’s over.”

Chris felt lightheaded, that sentence echoing loudly in his head. It’s over. It couldn’t be over, you guys still have so much more life to live together.

“No,” he starts, scooting closer. “No, no, you said you’d hear me out so hear me out. You’ve got this all wrong, Nick was wrong. I wasn’t seeing anybody but you, I wasn’t sleeping with anybody but you, you’re it for me, you’re my dream girl, please believe me.” Chris was full on pleading now, his own eyes welling with tears as he spoke. “I cannot lose you, you don’t understand how deep this runs for me. I’ll let you go through my phone, my texts, my instagram, fucking anything just to prove to you.”

You have to tear your eyes away from the begging boy beside you, afraid you’ll give in too easily if you stare him in the face. “Say whatever you want to say and then get out of my house.” You tell him, voice monotone.

Chris releases a shaky breath, knowing this is the only chance he’ll get. “Okay. I guess I’ll just tell you what I think you should know. I would never hurt you like that, I would never risk losing you for something so stupid like a date or sex. I’ve been thinking about you being mine for so long that even I wouldn’t be so dumb, I swear to you. The date Nick was talking about was a business meeting for my brand, he just assumed because he saw I was out to dinner and didn’t know where I was. I told you about that dinner, I literally left your place to go there. I already talked to him about it and he feels really bad for making you think that I was on a date. And the girl? Maya? I haven’t talked to her since before the wedding, she hasn’t even texted me, and I‘ll show you my phone, we haven’t talked. But I kept leaving and not coming back for hours or coming home with hickeys and they kept noticing so I had to tell them I was somewhere and I just said I was seeing her because you still wanted this to be between us.” Chris finally pauses and looks at you with a soft expression, hoping you would believe him. You didn’t speak though, staying still where you sat with your hands in your lap. “I could never live with myself if I lost you in such a stupid way.”

Your lip quivered and you dropped your eyes down to your hands, not wanting to cry again for the umpteenth time, especially in front of Chris, but the wave that hit you made it inevitable, a small, choked sob leaving your lips. “Why wouldn’t you say anything right then?” You ask him brokenly.

Chris scoots closer and places a hand on your thigh, other hand reaching for your cheek to pull your face up to his. “I was stunned in the moment, it all happened so fast. I didn’t even process anything until I had Nick damn near in a chokehold and Matt was trying to calm me down. He told me to give you space and that you needed time away so neither of us said something we don’t mean.”

You turn to face Chris, tears flowing freely from your eyes now as he spoke, emotions taking over. “I was so sad, Chris. I still am. I’ve been sitting here wallowing in my feelings for fucking days just thinking about how badly this hurt and how hard I fell for you.”

Chris’s thumb brushes over your cheek, listening to your words intently. “I know, baby, I know and I��m so sorry. I really am. I’ll do anything to make it up to you.”

“Why would you even think of bringing her up? Why did she even come to your mind when they asked you where you were? You could’ve just said you were with a girl but the fact that you told them you were with her is like… a punch to the face.” You tell him sadly, wiping your tears frustratedly. “Is she still on your mind?”

Chris immediately shakes his head, eyebrows furrowed. “No, absolutely not. She’s just.. sorry, she’s the last person I slept with and they knew about her so it was the easiest thing so they didn’t ask questions. She’s definitely not on my mind.”

You think over his words, still feeling apprehensive about it all, but wanting nothing more than to believe him. “I just don’t understand why you let me leave under the impression that you were seeing somebody else, Chris. It just makes me think you took these days to think of a good enough lie before coming here.”

Chris sighs, shoulders dropping in defeat. “I told you, I just panicked. I swear on everything, I swear on my brothers, baby, I’ve never been more serious in my life.”

You finally allow yourself to take in Chris’s disheveled appearance, realizing he looked just as bad as you did. He looked miserable.

“It’s gonna take a lot for me to fully trust you again but… I want to believe you so bad. So I do.” You tell him quietly. You’ve never seen such relief on Chris’s face before this moment, the way his eyes lit up and the corners of his lips curled, a breath of relief falling from his mouth.

“Thank you,” he says, reaching both hands out towards you in the hopes you’d close the gap between you both. “I’ll earn your trust back, I promise.”

You sniffle and nod, scooting closer so that you could swing your legs over his lap, resting your head on his shoulder. The room is quiet for a few moments, Chris gently rubbing your thigh with one hand while he held you close with the other, before you clear your throat gently. “How’d you know my favorite flowers?” You ask timidly.

Chris looks down at you, sucking in a deep breath. He knew this was the moment where he told you how he really felt and how deep it actually ran.

“You and Matt had a conversation a couple years ago and you guys were talking about flowers and you said these were your favorite, so I remembered in the hopes of getting to buy you them some day,” Chris starts out. “I don’t know if you remember when we went on that date and you yelled at me saying I didn’t know anything about you?”

You nod against his shoulder, prompting him to continue.

“I always made plans on your birthday because I thought you wouldn’t want me around. I always made sure I was busy, just so I didn’t have to deal with the disappointment of not being invited somewhere. I’ve always known when it is.” He sighs nervously, swallowing before continuing. “There’s a canvas in my room and it’s just all different shades of the same color; I’ve had it for about a year. I painted it after you posted this one photo to your instagram, the one where you have no makeup on and you’re facing the sun. I thought your eyes looked so pretty in that picture and I couldn’t tell you, so I painted them instead. Baby, I have been painfully in love with you for years and I’m not about to lose you over some stupid shit my brother said.”

You were blown away by his words, not even being able to comprehend someone being so head over heels for you that they’d do these things for you and suffer in silence, all because he thought your feelings towards him were nothing but negative. How would you possibly be able to stay away from him ever again, knowing what you know now?

You didn’t think you wanted to.

Chris slid you off his lap and sat you facing forward on the couch, moving to get on his knees in front of you, hands grabbing your own and holding them close to his chest. “I love you,” he tells you, not a shadow of a doubt in his voice. “I want to do this. For real.”

You stared down at the man in front of you, broken at the thought of losing you, but fulfilled at the thought of calling you his. It seemed like a no brainer.

“I guess I could suffer through being your girlfriend a little bit longer,” you tease, a smile lighting up your face.

Chris grinned with you, pushing himself up until your faces were aligned, lips molding together like you were made for each other.

Turns out your love wasn’t all smoke and mirrors.

-

a/n: (‘:

my babies are finally together

i’m so happy this is over!

thanks so much for all the love <3

feel free to send requests based on these characters or requests for new fics I love u guys so much always

- avery

taglist

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[wxwrites]

Arcane SFW & NSFW Headcanons! (f!reader, AFAB!reader)

Including: Vi, Caitlyn, Maddie, Mel, Jinx. (Disclaimer: I will only write SFW for Jinx, as her age is not fully confirmed.) This is so much longer than I meant for it to be. Enjoy!

WC: ~3k

JINX | SFW

 Jinx, who still doesn’t really know how to navigate relationships… at all. She’s shy and hesitant at first, entirely unused to the genuine connection and love. All she’s ever known is what feels like transactional affection, despite what Silco may have actually felt towards her. 

 She isn’t too comfortable with physical affection at first, a little wary that you’re out to hurt her. But, she’ll show her appreciation for you through handing you gadgets or trinkets she makes/finds. 

 As she grows more comfortable with you, she’ll finally start to open up and lean on you (literally and figuratively.) She’ll start to ramble about anything and everything on her mind, almost unaware that she’s actually doing it. 

 She’ll paint your nails to match hers, even including the same little face she put on her prosthetic. 

 She LOVES to braid your hair, and will take every opportunity to do so. Despite her hands being a little calloused from her tinkering, they’re still surprisingly soft and gentle as she rakes them through your hair.

 She is a genuine sweetheart! While she might come off really intense or a little wacky sometimes, her love for you bleeds through entirely. It’s obvious to almost everyone how much she loves you.

 She loves watching you play with Isha or talk to Sevika, tearing up as she watches her own happy little family form after so much tragedy.

 She hugs tightly, and I mean TIGHTLY. She’ll squeeze you to the point of almost feeling like your ribs are gonna crack.

VI | SFW 

 Vi, who is such a sweetheart. She wears her heart on her sleeve every second of every day. Prison may have hardened her when it comes to confrontation or battle, but she is like a puppy with you. 

 If she continues working for Caitlyn, she spends her money well. She gets both of you a nice apartment and takes you out on sweet little dates at least once a week.

 If she relies more on the bets and money from her pit-fighting, she’ll still do the same. While the apartment isn’t nearly as lavish, and the dates aren’t nearly as nice, she does everything in her power to make her as enjoyable as possible. 

 She prefers when you keep your hand wrapped around her bicep, rather than actually holding hands. 

 She lets you paint her nails and do her makeup as you please, enjoying the lovely grin the spreads across your face as you do it. 

 Absurdly gentle with you, always keeping a soft hand on your waist. Despite how rough she is with other people, her hands would never do the same to you. (Unless you ask for it ;)) 

 When you patch her up after a particularly rough fight, she’ll mutter a quiet “Thank y’baby.” And press herself closer to you, craving your space and comfort. 

 She is a little difficult to get to communicate properly, almost never having been listened to before. With enough patience and kind words, she’ll eventually crack and begin to trust you as she becomes more vulnerable.

 She lovesss to bury her face into the crook of your neck as she tightly wraps her bandaged arms around your waist, pressing a few gentle kisses to your shoulder and neck.

 She’ll tear up a little bit as you press gentle kisses to her tattoos, and especially the scars she adorns from her time in prison. 

 Not to mention that she is definitely obsessed with you.

NSFW

This might be a hot take, but I definitely see Vi as more submissive than dominant. Whether she’s fighting crime or other people, she definitely spends most of her day keeping everyone in check.

 So when she’s writhing against the bed and moaning for you to just touch her, you find it extremely difficult to not give her exactly that. She loves when you’re able to take her out of her head entirely, finally giving her the space to relax and to just not think for a bit.

 While she might be submissive, she still definitely likes to top. She likes knowing that she’s making you feel good and thrives off of the praise. So when you mutter a quiet “That’s my good girl.” She has to temporarily stop and get her shit together so she doesn’t cum on the spot. 

 She goes feral whenever you pull her hair or scratch down her back and arms, letting out a literal whimper. 

 As you straddle her lap and begin to ride her into oblivion, she’ll paw desperately at your hips and thighs. She’ll eventually reach up to grope your tits and mumble incoherent compliments, talking about how pretty you are and how good you feel. She especially likes it when you tighten your hand around her throat, hearing her own choked whimpers leave her mouth. 

 On the uncommon occasion she decides that she does want to be dominant, she’s still not very rough. Unless you explicitly ask for a meaner hand or words, she would never do it on her own. 

 Her favorite position is definitely doggy, she likes watching your ass bounce back against her hips as she smacks it and grips your hips tightly. She’ll keep one hand in between your shoulder blades, and the other next to your head as she drills into you. 

 She’ll pepper sweet kisses along your cheeks and lick the tears off, almost ecstatic at the fact that she has fucked you so good you started crying. 

 She loves sloppy kisses and sloppy head, moaning against your pussy as she nearly devours you whole, digging her hands into your thighs. She whines as you tangle your fingers into her hair and tug, feeling her own arousal begin to leak in between her thighs. 

 She is so good with aftercare, too. If she had been a little rough on you, she’ll kiss all of the bruises and scratches that she left and mutter quiet praises. She’ll wipe you down with a damp towel, giving you a quiet “‘M sorry, baby.” As she soothes the towel over your sensitive clit.

CAITLYN | SFW

Caitlyn, who takes after Cassandra in the way that she is a little stern with you. She doesn’t like it when you venture off without her, or at the very least someone else.

 She’s a little socially awkward, so you tend to take the lead at the galas or other social events she’s expected to attend. She likes when you keep an arm around her waist, or holding your hand. While most people are there to see her, you often lead the conversations anyway. 

 She loves when you show up to her office, your presence immediately forcing her posture and face to soften. Being in her position puts a lot of paperwork in front of her, and stress on her. 

 Whether you dance, play a sport, or perform in any other way, she will show up every single time. She’s running behind on a mission? She’ll finish it in record time so she’s able to make it for at least half of your show. 

 She’ll let you sit on the edge of her desk as she works, or will pull up another chair so you can sit next to her and read your own book or tinker with a little project. 

 She loves when you have to raise up on your toes to kiss her, chuckling as she pulls away each time you get close enough to brush your lips together. She’ll wrap her arms around your waist and pick you up off of your feet as she presses her lips to yours. 

 Once you guys are able to wind down in your shared apartment, she pulls you into her lap and holds you tightly. She’ll press gentle kisses onto your cheek and shoulders, telling you how grateful she is for you and how much she loves you.

 She will always appreciate when you make tea or cook for her, coming up behind you and wrapping her arms around you from behind. 

 She’ll take you out on little dates when she has the time, but otherwise prefers to take slow walks with you through her garden.

While she may be a little stern, she absolutely adores you, and trusts you with her life. 

NSFW

 Don’t get me wrong, she is so, so sweet. She’s doting and attentive, and will do almost anything you need from her. But you will work for it, no questions asked. 

 She’ll put you on your knees and make you beg for whatever you want. She’ll bind your hands behind your back with a new silken rope she bought and coo down at you, stroking her thumb over your bottom lip. She’ll coax your mouth open and feed you two of her fingers, grinning as you accept them sweetly.

 It’s quite obvious she can get prettyyyy freaky. Like we saw how she reacted when Vi spat on her cheek. I’d say that extends towards you, as well. She likes forcing you to keep your mouth open, and tongue flat against your bottom lip as she spits onto it, giving you a “Swallow it sweetheart, be a good girl.”

 I wouldn’t say that she’s a stone top, but she definitely prefers to give. I definitely think it comes from wanting to be in control and dominant. She differs from Vi in the sense that she doesn’t want to be out of control, ever. 

 Her long legs and overall strength gives her such a huge advantage over you. She loves to fold you over and press your knees to your chest as she fucks into you roughly. She does love to keep you on top, guiding your hips as you bounce on her strap, licking and sucking into the sensitive skin of your collarbones and boobs. 

 I don’t think she’d be someone who is super into degradation, but she might mutter something along the lines of “You’re such a pretty whore for me.” As she tangles her fingers into your hair and pulls your head back, forcing you to meet your own reflection in the mirror. 

 Any time you guys fuck, she will always remind you of how good you are. She nips at your ear and purrs, “That’s it pretty girl, you take me so well.” She mumbles, sucking a mark onto the side of your neck. 

 She takes aftercare very seriously, knowing that sometimes her treatment can take a toll on you. She’ll untie you slowly and work out the kinks of your tense joints, pressing kisses along the red marks the ropes left. She wipes the sweaty baby hairs from your forehead and presses a gentle kiss to it, helping you sit up. She’ll hold you for a bit and reassure you, murmuring quiet praises. Once you’re settled down, she’ll run a warm bath for both of you.

MADDIE | SFW

 Maddie, who is such a sweet, sweet girl. Her enthusiasm for everything around her is extremely contagious. She does her absolute best to make sure there is a smile on your face every day.

 She finds a way to balance her job as an enforcer and her relationship with you. While it’s a bit of a struggle sometimes because of how demanding Caitlyn can be, she puts in 100% of her effort to make it work.

 She prefers to stay inside rather than going out, pulling you next to her on the couch as you cuddle up and turn on a few movies or a show to binge. She likes when you put your legs over your lap and she can idly trace her fingers along your legs.

 She likes cooking and baking a lot, always making an excessive amount of food that you guys really can’t consume by yourselves.

 She’ll give you pancakes with a smiley face made out of chocolate chips and strawberries, pressing a kiss to your head as you dig into the breakfast. 

  She writes you notes every morning before she leaves for work and sticks them on the fridge, always containing some kind of compliment and an “I love you.” 

 She loves to write poetry as well, it’s her favorite way to express her love and gratitude for you. Which means that words of affirmation is definitely her love language, but physical touch is a close second.

 She loves going on bike rides around the city, especially when you get to the large botanical gardens and parks. She’ll pull over and buy whatever drink you’d like and a pastry, both of you settling on a bench in the park.

 She likes to point out all of the cute animals that prance around the area and gets extremely excited when they come over to you guys.

NSFW

 She is utterly enthusiastic every time you guys get intimate. I wouldn’t say that she’s inexperienced, but I definitely think she does still get a little nervous sometimes. She’s just absolutely infatuated with you and your pretty face makes her blush.

 She lovesss to makeout. Like, she would rather do that over having actual sex. She’ll straddle your lap and hold your jaw or thread her fingers through your hair. 

 When you guys do fuck, it’s a bit more vanilla compared to the others. She doesn’t strike me as an overly kinky person, but I feel like she does still have a few interests.

 She for SURE likes to give head, it’s probably her favorite pastime tbh. She will beg for you to ride her face regularly, moaning into you as she wraps her hands around your hips.

 Give her a little bit of praise and she’ll do anything you ask of her, especially if you call her pretty. 

She loves, loves, loves to ride your thigh. Something about it is so exhilarating, especially because she likes seeing the aftermath of it. She’ll happily lap her cum off of your leg, moaning as you guide her head with your hand. 

 She seems like the type to basically worship you, she would happily get on her knees as you grind yourself against her mouth with absolutely no complaints. 

 For sure adores seeing you in pretty lingerie, running her fingers over the lacy fabric as she kisses along the hem of your bra and underwear. 

 She’s definitely a bottom, like for SURE. She really likes missionary, especially when you pull her legs over your shoulders. The main reason she likes it is because 1. She likes to be underneath you, and 2. Because she still loves to look at you and kiss you. 

 While she doesn’t really like to top, she can still get a little bit of an edge to her attitude, teasing you as she nips at your neck and jaw. She’ll straddle your hips and press your back into the bed, slowly sliding her nails underneath your shirt and chuckle at the whines you let out. 

 Aftercare with her is really sweet as well. She likes to curl up in your arms and tuck her head under your chin as you pet her hair and press soft kisses all over her face. She likes to eat after as well, it helps her feel less shaky, so make sure you always have snacks nearby. 

MEL | SFW

 Mel, who loves so hard and sometimes really can’t control it. Her love is so intense it can truly be a little overwhelming sometimes. 

 She treats you with the utmost care and always makes sure that your needs are met. While being on the council does unfortunately consume most of her time, she does everything she can to make sure she is still as present as possible. 

 When she’s gone, she makes sure that there’s always a maid present with you, making sure that all of your needs are met when she can’t be there.

 When she is, she always likes to have a hand on you, whether it’s on your thigh, waist, whatever. She loves to touch you, and it often soothes her racing mind.

 Whenever you get sick or stressed, she pulls your head into your lap and will stroke her slender fingers through your hair. She’ll hum some kind of melody quietly and gently sway, lolling you to sleep. 

 She doesn’t like it when you get involved with politics or the council in general, simply wanting to protect you from the ongoing and unresolved issues. 

 She buys you new dresses regularly, always making you give her a little fashion show as you try them on.

 Her kindness is unwavering, but there is a layer of intensity and harshness beneath all of that. One that is very rarely ever shown, and if it is, it’s towards her mother. 

 She does everything she can to keep you far away from her ties to Noxus, especially when Ambessa comes to visit. She’ll use every excuse in the books to keep you separated, knowing that you and Ambessa would likely not get along. 

 She loves to take long baths together, especially when they’re decorated with candles, bath bombs, etc. She’ll turn on the record player as you guys bask in the warm water together, soaking up the intimacy that is sometimes difficult to be had. 

NSFW

 She is the biggest switch that has ever been written in a TV show, like really. Her role is kind of inconsistent, and changes quite often. I don’t think she has a preference, but sometimes I think there are some things that can definitely influence it. Rough day at work and she’s irritated? You’re gonna get bent over her desk. If she feels utterly defeated, she’d rather you take the lead so she can ignore her problems for a bit. 

 Speaking of being bent over her desk, it’s one of her favorite things to do. She’ll gently push you forward, keeping a hand between your shoulder blades as she grinds against your ass. But she really only ever does this at her office at home, she tries very hard to keep your relationship away from work.

 She loves when you take off her shoes and tights, kissing your way up her legs as you hike her dress up to her hips. She loves to hold onto your head as you lick and suck your way up her thighs, pushing her backwards onto the bed. 

 She highly enjoys straddling your face, moaning loudly as she grabs onto the headboard. She’ll grind her pussy against your mouth and whimper as you reach up to grope her chest.

 When she’s topping, she likes having you in missionary so she can watch your eyes roll back and whimper. If she’s bottoming, she prefers to ride you because it makes it easier for her to rub against the most sensitive spots inside of her. 

 She likes to pull your hair, and have hers pulled in return, enjoying the control it gives both of you.

 She loves to decorate herself in pretty lingerie and gold, tying your hands behind your back as she sways her hips around you before settling your lap. She grinds herself on your lap, grinning sadistically as you whine due to the fact that you can’t touch her.

 She’s less intense with aftercare, mainly because she’s too tired herself to do much. Once you’re both wiped down, she’ll wrap herself around you and press a kiss to your head.

[meansevika]

okay so very long thinkpiece about meljay and jayce' treatment of mel / the writers treatment of mel and how i think that all things considered she hasnt really won as much as we think she did

the thing about this that makes me so mad or rather sad (both, actually) is that we learn in season 1 how mel was brought up, that she didn't get to be soft and kind, that her surroundings were hard and rough just like her mother was, that love isn't a thing she knows like that especially not in relation to vulnerability. now if you think about media in general there is a pattern we know. the black woman is always the strong woman, the independent woman, the woman who doesnt get to be vulnerable bc of the first two points. so here comes this man she's trying to use not just for her own endeavors but for the good of piltover, clearly having a different mindset than her mother, and he cracks her open just like that. he's vulnerable with her and he lets her be vulnerable with him and it allows this woman this kind of vulnerability that she was never allowed to feel. she feels and she loves and there is someone who holds her and looks out for her when things go bad. he is his first thought after the bombing and hes so loving and endearing unlike her mother who is concerned, of course, but straight back to business too. and oh what a lovely thing that was to watch as a black woman who to this day still doesn't get to see this as often as we really should

so mel gets to experience something she hasnt before and you can tell it means something to her because when she gets back in act 3 the first reaction to him is an excited, hopeful one.

this is the man she cares deeply for and it is also the man who shes comforted before many times. something she needs in those very confusing times too. something she might be looking out for. something she might hope to get herself. some comforting after what shes been through for months. someone to share what is going on with her and how confusing it is to find out all those lies and secrets about herself.

until she notices how changed he is, how different he looks, so instantly she is worried. of course! who wouldnt be! she very likely didnt even know he was missing since its the first time we see her back in the city so she must've assumed he has been here and well for the whole time being (does she even know how long its been?) but it isnt fine as we know. she puts herself second! immediately! (and rewatching that scene now it actually makes me mad how she does that. and how anyone can question any of her feelings for him when shes immediately all jayce. or how in general people think shes only interested in her own goals) she asks this man who has shown her to be vulnerable around him and it BEING FINE, what happened, shes opening herself up to him, again, over and over, and he not only tells her it doesnt matter (what happened to him) but TURNS HIS BACK ON HER. he is literally shutting her off. he is saying with his body she does not get to do that. and for someone who has grown up like this, with a mother cutting off any kind of displays of weakness, this must be a familiar feeling, something that goes off like a bell

but she still tries! she still tries! she sees something is wrong but she tries to get comfort anyway, because this is jayce, right, this is the man she cares for deeply, the man who has opened this door for her and the door she's let herself through, the man who has always had compassion for her. of course she tries again. why wouldn't she? so she starts that something has happened to her but he doesn't even let her tell him what happened (actually it makes me so mad seeing this again and how crazy hostile he is towards her, its like im looking at the mel hating part of arcanetwt and him repeating beat for beat what theyve been saying for years) he doesnt give her room to speak, just takes it for himself, prioritizing himself and his own feelings. and, yes, figuring out the bombing thing and wanting to talk about it is valid and i think in general this could've been a great angsty way to deal with this topic IF they would've had the opportunity to talk this out properly but what happens instead is that the man that makes mel feel safe starts INTERROGATING her like she is a criminal that should be held for trial FOR SAVING HIM something she doesnt even undestand herself. and suddenly she is in a whole different position and i think by now she knows that this kind of compassion and understanding and room for vulnerability isn't part of their conversation anymore

she loses her composure and that of course isnt a first because she has started to be less put together around him, allowing her more room to "sway" but this kind of destruction is a different one because she feels at trial, feels cornered, feels like she has to explain herself but - and thats what is important - isnt heard. and i think that is something she knows very well, something shes grown up with, trying to explain herself and not being heard.

all of that happens while he is, mind you, still holding onto that hammer. something she surely notices too. the man who's usually quick to let down his defences around her, who isnt councilor talis or mister talis but just jayce around her, is holding onto that hammer like shes a threat. so he tells her he thinks shes lying and she asks him why he would think she'd do that, obviously, because her understanding of their relationship and their trust is a different one than his or at least this jayce that has come back from the arcane, because clearly this kind of understanding comes from somewhere and it comes from the times they've spent together alone throughout season 1 and a little in the beginning of season 2.

he throws at her that shes been using him, something that surprises her, because clearly she doesnt know what has happened, but she tries to explain anyway, because she doesnt know what has happened at least not in full (as you can tell by her reaction to viktor appearing, sensing the hostile mood between both, but also the way she reacts when viktor mentions the noxians intentions), and you can see that these thoughts of his are a result of months in the arcane alone with them and imagining conversations over conversations (although for me its still hard to understand how he grew that hostile towards her this quickly as if she were responsible for everything that happened but those are thoughts for a different post). he crashes out during that conversation, his face is warped with hatred and that is. all. for. her. to. see. and then BOOM goes the hammer off. mid conversation. a conversation that should feel safe with a man she should feel safe with but none of that is there. there is no space for her. (and yes i know hes aiming at viktors puppet but that isnt somethng mel is aware in that moment)

it all leads up to a fight and eventually they walk together and he apologizes, although very distantly and without much explanation, and despite it all, despite having good reasons to shut off and not share what she's feeling, she does. she talks to him about what is on her mind and they have a short, bittersweet exchange but it's just nowhere to what they've established in the first season. as a shipper of course that is super frustrating, but as a mel fan it's just sad to see that the person she felt safe enough to seek comfort in is just so closed off. but not only that, it's obvious they're parting ways and it's very obvious this is coming from his side and i think that is also why she so wilingly accepts it. she doesn't fight much back throughout their whole fight earlier either, she tries to explain herself, but doesnt demand that room for herself even though in this relationship she should be able to take just as much room for herself and her feelings as he does, but she doesn't. she just lets it happen and i understand it bc you have this man you trust and probably love and his first reaction to you is hostile when hostile has never been a response to her. he made a complete u-turn and of course that's off putting, maybe even scary, of course it shuts her down, makes someone who's so good with words and fighting just try to cause as little damage as possible because that is how she's grown up, isn't it?

and that is why i am sad about this. she learned that love doesnt have to look like her mothers and that being vulnerable isnt a weakness and its his doing but here she is met by this kind of hostility she only knows from noxus and it hurts even more that it COMES FROM HIM and over something as SAVING HIS LIFE when its clearly was an act out of love and not investment bc if i'd would've been just that than she would've saved viktor as well? but it wasnt about that. it was her subconscious making a decision and it was something her mother would describe as an act of weakness (theres a reason she gets renni to attack him bc she sees how fond mel of him is maybe even because shes been fond of a man herself once and she knows what itll do) and i think the worst part about it is that she doesnt ever get to truly articulate this or anything else and now that jayce is gone (dead? in a stone? who knows?) she won't get to ever probably. she won't get to say what she thinks and explain herself truly and she won't have anyone to confide in, to be comforted by or comfort. elora is dead, kino wasn't real and the real one is actually dead too, jayce is well whatever he is, and her mother died in her arms. yes, mel is a mage and that is fucking awesome and i was so happy to see her go off and get so many spotlights in battle, but shes also so fucking tragic actually. because here she is with a fuck ton of weight on her shoulders, the noxian army looking up to her, the whole name, not knowing who her father is or what any of her powers mean, the whole black rose thing, everything unresolved between her and jayce, the death of the people she loves, and shes all alone with it. shes all alone with it and she gets no one. man im just fucking sad that this woman got a glimpse of what it could be like to be loved and have someone to "come home to" just for her to have literally no one left like why do you hate black women so much why cant they get a fucking good ending and why cant they be fucking loved even when things get hard

also im lowkey mad that jayce got to find comfort in her lap so many times and not once did she get that in return, not even a squeeze of her shoulder, but dont let me get started on that....

[dissapointu]

You are extremely cool, I am impressed by your works, really, your content is amazing. If you don mind (ignore that if you do) I would love to read about arcane characters who found out that their s/o are self harming. English is not my native language, so sorry if I wrote something wrong. And thank you again for your content, it’s healing me

Thank you so much for your kind words—they mean the world to me, truly. I’m so honored that my writing can bring you even a little bit of comfort. You’re so brave for sharing this request, and I want you to know I’m writing this with as much care and as I can. You’re never alone, and you deserve all the support, love, and healing in the world.

Jinx

Jinx has lived through her own struggles, so when she finds out, it hits her hard.

• At first, she’d be shocked, maybe even a little panicked. “Wait, wait… you’re serious? You’re really feeling this way?”

• But once it sinks in, her protective side takes over. She’d grab your hands, look you in the eyes, and say something like, “You don’t have to hurt yourself, okay? I’m here. Always. You can tell me anything.”

• Jinx might struggle to find the right words, but she’d pour her energy into reminding you how much you mean to her, distracting you with her chaotic ideas or working on projects together to keep your mind busy.

• “You’re stuck with me, got it? No matter what.”

Vi

Vi would feel a gut punch of worry and guilt when she finds out, blaming herself for not noticing sooner.

• She’d approach you carefully, her usual confidence softened by concern. “Hey, I know something’s going on. You can talk to me. I’m not going anywhere.”

• When you open up, she’d immediately pull you into a hug, holding you tightly like she could shield you from your pain. “I don’t care how bad it gets. You’re not alone in this, okay? I’m with you.”

• Vi would try to help in her practical, straightforward way—whether that’s sitting with you during hard times, helping you find support, or just being a safe space for you to vent.

• “You’re strong. And on the days you don’t feel strong, I’ll be strong enough for both of us.”

Sevika

Sevika might not know how to respond at first, but underneath her tough exterior, she’d be deeply shaken and determined to support you.

• She’d bring it up gently, her voice calm but serious. “I’ve noticed… some things. You wanna tell me what’s goin’ on?”

• Once you told her, she’d listen carefully, nodding as she processes what you’re saying. “Alright. Thanks for telling me. You don’t have to do this alone anymore. I’ve got you.”

• Sevika would be protective in her own quiet way, always keeping an eye on you without making you feel overwhelmed. She’d remind you of your strength, even when you couldn’t see it yourself.

• “You’re tougher than whatever’s weighing you down. And I’ll remind you of that every day if I have to.”

Silco

Silco would approach the situation with a calm intensity, his protective instincts kicking in immediately.

• He’d carefully bring it up when you seemed open to talking, his voice low but steady. “I’ve seen the marks. Let me help you.”

• When you open up, he’d listen without interruption, his expression serious but full of quiet care. “The weight you carry is yours, but you don’t have to carry it alone. You are far more than this pain.”

• Silco would offer practical help, ensuring you have resources or someone to talk to. He’d remind you of your worth with every gesture and word, showing you that he sees you as more than your struggles.

Vander

Vander would be heartbroken when he finds out, but he’d immediately focus on making you feel safe and supported.

• He’d sit you down somewhere quiet, his voice soft but firm. “Hey, I’ve noticed some things that worry me. Can we talk?”

• When you open up, he’d pull you into a warm, protective hug, whispering, “You don’t have to go through this alone. I’m here, no matter what.”

• Vander would be the type to check in regularly, always making sure you feel loved and valued. He’d remind you of all the reasons he admires you, even on days when you struggle to see them yourself.

Ekko

Ekko would be hit hard when he finds out, but he’d channel his feelings into being the best support system he could be.

• He’d approach you gently, finding the right moment to say, “Hey, I noticed some stuff, and I just wanna make sure you’re okay. You know you can tell me anything, right?”

• When you open up, he’d nod, taking it all in with quiet understanding. “Thanks for trusting me. I know it’s not easy.”

• Ekko would find little ways to lift you up—whether it’s spending time with you, leaving you encouraging notes, or reminding you of all the things he loves about you.

• “You’ve got me, okay? We’re in this together.”

Jayce

Jayce would be deeply concerned but determined to be there for you in every way possible.

• He’d sit you down gently and say, “I’ve noticed something… and I just want to make sure you’re alright. Can we talk about it?”

• When you open up, he’d listen carefully, his hands holding yours tightly. “You’re not alone in this. I’m here, and I’ll do whatever it takes to help you.”

• Jayce would be all about finding solutions, whether that’s helping you access resources, supporting you in your healing, or just being a steady presence in your life.

Viktor

Viktor would be quietly devastated when he finds out, but his empathy would shine through.

• He’d bring it up carefully, his voice soft but full of concern. “I’ve noticed some things, and… I just want to make sure you’re alright. Can you talk to me?”

• When you open up, he’d listen with his full attention, nodding as he processes everything. “Thank you for telling me. I know it’s not easy.”

• Viktor would find thoughtful ways to support you, whether it’s leaving you encouraging words, sharing quiet moments with you, or reminding you that he sees you as more than your pain.

Caitlyn

Caitlyn would approach the situation with grace and quiet strength.

• She’d gently sit you down and say, “I’ve noticed some things that worry me. You don’t have to talk about it if you’re not ready, but I’m here.”

• When you open up, she’d take your hand and say softly, “You’re so important to me, and I want to help in any way I can. You’re not alone.”

• Caitlyn would make sure you feel supported without overwhelming you, always reminding you of how much she admires and cares for you.

Mel Medarda

Mel would be deeply empathetic and immediately focused on supporting you in a way that feels meaningful.

• She’d approach you gently but directly, saying, “I’ve noticed something… and I want to help. Can we talk?”

• When you open up, she’d listen carefully, her expression soft but serious. “You are worth every bit of effort and care, and I’ll remind you of that as often as you need.”

• Mel would be the type to help you find resources or create a support system, always making sure you know you’re loved and valued.

Ambessa Medarda

Ambessa would approach the situation with quiet strength and determination.

• She’d bring it up directly but with care, saying, “You’ve been carrying this alone for too long. Let me help.”

• When you open up, she’d nod seriously and say, “You are stronger than this pain, and I’ll stand by you every step of the way.”

• Ambessa would be fiercely protective, always reminding you of your worth and showing you that you’re never alone in this battle.

Maddie Nolen

Maddie would be soft and empathetic, immediately focusing on making you feel safe.

• She’d sit with you quietly and say, “I noticed some things, and I just want to make sure you’re okay. Can we talk?”

• When you open up, she’d hold your hands tightly and say, “Thank you for telling me. I’m here, always.”

• Maddie would be the type to check in with you often, reminding you through little actions and words that you’re loved and never alone.

Lest

Lest would be heartbroken but gentle and supportive when she finds out.

• She’d approach you with quiet care, saying, “I noticed something, and I just want to make sure you’re okay. Can we talk?”

• When you open up, she’d listen attentively and say softly, “Thank you for trusting me. You don’t have to carry this alone anymore.”

• Lest would make sure you always felt loved and valued, reminding you that you mean so much to her.

[biancadoes1]

FAVE ANON HERE 😏

It’s been a minute since I’ve submitted but after the vitriol I have seen on Twitter this weekend, I felt the need to speak…

First things first, all of us are brought here with one definitive common thread - we are all fans of Bridgerton. If we were not, we would probably not find ourselves in this fandom at all.

With that being said, if you’re on this blog you are probably a fan of both Nicola AND Luke. More than likely, you want them to be together romantically or believe they already are. And if you don’t want any of that, I don’t know why you’re here reading this posts. This is how you become a troll.

You are allowed to be a fan of one and not the other. This is not a dictatorship and no one is holding a gun to your heads. But this is the point where it is VITAL for me to remind you how many times Nic and Luke have a real love for each other and at the core are best friends. WHAT THIS MEANS IS you cannot call yourself a fan of one of them while simultaneously spreading hate and contempt and overall nastiness about the other one all over social media.

Now I have approached the topic of the RUMORED insignificant others. Did you know that there is no general rule of fandom that states if you are a fan of a character performer that you must also become a fan of any performers they may date now or in the future? WHAT THIS MEANS IS THAT no one is required to become Jake’s #1 fan just because the rumor mill wants to say Nic is dating him. Hell no one has to become his #1 fan if Nic herself came out and said she was dating him. Again, there is no need to speak with malice about his looks or his talent all over the internet but you do not have to be a fan. Same goes for the dancer who shall not be named (I know it’s a trigger for many around here). And if they act in deplorable ways - such as the dancer has displayed in the past - you are allowed to speak out on it while using decorum.

This is ultimately bringing me back to why I wrote this today. Tell me why I’m seeing tweets talking about how Jake is a more successful and more talented actor than Luke. Tweets saying Luke can’t act and how amazing Jake is. These tweets are from Bridgerton “fans”. These tweets are from Nicola “fans”. Based on everything I’ve written up until now, the math ain’t mathing on the word “fan”.

I’m not spreading hate to Jake. Fact of the matter, he’s a 24 year old kid almost fresh out of drama school. He has had one season of a failed show on a streaming network riddled with failed shows. He now has a small part in a movie that probably is not even recognized yet out of this fandom and extreme movie fans - if we’re being honest. Luke is 31 and is on his 4th season of one of Netflix’s top shows. He was the male lead last season and the season broke records. He was on a Disney channel show when he was younger. He was on multiple stage shows on the West End. He’s had many other roles in smaller projects and just picked up a lead role in a new film. While it is considered an independent film, it is a LEAD role.

With that evidence laid out, how can anyone actually say with their full chest that Jake is the better and more successful actor? Oh right they can’t. What it comes down to is the fact that the “Jakola shipping” movement is not based on anything more than being an Anti-Luke Newton movement and it is GROSS. No matter what they tell you, there was no “relationship” being universally talked about prior to late summer. On August 25 those festival pictures were released and some very twisted narcissistic people in this fandom took them and ran with them. They created a narrative to help dictate what and who people in this fandom are allowed to discuss online. They’ve bullied creators off of TikTok and Twitter and gaslight the hell out of everyone when called on it. A 24 year old gay man (OMG I SAID IT) is being bullied on the internet and the blame is fully being put on “Lukolas” when the truth is that no one would be paying any attention to him if this narrative wasn’t perpetuated in the first place. (Side note: if you’re sending hate to Jake on behalf of being a Lukola, please stop. Please treat him like you treat every other one of Nic’s male friends. No one should be getting hate.)

The majority of the hate and toxicity in this fandom stems with the Jakolas Jackholes and those who blindly follow and defend a certain creator. I’m not going to say her name because I know how much she gets off on people talking about her (even when it’s bad) AHAH. This is the shit that everyone else is afraid to say out loud but it’s true. And for those of you in that discord reading this to report back, hiiii!

Oh and if anyone has a problem with this and wants to call me out for being on Anon, let me know and I’ll DM you because I’m not afraid. I’m grownup.

Xx

Finally seeing people with common sense!

My fave anon pulls through yet again.

Everyone say thank you fave anon.

[aquaticmercy]

Waste a Moment / Part 14

Summary : Bucky had always kept his distance, but seeing you get hurt on a mission changed everything. For the first time, he has a chance to start over with you.

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x avenger!reader (she/her) 

Warnings/tags : Mentions of food. Cursing. Memory loss. Head injury. Reader used to work in a museum.

Requested by :  @remoony

Word count : 2.2k

Note : Hey lovelies!! Sorry for those I missed in the tags last time! My notes has been weird latter and I accidentally deleted a bunch so hopefully now you’re all back here again! Please let me know if I miss anyone on the tags! Enjoy!

Series Masterlist

“Never Ask to be Forgiven”

Saturday.

You blinked, your eyes adjusting to the too-clean white ceiling, your ears trying to find comfort in the beeping that marked your heart rate. The pain was still there, a dull throb radiating from every bruise and cut. 

But that was all. 

You didn’t know what you expected. Maybe some part of you thought the last four years would come back, simply because waking up this time felt so eerily similar to the first. But no—there was nothing. All you had were the last few months. The hurt, the betrayal— the nights spent in Bucky’s arms, the pain that followed.

And then you noticed him.

Bucky sat slumped in the chair beside your bed, his face buried in his hands. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days. His hair was messy, his eyes red-rimmed and glassy. He’d been waiting for you to wake up.

The moment he noticed you were moving, his hand shot out, hesitating just inches before it reached you. 

“You’re awake,” he murmured, relief flooding into his voice. 

You stared straight ahead. You refused to give him your attention. You didn’t want to give him your time.

“I... I’m so sorry,” he broke the silence, his voice breaking as he struggled to keep his composure. He was uncomfortable, and she was filling in the silence. “I should have told you everything.”

You stayed quiet, your eyes fixed on the wall.

“I was wrong.” The words spilled out of him in a rush. “I thought I was protecting you, but all I did was hurt you. I was terrified of losing you. But that’s no excuse. I... I’m sorry. Please forgive me.”

All you heard was I this, I that. He was begging for your forgiveness, but it wasn’t something he could plead for. It was something you had to choose to give freely. On your own terms.

Slowly, familiar fury rose up in your chest, destroying any trace of empathy you had for him.

“Get out.” The words left your lips before you’d even realised you’d spoken. Your voice was barely above a whisper, yet it didn’t leave any room for debate.

Bucky’s face fell, the sadness in his eyes drowning him alive. “Please,” he tried, his voice trembling. “If you’ll just listen—”

“No.” Your voice steeled. “Out.”

You watched as he staggered to his feet, his hand slipping away from where it had been, hovering near yours. You remained still, refusing to give in to the quiet voice in your mind whispering that you still loved him— more than you had ever loved anyone before.

For a moment, it looked like he might try one last desperate plea. But then, he turned and walked toward the door.

He paused at the door frame, as if waiting for you to change your mind. But you didn’t look away. You held that cold stare until he was gone.

Sunday. 

The knock came quietly at first, as if the person on the other side wasn’t sure they wanted to disturb you. 

You didn’t answer. You had nothing left to give. No words left to say. 

The door creaked open.

Yelena moved with a hesitation you’d never seen in her before—like she wasn’t sure if she had the right to be there. 

You stayed still waiting for her to say something or leave. She did neither.

Instead, she lingered by the door, counting her breaths like she was trying to keep herself together. When she finally spoke, her voice came in the form of a whisper. “I’m not here to make excuses.”

You didn’t respond, resentment still alive in the dark corners of your mind. 

“You probably don’t want to hear this,” Yelena sighed, stepping closer, “but I’ve been sitting outside that door for hours, trying to… gather the courage to come in.”

You closed your eyes, wishing she would just go away. 

“I tried,” she admitted, her voice breaking. “I wanted to tell you so many times. But I was afraid. So I projected it on Bucky. And I’m not making excuses for him either but… I think I discouraged him.”

Yelena had to learn the hard way; you can’t force the truth out of someone. Force only breeds fear, and fear makes people say whatever they think will make the pain go away, truth be damned.

She understood that now— that there was something fundamentally wrong about using force in human relationships. But in her defence, it was all she had ever known. The Red Room, the kills she was forced to carry out—they’d taught her that control came through fear. Force became the only reliable tool in her arsenal. 

She realised now, that it was the same for Bucky.

Hydra had stripped away his humanity, piece by piece. Force had shaped him, twisted him into a weapon of someone else’s will. Force has dehumanised him. 

Of course he had resisted when met with any kind of force. Of course he had pushed back.

Yelena wasn’t going to defend him—not entirely. But she couldn’t deny that what he’d done was painfully… human. His reaction had been flawed, but it came from a place of desperate survival— and she understood that better than anyone.

She had failed to see Bucky as human. In doing so, they both had failed you.

You clenched your teeth, refusing to look at her, refusing to acknowledge the sting of her words.

When you finally spoke, your voice was cold. “You were complicit.”

You heard tension in the sharp inhale she took, in the faint tremble in her breath. “I know,” she said quietly. 

You turned your head slightly, just enough to catch the edge of her face in your peripheral vision. 

“I’m not expecting you to forgive me,” she said, taking another cautious step closer. “I just... I need you to know that I’m sorry.” Her voice broke, her hands clenching into fists at her sides. The sincerity in her voice was unbearable.

You exhaled, pressing your palms into the bed. “I don’t have the energy to fight you right now,” you muttered, the tiniest hint of acceptance forming on your face. You didn’t know if you could ever forgive either of them, but you were tired— tired of being bitter. Tired of feeling nothing but hatred.

A faint, bittersweet smile tugged at her lips. “I’ll take it.”

She pulled a chair over. After a while, she leaned forward, her elbows resting on her knees. “There’s something else I think you need to hear,” she said carefully. 

You didn’t respond, but you didn’t stop her either.

“It’s Bucky,” she said hesitantly. “He… he’s in pieces over you. He doesn’t sleep, he barely eats. And I know he fucked up— but…”

Your breath hitched.

“His heart is yours,” She continued softly, “It always has been. And… and I’ve just never ever seen you as happy as you were with him.”

The words hit you harder than you would ever admit. 

She only ever wanted you to be happy.

Your hands clenched into fists, your nails digging into your palms.

“I know you don’t want to see him,” Yelena added quickly. “But you should just… think about him. For your own sake.”

You didn’t answer. 

You couldn’t.

Monday. 

Today, Sam stepped inside, tablet by his side. He wore his expression as a mask of restraint, not betraying the guilt he felt underneath. He didn’t flinch, didn’t look away as he offered you quiet sympathy you weren’t ready to face yet.

Progress had been slow. You’d refused to see anyone but Yelena, but even when she was in the room, you barely talked to her. 

Maybe you just didn’t want to be isolated while you were healing— maybe you just needed a friend.

When Sam spoke, his voice was measured, like he was tiptoeing across a lake that had just frozen over

“I know you’re angry,” he said cautiously. “And you’ve got every right to be. But there’s… something you need to see.”

You wanted to tell him to leave, to stop pulling at threads you weren’t ready to unravel. Anger was easier— simpler. It didn’t leave room for doubt, didn’t force you to come face to face with how complicated everything had become. 

But his words lingered in your mind, demanding curiosity from you. 

So you gave an almost imperceptible nod you gave in response.

Sam crossed the room carefully, like he was approaching a wounded animal. He placed the tablet on your lap, waiting for you to take the reins.

“The first time— when you lost your memories, he sat with you for hours,” Sam said quietly. “That’s— It’s all here.”

When he stepped back, his hand retreated reluctantly. 

Without another word, Sam turned and left, his footsteps fading down the hall until the room was nothing but a bubble of suffocating silence.

You stared at the tablet on your lap.

You wanted to push it away, to leave it untouched, to keep its secrets buried forever. You didn’t want to do this—not again. Not let a piece of technology guide you through fragments of memories better left forgotten. But your hands had other plans. 

You gave in, pressing play. The screen came alive with a flicker, pixels blooming into existence from the void. 

And then, there he was.

Bucky, in the sterile, dim light of a hospital room, looked like he’d been hollowed out. His eyes were red and swollen, dark circles beneath them etched deep into his face. He was holding your hand, his thumb brushing absently across your skin. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice barely audible, “You deserve so much better than this. I just… I just didn’t know how to handle it. I pushed you away because… because I was afraid. But I care about you. I care about you so much.”

The raw pain in his voice, the vulnerability in his eyes, sent a tremor through your chest. You could see it, the regret laid bare, the desperation searing through him like the pain of an open wound.

Here, he wasn’t hiding. He wasn’t holding anything back. He was just a man, broken and afraid, holding onto your hand like it was a lifeline.

The footage cut briefly, and when it resumed, he was still there with the same clothes, the same tousled hair.

The time stamp showed that a day had passed. 

Here, his voice was softer, more fragile. His thumb was still tracing small circles over your hand. “I’ve been sitting here for hours, and I can’t help but think about how you light up every room you walk in,” he murmured, a bittersweet smile pulling at his lips. “You always found a way to pull me out, even if I didn’t show it. Even if I didn’t deserve it.”

The words felt like a surgical knife had methodically split your heart open, removing the hatred from your body piece by piece before stitching it up again.

You couldn't quite believe— that despite being cold to you then— he had known exactly what you meant to him. 

He’d known, even when he couldn’t bring himself to say it.

“I miss you so much,” he choked out, his voice collapsing. He clung to your hand as if it was the only real thing left in the world. “I can’t do this without you.”

Your throat tightened, and you felt tears burning in the back of your eyes. 

He’d spent so long hiding this, hiding everything he felt.

And it all came spilling out when you weren’t even awake to hear it.

Then he looked up, his eyes lost in a distant memory. “Do you remember the time we went on the Latveria mission together?” He let out a soft, shaky laugh. “I thought I was going to be a distraction. You laughed and said I could never be a distraction. You said I was your favourite partner. I should’ve known then that you cared about me… that I meant something to you. And I took you for granted.”

The remorse, the grief in his voice, was too much to bear. 

And then, he said it: a quiet confession of a broken man.

“I love you.”

The screen went dark, but you couldn’t move, couldn’t look away. 

Your heart twisted.

You knew now, deep down, that he was just a man—flawed, broken, fighting his own battles. Sometimes, he failed. This time, he failed you. 

But aren’t failures what makes us all so devastatingly human?

And yes, he failed. But he was also a man who loved you. The man who sat beside you for hours, holding your hand, pouring out every piece of himself in the hope that you’d feel him.

And love is something he could never fail at.

Tears slipped down your cheeks washing away the last shreds of your anger. You couldn’t forget the hurt he’d caused, couldn’t ignore the wounds he drove in your heart, but you could try to understand why it hurt so much. 

You couldn’t deny that you loved him, too—despite everything. And for the first time since all of this began, you felt that maybe, just maybe, you could find a way through the pain.

You could be whole again.

Tuesday.

Today, you were discharged. And today, you went searching for a friend—not Yelena. Things between you and her were still fragile, and you were unsure if you had even forgiven her completely.

Instead, you found yourself back at the museum, sitting in front of Bucky’s old war uniform. The glass case reflected your bruised face, a monument to your present and his past.

Alex sat beside you, eyes furrowed with concern 

"Tell me everything," she said.

And so you did.

-To be continued…

Taglist :

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[dreamscapeee222]

You're Short

Vi, Jinx, Caitlyn, Ekko, Jayce, Viktor, Mel

Masterlist

Vi:

She lives to tease you about your height.“Hey, short stuff! Need me to grab that for ya?” she’d say, already reaching for the top shelf.

Ruffles your hair like you’re a kid—infuriating, but she does it with such a cheeky grin you can’t stay mad.

Sometimes picks you up without warning and twirls you just to prove she can.

Jinx:

“What’s the weather like down there, shrimp?” followed by her breaking into cackles.

Constantly exaggerates the height difference, even if she’s only taller by a smidge.

Draws ridiculous doodles of you as a chibi, making herself look like a giant.

Calls you her “mini partner-in-crime,” but if anyone else teases you? She’s ready to throw hands.

Caitlyn:

The queen of subtle shade: “Oh, darling, you’re just so… compact. It’s adorable, really.”

Absolutely uses your height to her advantage in sparring practice—she’ll duck under your swings and smirk.

But she’s also the first to crouch down and look you in the eye when things get serious, speaking to you with gentle understanding.

Secretly finds your height endearing and won’t admit it.

Ekko:

“Dang, how’d you even see me from all the way down there?”

Loves leaning on you like a human armrest. Bonus points if it makes you huff and glare at him.

When he catches you struggling to reach something, he’ll dramatically swoop in with, “The hero saves the day again!”

But he’d never make you feel bad—he thinks your size just makes you you.

Jayce:

"Hey, do they even let people your size into Hextech labs?” Cue his loud, goofy laugh.

Jokes about needing to install a step stool for you at his workstation.

Still, he’ll go out of his way to lift you up—physically and emotionally—if you need it.

Will carry you around piggyback-style, saying it’s “for efficiency” but mostly just enjoys seeing you laugh.

Viktor:

Rarely teases, but when he does, it’s with surgical precision. “Your size must make navigating crowded streets quite efficient.”

Will subtly adjust things in his lab to make them more accessible for you without a word.

Finds it amusing when you get frustrated about his taller stature. “If it helps, I could crouch?”

If anyone else pokes fun, his sharp wit shuts them down in seconds.

Mel:

The epitome of class, she’d never outright mock you—but her smirk says it all.

“Your height only enhances your charm. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise, darling.”

Teasingly rests her elbow on your shoulder, pretending not to notice your glare.

Compliments you often, balancing out the playful jabs with genuine affection.

Requests may be sent through the ask box. Only SFW.