#thank you for liking my writing and telling me so!

[teaboot]

TOP 10 PERSONAL FAVE MOVIES TO WATCH WHEN YOU FEEL LIKE ASS

I don't like movies that stress me out because life is already stressful but I DO love catharsis comedy found family friendship fantasy and violence so here are my top 10 movies and series to have a good time watching

Numbered for convenience but not in any particular order

John Wick 1 and 2: An ordinary man grieving the loss of his wife gets dragged back into his past as a shadowy, invisible world of international killers for hire is slowly revealed to be living among us. A love note to set design, lighting, and choreography. My favourite part is fixating on the symbolism. DO NOT WATCH 3. 4 is okay. DO NOT WATCH 3. There is a dog death in 1 that will make you cry so skip that part if you have to. DO NOT WATCH 3.

The lord of the Rings, all 3, extended edition best watched if you're on the couch with the flu and expect to fall asleep OR if it's your day off and it's raining outside OR if you have like 5 people lounging around in pajamas

Six Underground: Essentially an hour and a half long car commercial music video with found family and a fresher take on acommon plot. Ryan Reynolds essentially writes and directs a Michael Bay movie where 6 independant criminals gather together to overthrow a violent foreign dictatorship. You show up for a dumb heist and walk out ready to build a guillotine. TW for violence, car crashes, chemical warfare, and genocide. A very cathartic ending. Does unfortunately do the whole "vague, impoverished middle-eastern country" thing but the citizens are actually show as human beings which is a nice change of pace and oh wow that's depressing isn't it

The Princess Diaries 1 and 2: A sort-of-a-loser teenage girl, played by a 2001 Annie Hathaway, learns that her late father was a king of a foreign nation and must become a confident and responsible leader for his people. There is a scene in the rain where you will experience emotions. Best watched with snacks. 2 features an enemies-to-lovers type deal with Chris Pine.

Ella Enchanted: A shrek-style semi-musical fantasy romance in which a young woman is cursed at birth to do everything anyone tells her to do. Features several Queen songs and dance numbers sung by Annie Hathaway and that guy who plays the sad dog guy in Hannibal.

Stardust: A huge loser travels from 1800s England (?) to a magical world in order to fetch a fallen star for the insufferable love of his life before she marries a massive douchebag. The huge loser? Charlie Cox. The star? A living person. Also a whole bunch of princes are ALSO looking for them as a race for the throne while discreetly killing each other off. And also a bunch of witches want to eat her so they can be young and sexy. 11/10. I used to watch this 10 minutes at a time on a YouTube channel that posted it in chunks filmed on a digital camera in their living room

The Last Holiday: Queen Latifah, playing someone played by Queen Latifah, has been working an underappreciated minimum wage job for years, living a safe and conservative life trying to lose weight and save money. Then she finds out she has months to live, and decides to finally quit her job and blow it all on one massive luxury holiday vacation complete with five-star dining, making friends and finding love and confidence along the way. It's definitely corny but it makes me so happy thank you Queen Latifah

Zathura: It's the plot to the original Jumanji but in space instead of the rainforest. But listen to me: There's a twist reveal at the end that you need to pretend isn't there. It is vitally important when you get to that part- and you will know what part when it happens- that you pretend it didn't. Otherwise, a fresh and enjoyable adventure for any age!

Redacted cause I haven't seen it in a long time and it may be worse than I remember, gotta rewatch

Bullet Train. You go in expecting a ham-fisted find-the-mcguffin style action comedy and are blindsided by excellent narrative symmetry and genuinely likeable characters. Fresh takes on old themes and creative action sequences. My little brother said "It's good", and he's a man who once sincerely argued that Lord of the Rings could have been better. It's fun and punchy violence with just enough smart stuff to not let your brain get bored

[prentisslvr]

congrats on 100 followers. i’ve been following since your first spencer fic, checkmate. i absolutely love your writing. could i ask for a spencer reid, with prompt 4 (he’s saying it) and then 8 (with reader saying it)

WHATS MINE IS YOURS

summary; you spill something on your shirt and you borrow spencer’s

genre: fluff, mutual pining, bestfriends to lovers.

prompt; “is that my shirt?” & “stop looking at me like that.”

authors note: i’m not sure if i like this, this was a little rushed but 🤷‍♀️

you had arrived at work in a haste, two cups of freshly made coffee in your hands, one for you, the other for spencer.

which was what you did every morning, but it’d just so happened that today, emily had her intern running around completing tasks, one of them being running right into you, causing you to spill piping hot coffee all over your white top.

you would’ve screamed had it not been for the fact the intern looked like she was going to burst into tears right then and there, so with a strained smile, and a pat on her shoulder you’d made your way back to your car looking around for something to wear.

the only thing being a spencers fresh laundry you’d picked up from the laundromat for him, he woke up pretty early in the morning, but he lived a walk away from the nearest laundromat.

and since you had a car, you grabbed them for him.

he appreciated this greatly, even if it had taken you weeks to convince him to allow you to do it, you lived like five minutes away from the laundromat, he live about fifteen minutes away in a car, probably thirty minutes to walk like he did.

you just liked making things easier, penelope had once said your love language was acts of service, whatever that meant.

you walked into the bullpen in one of his button up shirts, you sigh taking a seat at your desk, the shirt was white with stripes, it wasn’t your usual attire and it drew attention, from almost everyone.

especially the man who owned it, at first, he’d just thought you changed up your style for a moment, but when he really looked, he noticed what you were wearing.

his shirt.

and, god, he was having palpitations, you were in his shirt, and you looked really good.

it was no lie to the entire team, and well, pretty much the world, that whilst you and spencer were best friends, there was something more than that between the two of you.

“is that my shirt?”

your eyes shoot up from your paperwork and you guiltily nod. “i spilt coffee and im not exactly the most prepared person in the world, i had your laundry and—”

“don’t worry about it.” he smiled cutting your little rant off. “what’s mine is yours.”

you sigh thankfully. “thanks spence, you really are a lifesaver.”

as you continued work though, spencer would not stop sending you glances, if it were someone else, you may even have seen a hint of desire in his eyes.

but it was spencer, surely he wouldn’t.

“stop looking at me like that!” you exclaimed, it’d been ten minutes and spencer wouldn’t stop staring at you, granted you’d been looking too, but still.

spencer blinks. “like what?” his ears going red, he’d been caught, but he couldn’t help it, you just looked so good in his shirt, he’d never felt so attracted to you before now.

“nothing, nevermind.” you bite your lip looking down at your work with frown and spencer smiled, he’d tell you one day.

but for now the dr would settle for his stolen glances and making sure he kept a couple spare shirts in case you ever happen to ruin one of your own once again.

[alasse-earfalas]

I'm reblogging this again because I want to say thank you. Thank you for reminding me why I really love writing.

I've been stuck in a funk for, probably years now, where the primary driving force behind me writing anything was the audience. I loved the stories I was working on, but I was getting burnt out because I felt this weight of obligation to work on them "for my readers". I was left wondering where the joy of writing had fled to.

Enter the OP. This was a huge wake-up call that writing for readers is not fun at all (at least, not for me). It left me wondering why I cared so much about engagement when this was the attitude readers had about it. Why did I even love writing in the first place? Why was writing and telling stories so important to me?

And those last two questions set my muse free.

I looked back at my wips, really paid attention to them, and saw that there are stories that I want to tell. I remembered why I fell in love with these ideas, because I wanted to explore them, because I wanted--and still want--to see what happened next. I'm writing these stories because I love these stories. I think they're cool, I think they're neat, and I want to engage with them and see how they unfold and develop.

The joy of creating. I'd forgotten what it felt like. To just make something because it's fun. Because it tickles my curiosity. Because it makes me feel. Because I love it.

Shouldn't that be our driving force? Shouldn't creative endeavors be, you know, fun? If we spend twelve hours baking a cake, and nobody eats it, are we going to let that ruin the fun we had making the cake? And if it wasn't fun to make, then why are we bothering to make it at all?

We do this in our free time. We do this without being paid. If we do this expecting something in return, we're going to be disappointed. But the joy of creation can reward us all on its own, no likes or kudos or comments required.

Idk, the OP just combined with some other things I was hearing about goals and paying attention to what's important to us, and that gave me a really massive paradigm shift on this whole topic. Why is writing important to us? Why is creating important to us? This goes for readers too: why are these creative pieces important to you? Why are you spending your free time on them? If they brought you joy, why not share that joy with the author/artist/creator?

When our drive changes to joy rather than being bound to audience engagement, it allows us to create more freely. The worth of our project is no longer dependent on the whims of other people. We create because we find joy in it; and if others find joy in it too, all the better!

A writer friend told me something that broke my heart a little bit today; they're going to quit publishing their fanfic.

My instant thought was that they had been trolled or attacked or that something terrible had happened in their life because this person is so passionate about their writing. It wasn't any of that. Engagement with their works has been going down, as it has for many of us. Comments are like gold dust a lot of the time, and just looking through the historical comment counts on old fics on ao3 demonstrates this trend very clearly. It was not simply the comments dropping off which caused them to decide to stop posting, however.

My friend came across a discord server for their fandom (I should point out here that their fandom interest and mine diverged a couple of years ago, we stay in touch but don't currently read each other's posts because I'm not into their fandom and they would rather gouge their eyes out with a wooden spoon than read anything Star Wars) and specifically to share fic in that fandom. They joined, because we all love a good fic rec, only to discover that their latest multichapter fic, which has almost no comments and very few kudos, is being hotly discussed in this server as one of the best stories ever. Not one of these people has bothered to say this to them on the fic. When they asked, none of participants could see the point in telling the author of the fic they apparently loved so much that they love it.

This discovery has absolutely destroyed my friend's love of sharing fic. They share because they love seeing other people's enjoyment, and fic writers do that through comments and kudos/reblogs/likes because we don't get paid. There is no literary critic writing a blog post/article about how amazing the story is for us to copy and keep/frame. There is no money from royalties. All we have are the words of the people reading our works.

Those people on that server could have taken five minutes of the time they spent gushing about how amazing my friend's story was to other people and used it to tell the one person guaranteed to want to hear that praise how much they loved it. They could have taken a moment to express their opinion to the person who spent hours upon hours plotting, writing, editing, and posting those chapters. Instead, they deprived my friend of thing that keeps them sharing their writing, and in the process have killed their love of it. My friend now feels used and unmotivated.

I won't be sharing a link to their fic, they said I could share their experience but not their identity. I know they plan to post one final chapter. I know they intend to express their hurt at being excluded from the praise for the thing they created, and I know they intend to announce that as a consequence they will not be posting for a long while, if at all.

So please, I beg you, don't hide your love of a story from the writer. It's just about the only thing we have.

[fleurvi]

Sick!S/O | Arcane Women

request for arcane women with a sick gf

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characters: ambessa, caitlyn, grayson, mel, sevika, vi

cw: fem!reader

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Ambessa Medarda

Ambessa doesn't really take care of you when you're sick. She's a warrior, not a doctor. But we're delusional here, so I'll go with it.

You are not allowed to lift a finger. You need to recover properly so she'll have guards around you at all times so you can order them to get things for you. She visits you regularly to check up on your health and make sure you're being doted on. In a rare occurrence, she offers you a massage to relax you.

“How are you feeling?” Ambessa asks, heavy hands working against your shoulders and neck. You nod, thanking her for her service. “Maybe a bath would do you good.”

✩♬ ₊˚.✂️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Caitlyn Kiramman

Cait panics. She can't think rationally at all. You cough once, and she's writing a eulogy. When she's sure it's not super serious, she's diligent in her care. She makes sure you stay hydrated and get plenty of rest.

“What are you doing? You should be resting,” says Cait as she notices you getting out of bed.

“Babe, c'mon”

“No. Don't you ‘babe’ me. You should be taking care of yourself,” She fusses, ushering you back to your bed.

✩♬ ₊˚.✂️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Grayson

Grayson believes that if you mope around In bed, you'll just make it worse. She lets you rest when you need it, but she encourages you just to take some painkillers, hydrate adequately and go about your work.

“Here you go,” Grayson says, handing you medication and water. “We've got a busy day. If it gets too much, just let me know, and I'll send you home to rest,” She says, pulling you into a hug and pressing a kiss to your forehead.

✩♬ ₊˚.✂️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Mel Medarda

She just wants you to get better. Mel checks up on you but doesn't spend much time with you because she doesn't want to catch whatever you have. When she does visit you, she makes sure to ask if you're getting what you need and making sure you get it. She's mostly concerned about you resting, so she stays with you, talking softly with you until you fall asleep.

“Are you sure you're okay, my love?” She asks, running her hands over your back.

“Yeah, I think I need to sleep off. Thank you for coming to visit,” you say, closing your eyes.

“You're welcome, My Love”

✩♬ ₊˚.✂️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Sevika

Sevika loves you, but she's not going to baby you. She'll ask you if you're on your deathbed, and if the answer is no, then you can get off your ass and help her with whatever business she's been called on.

If you want Sevika to help you with anything, you've got to turn on the whining. She likes being useful, so if you really need it, she'll sit with you until you fall asleep, but she won't wait for you to wake up. You're tough, like her, so she leaves you to it until you wake up and are ready to get back to work.

✩♬ ₊˚.✂️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Vi

Vi thinks her immune system is “built different”, and she's not entirely wrong. She'll stay with you, hold you while you sleep, and make sure you eat as well as you can in Zaun. If you tell her you're not really hungry, she will lecture you until you give in and at least try to eat.

“C'mon, pretty girl,” Vi says, leaning in to kiss you. You feel gross and push her head away.

“You'll get sick”

“Babe. My immune system is made of steel. I've never gotten sick in my life. Now come here and give me a proper kiss,” she says, rolling her eyes.

“Fine. If you get sick, I'm not gonna baby you.”

“Yes, you will”, she laughs, and you know she's right.

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Thank you for reading!

This was a request! My main interests right now are arcane and attack on titan so please keep dropping in my inbox!

[karaeilishh]

can u pls do billie x reader messy makeout sesh with inappropriate grabbing and cumming from rough dry humping PLSSS thank u i adore ur works! 😊

here, baby 💞

hate me more b. eilish x fem!reader

you hated her so much. her long black hair that you wanted to touch, her ocean eyes, her soft, plump lips… you wonder what they would feel like on your skin? anyway, you could tell you hated billie eilish with every atom in your body. you also hated how weak she made you. 

you don’t even know why you hated her so much. she just irritated you with her existence, with her stupid smile and the dirty jokes she made about you. 

the worst part was that she was your best friend’s sister, and at every party you two had, she was there. even now. in your bedroom. 

“come on slut, tell me how much you want my cock.” billie runs her tongue down your back, making you shudder underneath her. her strap teased your pussy as she simply spread your folds with it. so much friction but you needed her inside. as deep as she could. 

“fuck you, eilish” you literally growled even though your face was pressed into the sheets right now. you wanted to piss her off so badly, to show her all the hate you’d been building up for years, you couldn’t let yourself give in so quickly even though your whole body was begging her to fuck you. “what?”

billie grabbed your hair, pulling your head back, it hurt, it hurt so fucking much, but she didn’t react to your hiss, tugging your hair even harder. she bit hard on your neck then made sure she leaved a mark on your skin. the only thing she cared about was the answer to her question. “i said…fuck you, eili-”

pain. it hurt so fucking bad when her cock was inside you. completely. every inch. your moan was unacceptably loud as she started slamming her hips into you, roughly pressing your head into the mattress. it was like a fucking porno, your hair tangled, half covering your face, the sheets underneath you wet with your tears. her thumb pressed against your tongue, completely coated in your saliva. “tell me how much you hate me, slut. say it with my cock buried inside you.”

you felt like you didn’t even need to feel her inside you to cum. she was talking so dirty that it was driving you crazy in every way. you wanted to tell her how much a bitch she was and how much you hated her, how much you wanted to punch her in the face, but you wanted her to keep fucking you. “don’t stop…”

she laughs when you say that. just mocking you. her hand is in your hair again, pulling painfully, mercilessly. her breath tickles your ear, making you forget about god. her wet tongue on the shell of your ear as she whispers sweetly. "louder"

"just shut up and...don't stop, billie, please!" your voice breaks as she hits the sweet spot inside you. your blood boils from the feeling of the contrast. the pleasure of her cock and the hellish pain of her hand in your hair. she tugged at your hair with every thrust until she pushed your face back into the mattress, only to drag her nails down your back, leaving red marks on your sensitive skin. you were sure she would write her name on it. "scream for me, babygirl. let everyone hear what a slut you are for the one you hate so much"

you were ready to cover your mouth with your hand, just not to give her what she wanted, but you just couldn't unclasp your fists, in which you were clenching the sheets. you could only scream, scream, scream her name. you let her take over your body. "damn, i’m gonna destroy this pussy"

"billie… i'm close..." you whine, cry, moan. anything, just so she would let you cum, cum for her, only for her. your body shook under her rough thrusts. your ass seemed to turn red from how hard she slapped her hips against you. "think about how much you hate me and cum"

billie wraps her hand around your neck, cutting off your breath as you cum all over her fucking strap, mumbling and screaming her name for the thousandth time in the last few minutes.

it's always hotter when you're so sure you hate her, isn't it?

[ha-rinrin]

Holding On

WARNING: This definitely counts as spoiler for act 3.

Summary: Jinx thinks she too far gone, but you think exactly the opposite.

Pairing: Jinx x fem!reader

Wordcount: 829

Authors note: I decided to cope with writing so I'm back guys :)

masterlist

The air was thick with tension, the faint hum of the explosives making everything feel heavier. Jinx stood in the center of the room, her body trembling with the weight of her thoughts. The bomb was in her hands—its cruel, ticking countdown echoing through her head, matching the frantic pace of her heartbeat.

She looked at the device, her eyes wild with something darker than madness. Her fingers were just inches away from pulling the trigger. The detonator. The end. She could feel it. The destruction. The chaos.

But there was something else too. Something so faint, you almost missed it—a desperation that even Jinx couldn't hide.

You didn’t know how you got here, only that you had to get to her before it was too late. Your heart pounded in your chest as you rushed into the room, your eyes locking onto her figure.

"Jinx!" you called, your voice strong, breaking through the sound of the countdown. She didn't look up. Not at first.

"Don't even think about it," you said, your voice sharper now, cutting through the tense silence that had surrounded her. You knew you were running out of time.

Her head snapped up, her eyes filled with something you couldn't read, a whirlwind of anger, pain, and confusion. The bomb was still in her hands, her fingers trembling, but she didn’t move.

"You think you can stop me?" she whispered, her voice hoarse, raw. "You think I care?"

You took a step closer, your hands raised in a gesture of caution, but your resolve was unwavering. "I care, Jinx. I care more than you know. But this… this isn't you."

Her lips curled into a bitter smile, but her eyes betrayed her. They were glassy, unfocused. "Who else am I supposed to be, huh?" The words were jagged, broken, just like her. "I’ve lost everyone. I don’t even know who I am anymore."

"You're Jinx," you said, your voice softening as you took another step forward. "You're the girl I… I can’t lose, not like this." You swallowed, your heart aching with every word you spoke. "Please, put the bomb down."

For a long moment, she just stood there, her face unreadable, as though trying to make sense of the chaos in her mind. Then she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper, but you heard it clearly.

"You’ve been the best girlfriend… the best person in my life. You know that, right?" Her hand trembled, but she didn't pull away. Her eyes didn’t meet yours as she spoke, but you could see the hint of something breaking in her gaze. "I’m sorry… but I don't think I can keep going like this. I don't know how much more of me you can take."

"Jinx, no…" you breathed, stepping closer, your heart pounding as the weight of her words hit you.

"You deserve someone who can be whole," she continued, her voice cracking, the words spilling out before she could stop them. "You deserve someone who can… stay. I don’t even know who I am anymore. But you—" She stopped, shaking her head, a faint laugh escaping her lips, bitter and broken. "You were everything. Thank you. Thank you for everything."

"Don’t you dare," you whispered, your voice trembling. "Don’t you dare say goodbye. Not like this."

Her hand tightened on the detonator again, her fingers almost convulsing, but she was silent, the look in her eyes telling you more than any words could.

You couldn’t let her go, not like this.

“Please, Jinx,” you whispered desperately, your voice barely audible. "I need you. I love you. I can’t lose you. You don’t have to do this. You’re worth so much more than all of this. We’ll figure it out together. Please."

She looked at you then, her lips trembling, her eyes glossy with unshed tears. The bomb in her hand felt like nothing compared to the weight of the emotion that filled the room. She slowly lowered the detonator, her hands shaking as she clutched it loosely, a faint tremble passing through her.

"I'm too far gone," she said, barely above a whisper, her voice breaking. "But maybe... maybe I still have something left. I can't leave you alone"

You reached for her then, slowly, gently. She didn't flinch as you took her hand in yours, her fingers cold but now gripping you back, even if just a little.

"I can't let you go," you said softly, your voice trembling but firm. "Please... don't leave me like this."

For the first time in what felt like forever, she let herself lean against you, her body trembling. The bomb was still in her hand, but she wasn’t holding onto it anymore.

"I don't deserve you," she whispered, her voice barely a breath.

And for once, there was no chaos. Just the fragile thread of connection between you, something both of you clung to as if it could mend the broken pieces. "You deserve everything," you murmured, your voice steady and sure. "And I’ll be here to remind you of that, every step of the way."

[deathbxnny]

Helloo!! Arcane is ending soon, so I was wondering if I could request the Arcane cast reacting to a reader who suspiciously seems to know everything that’s gonna happen in the plot? They always appear where the action is, and they warn about dangers before they happen, trying to ”subtly” change the outcomes of horrible events. Tragedies are a core element of the story, so I feel that the narrative would create another disaster if one event got prevented, but the thought of these characters being safe and happy after all they’ve been through would be so healing :3 It’s up to you which way you want to take it 🐁💖 I’m fine with both platonic and romantic, but I’d love to see Vi, Jinx and Caitlyn if that’s ok :)

I love love love your writing, reading your HC’s before bed has become an important part of my day and it’s always a joy to see your work pop up in the tags <3 Thank you for letting us read your creations 💖 I can’t wait to read the second part of your Caitlyn fic!!

The Timekeeper. | Vi, Caitlyn, Jinx x Gn!Reader

I absolutely LOVE this idea, Anon, and I appreciate your request so much!! Also, thank you for your kind words. It really means the world to me reading something so sweet!<33

Content: Angst, can be read as either platonic or romantic tbh, time traveling, fluff, bitter sweet, cursing, spoilers for season 2?, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns.

((Not proofread))

You were always a mysterious figure to them. One that appeared at the right time in the right place whenever they needed you the most.

You never revealed a thing about yourself. You never even told them your name. But one thing they did know was that you had always looked out for them, like a guardian angel in a way.

And on one fateful day, after another evaded tragedy, they finally caught up to you just before you could leave again.

》VI

"Who the hell are you?" She asked completely out of breath after having practically chased you down through the dense crowd of the undercity. She had seen you so many times before. So, so many times. And every time she did, you were somehow able to save her from certain death by subtly showing her the right way to survive.

It took her a while to piece together that you must've known the outcome of every situation she had ever been in beforehand. That was the only logical answer to the many questions around your existence she could come up with, but it wasn't enough to satiate her desperate curiosity. There were times she had chosen against your signs, and the consequences ended up being almost grave. So whoever you were, you must've had otherworldly knowledge about everything and everyone.

Because whilst she didn't know a thing about you, you certainly knew everything about her.

Raising your hooded head, you idly played with the pocket watch in your hand, piercing eyes meeting her own. "Does that matter?" You ask, and truthfully, it shouldn't. Who cared about your identity when she knew she could trust you? But that wasn't enough. "Yeah, it does to me. Now tell me who you are already. I... I've been seeing you everywhere for years now. You have always been there and I..." She trailed off, suddenly losing her confidence.

She had thought of this moment for years now, imagined exactly what she would say to you. And yet, ultimately, she found herself speechless in your presence that seemed to drown out everyone else around you two. "I see... but my apologies, we were not supposed to meet yet." You said calmly, seemingly undisturbed by her appearance. "Time and fate... they both are so tightly intertwined and yet also so far apart from each other... how odd that the timeline changed so suddenly again, no?" Your words made zero sense in her mind, but that just added to your mystery.

"What-" "-Are you happy with the way your life is going?" You ask, and that made the woman pause in thought. The answer was positive, of course, but only because you had a strong hand in it once she accepted your help. She thought of Powder back home, who was probably happily tinkering away with the young girl Isha they recently took in, and that made her finally nod. "Yes. All thanks to you." "Not at all. It was you who chose your fate. I only showed you the alternative paths."

You two stood there in silence for a moment before she shoved her hands into her pockets and looked over to a nearby bar she liked to frequent in-between missions. "Let's go grab a drink and talk. It's on me." Deciding to accept this new path the timelines had given you, you accept her invitation with a smile.

》JINX

"You're terrible at your job." "Am I? I like to pride myself in my good work ethic, actually." Jinx was idly swinging her gun back and forth on her index finger whilst she rested up in the ceiling above you, clearly having followed you around secretly. But she knew that you already knew that from the start.

Scoffing at your words, she jumped down and landed in front of your indifferent figure as she pointed the gun right at you. "Pah! You're a funny one... so what are you? A time traveler?" "Ah, I like the title Timekeeper more." You were aggravating but at the same time a familiar face she had grown to appreciate deeply. You were the reason she was doing well in life now, even if she ignored you for a very, very long time. She thought she knew better despite all the odds pointing against her, especially you. Ultimately, she learned her lesson when she finally just listened to you.

"Ugh... whatever. Can't ya at least tell me your name?" "No." "Man, you're such a pain in the butt!" "Likewise." Rolling her eyes, she lowered her gun and lazily leaned against a wall, arms crossed tightly as she observed the crowds passing by from outside the abandoned building you were in. An admittedly comfortable silence fell between you two, one that relaxed her shoulders and made her sigh in defeat after a while. Your presence was always so comforting.

"So, you let me catch up to you this time. Finally tired of the cat and mouse game we've been playing?" You lowered your head at her question, a sly smile on your face that made her narrow her eyes in interest. "Perhaps. Or maybe I just wanted to ask you how you're doing?" What an odd question, considering the context of your meet-up. And yet, it was somehow fitting coming from you specifically. Wasn't your whole mysterious mission revolving around her well-being anyway?

"Shouldn't you know the answer to that, oh so esteemed 'Timekeeper'?" You found no offense in the mockery of your title. Just pure amusement. "I'm afraid that mind reading was not in the initial job listing." Jinx took a moment to think about your question carefully then, deciding to indulge you despite her better judgment. Things were good now, after all. She, Isha, and Vi were together again as a family, including Vander, even if they had yet to find a way to turn him back properly. But everything was happy otherwise... because you made sure that the end to her story wouldn't be a painfully tragic one.

"... I'm fine. Everything's fine." She muttered, and your smile widened at that answer. "So... I'm not terrible at my job, after all?" Pressing a playful hand to her chin, Jinx acted as though she was in deep thought. "Hmmm... I guess I'll need more convincing than all of this to decide." "Of course... then how about we start with running away before the Enforcers show up to raid this place in approximately... 2 minutes?"

Jinx rolled her eyes again with a grin but agreed to follow you, very much glad to have learned her lesson at your side throughout the years.

》CAITLYN

She was ignorant towards your judgment from the start, especially as she was able to analyze very quickly that you weren't all you claimed you were. You were too smart, too fast, too aware of everything. It was clear that you already knew how her life story especially would come to an end. But that didn't mean that she'd always listen to you.

Caitlyn believed to know better, even going as far as to protest against your word, which she had learned to be fate itself. And sometimes she'd nearly get away with her life, and on others, you'd be the one to show up just in time to save her. It was embarrassing and at times even near humiliating, but you never judged her, just silently left every time she attempted to confront you.

And this time she had finally succeeded.

Now dressed in a formal uniform, she watched your still form stare out of a window in her estate, as though you weren't practically trespassing. But Caitlyn was used to that. "It's going to rain soon. I wonder if the construction workers will get done with the restoration on time today before the first drops fall." The navy haired woman came to stand next to you, ears finely tuned to your calming voice she had heard in her dreams and mind for so many years. It felt surreal to stand next to you at last.

"You already know the answer... but I think Mother will send out guards soon to retrieve them." Her mother, who had only narrowly escaped her death, if it wasn't for you. She had only gotten a little injured from falling debris, but that was all that happened. All of the councilors and people in the building had survived the Jinx attack. No grave injuries. All because you prevented it by throwing Jinx slightly off balance enough to make her shot not as precise.

"... Thank you." "For what?" The right answer would be absolutely everything, but she refrained, noting that you didn't seem keen on praise. You saw it as your job. As your duty to her for a reason unknown. "For saving my mother." That should do.

You nodded at her words in acknowledgment as your eyes spied Ambessa retreating with her troops in defeat. They were practicing chased away by the council since their help was unwelcome. Served them right for meddling with the business of other nations. You had exposed their ulterior motives in secret, and that's all it took for the tide to turn against them. "Just my duty." "I knew you'd say that... but I want to reward you for all you've done. If it wasn't for you... then I... I don't want to know what I would have become."

You glanced at her with an unreadable look in your eye, and that reconfirmed her suspicions regarding how deep she would have fallen otherwise. It's best not to think of it.

Humming to yourself in thought, you gave her a small smile. "Very well, if you insist... you can treat me to some fine tea and cookies." Caitlyn weakly mirrored your grin, relief filling her senses at you accepting her offer. She was worried you wouldn't. "Of course. Follow me." Linking your arms together carefully, you made your way through the dim halls.

A chuckle left your lips when it indeed began to rain.

[bohemianblasphemy]

Okay well now I need to know what’s written on the “paperwork” Spencer drops off at work. 😳 Tell me bestie, I need to know. I NEEEEEDDD!

Secrets in Ink

Based on a headcanon from this post ✨

(Also thank you cas for your help 🥺🖤)

There were perks of working at the BAU with your partner- being around each other for the working hours, spending breaks talking about your day; a downside however is having to keep your hands to yourself.

And man, was it difficult with Spencer Reid is your partner.

The day was dragging, and it seemed that the pile of loose papers and files to be sorted wasn’t getting any smaller.

A small frustrated groan left your mouth, rubbing your dry tired eyes as you tried to keep yourself awake.

Spencer observed you from his desk, seeing your weary demeanour and he frowned a little bit- trying to think of a way to make you feel better.

And of course, with that IQ of 187 and knowing you like the back of his hand, he pulled out a blank sheet of paper and acquired his pen.

He took his time to write you a note- carefully obscuring what he was composing to any wandering eyes that may be present, wanting to create something that was going to make you shiver and look forward to your… after work activities.

With a small, satisfied smile he signed off of the sweetly sensual letter- folding it neatly in half as he stood up to make his way over to you.

You were so deep in your paperwork, not noticing the tall figure walking toward you- not until he placed a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“Hey sweetie…” he whispered, observing you as you had broken out of your trance. You looked up at him, seeing his small smile and tousled curls, god he looked good- he always did.

“Hey Spencer… more paperwork for me?” You chuckled half heartedly, gesturing to the folder piece in his hand.

“Not work related… just a little something for you.” He smiled, placing the paper on the desk in front of you. Spencer’s hand gently reached your cheek, softly stroking it with his thumb.

“Just to make you feel better…”

That gentle gesture… fuck it did things to you.

“Thank you Spencer…” you leaned into his touch, gazing up at him with a small twinkle in your eye.

He gazed back at you, as though you the centre of the universe - the centre of his.

Spencer bent over slightly to whisper in your ear.

“Read it, but make sure no one else sees it. For your eyes only.” His gentle yet firm words were followed up with a sweet kiss on the cheek, seeing the blood rush to them as he pulled away and began to walk back to his desk.

Your curiosity overwhelmed you, unfolding the piece of paper to see what he had been written…

My sweet girl,

I don’t think you realise how hard it is to keep my hands to myself as I see you across the room, wanting to take you into one of the vacant offices and absolutely enrapture you.

The mere thought of bending you over on that empty desk, hearing those sweet sounds that you make as I take you from behind- makes it hard for me to control myself.

It should be a crime that I can’t touch you while we’re on cases; the temptation to let my fingers wander under your skirt and play with you whilst we fly in the jet - the added risk of getting caught whilst doing so making it all the more thrilling.

All I crave everyday is your lips, your touch, the taste of you between your thighs.

Once we are home tonight you are mine; to take care of, to love, to make you cum…

Yours,

Spencer

The fire that burned within you created a deeper red flush to surface on your skin as you finished reading it.

His words stirred desire through you, biting your lip as you thought of them and glanced back at him- cocking your eyebrow suggestively at him.

Spencer smirked as he saw your flustered expression , knowing that his words affected you greatly - but that changed when he noticed Garcia sneaking behind her, her eyes trying to focus on what’s there.

“Whatcha got there, sunshine?” Garcia grins, pulling you from your focus on Spencer. Your eyes widened, rapidly folding the sheet in half and shoving it into your bag on your desk.

“N-nothing- nothing at all Pen.” You replied, clearing your throat to try to seem inconspicuous.

“Mhm sure honey, I know that look, and Spencer’s not exactly making your case any better.” She teased- waving at Spencer across the way in which he returned with a sheepish expression.

After giving you a wink, she turned to walk back to her office- her heels clicking on the floor as you look down at your desk in a flustered manner.

You looked back up at him, not being able to keep a straight face as you started to giggle, which in return made Spencer smile in adoration for you.

Tonight couldn’t come any faster…

[dissapointu]

Could you please write arcane characters with crybaby S/O?? If you want, of course! Whatever, thank you, I love your works 💗💗

I’m so glad you enjoy my work! Arcane characters and their crybaby s/o,:

———————————————————————

Jinx

Jinx’s first instinct is to panic when she sees you crying. Her eyes widen, and her brain short circuits a bit as she scrambles to figure out what’s wrong.

“Oh no! Did I break something? Was it my bombs again?!” She pulls you into her arms and starts rattling off a series of wild suggestions to make you smile. “Maybe some candy? Or I could build you a new toy—no, wait, I’ll make a whole new everything!”

When she finally calms down enough to hold you and see the tears are simply from emotion, she softens, giving you a tight hug and whispering, “Don’t cry, okay? I can’t handle it.” She might still end up doing something completely ridiculous to cheer you up, but she loves you so much and hates seeing you sad.

Vi

Vi’s reaction to you crying is immediately protective. She’s quick to scoop you up in her strong arms, cradling you against her chest like you’re the most precious thing in the world.

“Hey, hey… you’re okay,” she murmurs softly, gently stroking your hair. “I’ve got you. Don’t worry.”

She’s not great with words when it comes to comforting, but her touch speaks volumes. She’ll just hold you close, letting you cry it out in her arms, her jaw tight and eyes soft as she assures you, “You’re the toughest person I know, don’t forget that.” She’d never let anything hurt you.

Sevika

Sevika is a lot tougher on the outside but crumbles when you’re upset. When she sees you crying, it’s like a switch flips, and all her usual hardness melts.

“Why are you crying?” she asks, her voice surprisingly soft, but her posture tense as if she’s trying to hold it together. She gently wipes away your tears with her thumb.

Sevika doesn’t quite know how to comfort in a traditional sense, so she might pull you into her lap, leaning against the wall as she lets you cry it out. “You’re tough, you don’t need to cry, alright?” But there’s a softness in her tone, a vulnerability she doesn’t often show to anyone but you.

Silco

Silco is stern, but when he sees you crying, a strange protectiveness takes over him. He’s never really been great at comforting anyone, but when it comes to you, he’s incredibly tender.

“Enough of this,” he says, voice low and commanding, yet his actions are the opposite. He gently pulls you into his arms, running a hand through your hair, his grip surprisingly delicate.

“You’re the last person I ever wanted to see in tears,” he mutters, his voice rough. He may not have the right words, but the way he holds you speaks volumes. “Don’t waste your tears. I’ll handle whatever is making you sad.” He’ll find a way to fix it—because you mean that much to him.

Vander

Vander’s heart aches whenever you cry. The moment you start, he’s immediately by your side, pulling you into his massive arms with an almost fatherly tenderness.

“There, there,” he murmurs, rocking you gently as he lets you cry it out. “You don’t have to hide your tears from me, sweetheart.”

His voice is soothing and steady, like a calm in the storm. He doesn’t ask questions right away; he just holds you, rubbing your back and whispering, “I’m here. You’re safe.”

Vander’s the type to offer warmth and security, his hands gentle on your back as he helps you through whatever’s troubling you.

Ekko

Ekko’s heart drops when he sees you upset, especially when it’s tears. He immediately drops everything, running over to wrap his arms around you in a tight hug.

“Hey, hey, what’s going on?” he asks, his voice full of concern. His hands are all over you—touching your arms, face, shoulders—as if making sure you’re real, that you’re okay.

“Come on, you know you can tell me anything, right?” he says, trying to reassure you. Ekko’s never good with seeing you cry, and he’ll do anything to stop it. He might even go a little overboard with distractions—making you laugh, telling you a silly story, or offering to make you something special—because the last thing he wants is for you to feel sad for long.

Jayce

Jayce is the type to immediately feel overwhelmed when you cry, unsure of what to do at first. He’s a man of action, and seeing you upset makes him want to fix everything.

“Sweetheart, please, tell me what’s wrong. I can help, I swear,” he pleads, his voice urgent yet gentle as he pulls you into his arms.

Jayce is the kind to try and solve whatever’s troubling you, whether it’s with words or some grand gesture. “Whatever it is, we’ll fix it together,” he promises, brushing your hair out of your face.

He might even work himself into a frenzy, trying to make everything perfect just so you’ll stop crying, but ultimately, his soft embrace and the way he looks at you with concern will make you feel safe again.

Viktor

Viktor is a mix of confusion and worry when he sees you in tears. He’s so used to dealing with problems with logic and technology that when it comes to comforting you, it’s like stepping into uncharted territory.

“Why are you crying?” he asks, his voice soft and a little uncertain. “This isn’t like you.”

Viktor doesn’t understand all of your emotions, but what he does understand is that you’re important to him. He’ll sit beside you, reaching out to hold your hand, carefully avoiding overwhelming you with words.

He’s more likely to offer you quiet, thoughtful gestures—making you tea, working on something together—anything to make you feel better.

Caitlyn

Caitlyn is a little flustered when she sees you cry, especially if it’s about something that’s beyond her control. She’s so used to solving problems in a structured way, but she wants to do everything to help you feel better.

“Darling, what happened?” she asks, her voice soft but filled with concern as she wipes your tears away.

She’s very gentle with you, rubbing your back or combing through your hair, and she’ll do anything to get you to stop crying. Caitlyn might get a little frustrated with herself if she can’t figure out the cause, but she’ll keep reassuring you with sweet words and actions: “You’re safe with me, I won’t let anything hurt you.”

Mel Medarda

Mel’s reaction to you crying is calm, yet deeply caring. She’s not overly sentimental, but she’s not cold either. She’s incredibly composed, and she’ll use her sharp intellect to try and get you to open up about what’s troubling you.

“Tell me, my dear,” she says softly, her voice full of warmth. “What’s weighing on your heart?”

Mel will sit down with you, her hands resting on yours as she listens carefully, offering advice only if she thinks it’s needed. She doesn’t want to push you, but she’ll always make sure you know you’re not alone, and that you have her support, no matter what.

Ambessa Medarda

Ambessa’s reactions are subtle, but her presence is commanding. She doesn’t like seeing you cry, and while she may not be the most emotionally open, she’ll show you affection in her own way.

“Don’t cry,” she says with quiet authority, pulling you into her arms. “Tears are for weakness.”

But her actions are softer than her words. She’ll stroke your back gently, offering you silence as she lets you cry it out, and then, once you calm down, she’ll make sure you’re taken care of, ready to shield you from whatever caused the pain.

Maddie Nolen

Maddie’s heart breaks the moment she sees your tears. She’s quick to offer comfort, wrapping you in a tight hug, kissing your forehead, and telling you everything will be okay.

“You’re everything to me,” she whispers, her voice low and soothing. “Please don’t cry.”

She might be a little overwhelmed by how much she cares for you, but she does everything she can to help you calm down. Maddie will talk with you for hours if she has to, just to make sure you know you’re not alone, and that she’s there for you.

Lest

Lest’s heart always skips a beat when she sees you upset. She’s very protective of you, and she’s quick to wrap you up in a soft embrace, not quite knowing what to do but instinctively wanting to shield you from anything causing you pain.

“Hey, it’s okay,” she says softly, her hands gentle as she holds you close. “Don’t cry, I’m here.”

She doesn’t rush you to stop crying, letting you take your time. She’s patient, and she’ll listen quietly, never pushing you for answers, just offering her warmth and comfort.

[thousandyearphantombunker]

Unlike Namaari King Magnifico deserved redemption. He might have been narcissistic and a bit of a control freak but he also felt like he was burnt out and underappreciated/misunderstood (imagine hearing "why can't you grant my wish please help me!' and being unable to explain yourself without breaking that person's heart- the frustration irritation and guilt from those reactions would kill me) and people want to help him for selfish reasons. Imagine meeting someone you think could lighten your load of work and become a friend or confidant only for them to tell you they're helping solely for selfish reasons. That's crushing. and he's not wrong that granting everyone's wish is a bad idea- why waste a wish on becoming a talented pianist if you could just practice on your own and get good? Why ask for a wish to become a doctor when you could just study and become one on your own? Are the people here that lazy? What moral questions would you have to face if someone asks for their child's disability to be cured or for them to have their lover return their affections or if they ask to be eternally happy or get rid of bad but needed realities like death? What ills could those wishes cause (this is giving me flashbacks to the 'board of governors' song from Jekyll and Hyde - very important good questions that got ignored by the protagonist but atleast Jekyll faced actual consequences for being a dumb ass and not answering them) And then there are wishes that are outright dangerous- ill intent unto others.

King Magnifico isn't evil he was under stupid amounts of pressure from his duties to his kingdom, his duties as a wizard who had to contend with these questions and all the work he had to do- on top of all that he has trauma specifically related to this stuff. He's got a thankless shitty job but still pushes through until he can't anymore. He was being selfless until the stupid plot picked up and he had his PTSD triggered and out of fear (which the audience sympathized with for obvious reasons) and after the whole book thing he was possessed and didn't have control over his actions. He deserved some consequences for picking up the book but nothing as harsh as the mirror imprisonment. He deserved to have people point out his fears were valid and that granting everyone's wish isn't a good idea and in some cases it's not even his responsibility. Sometimes you have to make your wish come true on your own and ask yourself the heavy questions- he deserved to be portrayed as sympathetic- He's like genie from Aladdin shackled down by his powers and that he was handling that work load alone with zero thanks and all the frustration of people depending on him more! He wasn't planning to do bad the whole movie! The worst thing he did was open an evil book when the pressure finally got to him

the movie should have let him be right in some aspects "okay maybe granting everyone's wish is bad, and maybe we should appreciate your work more but the only way for us to stop relying on you is if you let us grant our wishes on our own, even if you think it'll hurt" and having Asha, her friends and his wife take on more responsibilities. Maybe he has to share half of his magic with them and it weakens him and he's no longer the sole ruler and basically having him have to confront being a control freak. Having to trust others with his power and chill out. Him and Asha having to let others be disappointed angry and ungrateful and not let it bother them but also having to check themselves and their sense of superiority and Magnifico again would have to check if he was being too harsh etc.

King Magnifico wasn't evil. He's was right that granting everyone's wish is bad and dumb. he was in the right. The story should have shown that he was in the right without making him the good guy and had Asha be an actual character with an arc but instead of actually writing that story Disney decided to make him pure evil out of nowhere so you wouldn't think about how terrible the moral was (which would still earn my ire but I digress) but the thing is Magnifico became evil cause he was possessed- so while not totally innocent it instead emphasized the bigger problem with the movie

He genuinely is selfless and because of his trauma believes what he's doing is right- that can work for a villain but you have to be a real good writer to make it work- you have to make his actions more irrational and selfish and cruel inorder for people to recognize him as a villain (as a rule of thumb if your villain isn't doing something irrationally cruel and is fully in the right then you probably fucked up. If your writing a well intentioned extremist- you either have to make their methods insane or their motive- selfless but irrational or something- something has to be wrong with their mindset or rationale and something definitely has to be wrong with their actions) but clearly the writers can't pull that shit off. They made him completely rational and sympathetic on top of it all

And again he was possessed.

He did nothing wrong prior to that.

Not every villain has to be redeemed and have a son story attached. But for fucks sake if anyone deserves better it's him. The problem isn't that every villain is redeemed the problem is that the villains who get redeemed/get to be sympathetic anti heros don't deserve it and the baddies who do deserve better get treated like garbo

I just watched Wish (2023) and it made me realize something kind of sad about Disney’s treatment of villains.

So Disney has a long history of villainy from the OG Evil Queen who is willing to murder a girl just for being pretty to the misguided like Auto thinking he’s protecting humanity in Wall-E. They are mean, jealous, prideful, vain, and many relish in just being the worst of the worst. However every now and then we get a glimpse of more complexity. Zootopia’s Bellwether dealing with years of racism and mistreatment, Gantu trying to stop what he thinks is a monster in Lilo and Stitch, Up’s Muntz being a heroic explorer before paranoia consumed him, etc. The thing that makes me sad about these villains is that not one of them has ever had a chance at redemption or change in Disney’s eyes and nowhere is that sadder to me than their latest villain, King Magnifico.

(Spoilers below)

King Magnifico is the magical founder of a utopian society that accepts people of all races, religions, and backgrounds. Who created this wonderful place after what is heavily implied to be a violent invasion destroyed his homeland when he was but a child. This past trauma led him to study magic and become a powerful sorcerer so that nothing could hurt him or the people he cared about ever again. His magic is a protection that he extends to all who choose to live in the city. The city is vibrant with a colorful community full of artisans, musicians, and dancers. He takes no taxes from them, but does take their one true wish upon joining this society.

When given these wishes it is understood that he will ensure their safety and possibly grant them one day. Something important to note about the physical manifestations of the wishes is that they give off a warm and comforting aura as they represent some of the purest parts of a person’s soul. Magnifico has been surrounding himself with this magical comfort for a very very long time by himself and I don’t think it’s unfair to say he has become addicted to their presence. The wishes are giving him a magical comfort through the kind souls within them, a feeling he could’ve probably also gotten if he had spent more time with his people.

It doesn’t look like he ever really got the chance to commune with his people properly because somehow the society kicked off on his wish granting abilities. People had to give him their wishes if they wanted them granted and eventually the ones that he couldn’t grant in good conscience or out of fear started adding up so he began locking them away. Keeping them safe so no harm came to the people. The rare occasions that anyone else interacts with these wishes is during wish granting ceremonies that the people are borderline rabid for. With good reason, it is their souls they’re thirsting for after all even if they don’t really know it.

However, Magnifico clearly doesn’t see it that way. He sees it as he’s given these people a wonderful safe haven from the horrors of the outside world where they can be whoever they want to be, do what they want to do, make what they want to make, and still all they see in him is a tool to fastpass to something else they want even more than the peace he’s given them.

This is clearly shown early on, before any of his evil behavior starts to take root, in relation to his assistants. We get a expo dump after the first song telling us that Asha wants to become one of his assistant to increase the odds of her grandfather’s wish being granted as there is a correlation between past assistants and having wishes granted. Something important here is that there have clearly been many assistants, suggesting that it’s a revolving door position without really explaining why. Who would want to keep finding assistants over and over again, when really you should find someone who could do the job long term right? Well we get to find out the likely reason when Asha steps up for the role.

When Asha comes to interview for his assistant position he sees she is nervous, he tries to calm her down, and he even manages to relate to her through fond memories of her kindly father who he clearly knew. After seeing her true resolve to do good he decides to trust her with something few people in the entire kingdom get to see, the vault of wishes. To which Asha doesn’t even hesitate to ask, after politely being told not to prior, if he’ll grant her grandfather’s wish.

Magnifico is blatantly stricken by her request, sadly remarking that most people at least wait a few months before doing so a.k.a pretend to be interested in helping him rather than trying to use him to grant a wish. This is likely why the assistant job is a revolving door. Magnifico tries to find someone who he thinks will truly and selflessly fulfill the role only to discover time and again that people are just using it to get direct access to him to ask for a wish. Then he can’t trust their true intentions anymore and moves them along.

After Asha makes her request he does take the time to look at her grandfather’s wish but dismisses it as too dangerous because it is the vague desire to inspire the next generation. Clearly we as the audience know that her grandfather means to inspire them to do good, but we have to remember Magnifico has seen the worst of society. He has seen the darkest wishes and desires of mankind and survived them. He brushes Asha off telling her she’s too young to understand, which is honestly true. She’s lived her entire life cloistered in peace and comfort thanks to him and the rules he has made. She has never had to know war, strife, or hardship thanks to him, yet she doubts his decision without understanding the trauma that guides it. This is what I believe pushes Magnifico into his villain arc, something that I don’t think we’ve ever really witnessed in a Disney movie.

Usually a villain already is the villain by the time the film rolls around, even the twist villains. Lotso had already been deliberately sentencing other toys to torture. Prince Hans was already planning to murder his way to a throne. Evelyn was already plotting her revenge. Magnifico wasn’t though. He was the hero. He had saved his wife and a whole city’s worth of people from whatever drove them from the mainlands. He wasn’t physically abusing/mistreating people like Gaston even if he was vainly basking in their adoration.

When Asha pushes him on the wishes he pulls back from her, identifying her in his mind as a threat and treats her as one. He dismisses her and tells her that her family’s wishes will never be granted by him, but he will still keep them safe as he has been doing. Essentially meaning nothing will change for her from what it has been. You know a happy loving existence of complete acceptance and wholesome family life or as Asha interprets it, a fate worse than death.

His interaction with Asha triggers him, as she’s pushed at the flaws in his reasoning for holding onto the wishes. The flaws are true, but his mind is clouded by fear of a lack of control, likely stemming from the horrors he witnessed in his childhood when he had no control. He also likely has a bit of an addiction to the warm fuzzies that the wishes give on top of his fears. While he’s ruminating on that some massive wave of magic blows through the kingdom and messes with the thing he’s already stressed beyond reason about, the wishes.

Magnifico frantically searches for any answer, even considering a dangerous tome of forbidden magic that he knows is trouble before his wife manages to talk him down.

The fact that he could even be talked down rather than ignoring her outright shows that Magnifico does have good in him. He’s just reacting out of a genuine panic. His panic is only worsened by huge mob continuing to beg him for wishes in exchange for doing what should be the selfless act of defending their kingdom from what is essentially perceived as an attack. Not having any faith left in his people he turns back to the evil book to give him the key to stopping this perceived attack.

Just to be clear King Magnifico goes to the big bad evil book not to gain more power for funsies, but to try to find a way to stop a perceived threat. Everything he does from this point on, such as threatening his wife, can no longer be fairly tied to him, because as the movie repeatedly tells us he is under the EVIL book’s influence. His wife even looks through the same book to try and see if there is a way to break the sway she knows it has over him, but says she can’t because the EVIL book said no.

Yada yada yada and Magnifico is sealed inside a magic mirror and smugly told to rot in the dungeon by his previously loving wife.

Seriously?! What the heck?! This guy was the perfect candidate for rehabilitation. He wasn’t flawless, but he wasn’t a murderous psycho like most of the other Disney villains. Disney loves to preach kindness, acceptance, and good will with their heroes, but never does it allow the message of change.

I was shocked going back through the catalogue and slowly realizing none of their villains, regardless of how tragic their origins are, are ever truly allowed a second chance. The hero may offer it, but the baddy never is truly expected to change or reform. Which is honestly super messed up to me. People make mistakes. Some can be small/insignificant, but some are big and do hurt people sometimes. That doesn’t mean they can’t change for the better.

Now I’m not saying every villain is redeemable or good, it’s just a bit surprising that for all the messages of kindness and acceptance we haven’t really gotten forgiveness in 100 years. Seeing the “bad guy’s punishment” just deeply bothered me this time. Probably because so much of the bad that Magnifico does is clearly a trauma response and as a punishment for not acting appropriately to said response he gets sentenced to eternity is magical cell.

[starsjulia]

labour // leah williamson

a/n : i giggled a lot writing this.

warnings : none really, set in a hospital, reader being gobby

Leah was ready for anything. At least, that’s what she’d been telling herself for nine months. She’d read books, watched videos, and even gone to a birthing class where she’d accidentally fainted during the “miracle of life” video. But now, with you gripping her hand like you were trying to crush her metacarpals, she realized nothing could have prepared her for this.

“You’re doing amazing,” Leah said softly, her thumb brushing over the back of your hand.

“shut the fuck up you evil woman,” you growled, your head snapping toward her with the intensity of a woman possessed. “one more bloody ‘you’re doing amazing, and i’m going loose it”

Leah blinked. “Alright, cool, cool, cool. I’ll just… stop talking.”

“Good idea,” you hissed, then immediately let out a pained groan that shook the room.

The midwife, a chipper woman who apparently didn’t fear death, tried to help. “Let’s focus on breathing—”

“Don’t you start with the breathing! I AM BREATHING, AREN’T I?!”

Leah glanced at the midwife apologetically. “She’s normally lovely. I promise.”

“Don’t you dare apologize for me!” you barked. “You did this to me, you fucking cunt! You and your stupid, sexy smile!”

Leah couldn’t help but smirk. “You think my smile is sexy?”

“NOT THE TIME”

An hour later, you were in what the midwife called “active labor” and what you called “the seventh circle of hell.” Leah, to her credit, was trying to keep it together, but you weren’t making it easy.

“How about I go stand up front with the midwife?” she suggested, trying to be helpful. “You know, cheer you on from the sidelines—”

“ABSO-FUCKING-LUTELY NOT!” you yelled, grabbing her wrist then smacking her arm with surprising strength for someone in so much pain. “YOU ARE STAYING BACK HERE, WITH YOURE WIFE. I can feel my fanny ripping in half, ain’t no way in hell your seeing that”

Leah blinked, torn between amusement and terror. “Babe, that’s not—”

“NOT TAKING ANY BLOODY CHANCES!”

“Alright,” Leah muttered, holding her hands up. “I’ll just stay here then.”

“Good,” you snapped. Then, as another contraction hit, you added, “But you’re still not getting sex for a year. Minimum.”

Leah gasped in mock horror. “A YEAR?!”

“Maybe two! Depends on how long it takes me to forget THIS,” you shouted, gesturing wildly to your entire body before screaming in agony once again.

“Didn’t you say earlier that you’d forget everything once you saw the baby’s face?” Leah asked you.

You leveled her with a glare so sharp it could’ve sliced through steel. “FORGET WHAT I SAID EARLIER! one more word from you woman and i’m getting a divorce.”

By hour nine, the room had descended into chaos. You cussing out at everyone in sight, including the poor anesthesiologist who had tried to offer you an epidural.

“I don’t care if it’s late in the game!” you shouted. “Stick the bloody needle in my spine, you fucking COWARD!”

The anesthesiologist froze.

Leah quickly intervened. “She doesn’t mean that.”

“I MEAN EVERY WORD!”

“She’s in pain,” Leah added, patting his arm. “She called me a ‘stupid, gorgeous twat’ earlier. It’s just how she expresses love.”

The anesthesiologist looked unconvinced but did as you asked, and for the first time in hours, you seemed to relax.

“Thank God,” you muttered, leaning back against the pillows. Then, turning to Leah, you added, “Don’t get comfortable. I’m still mad at you.”

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the midwife smiled. “Alright, one more big push!”

“One more?” you snarled. “THAT’S WHAT YOU SAID THREE PUSHES AGO, JANET!”

“Her name is Emma,” Leah whispered.

“I DON’T CARE WHAT HER NAME IS!”

Leah bit her lip to keep from laughing.

“Alright,” the midwife—Emma—said patiently. “Let’s do this together. Big push!”

With a guttural scream that would’ve put banshees to shame, you gave one last push, and suddenly, the room was filled with the sound of a baby’s cry.

“She’s here!” Leah exclaimed, tears streaming down her face as the midwife placed the tiny, squirming bundle on your chest.

You stared down at your daughter, your entire world shifting in an instant. “Oh my God,” you whispered, tears pricking your eyes. “She’s perfect.”

“She is,” Leah agreed, leaning down to kiss your forehead.

“She’s also loud,” you added. “Definitely gets that from you.”

“Oi!” Leah protested, but her grin gave her away.

Later, as your daughter nursed contentedly, you looked at her with a soft smile. “You know,” you said, stroking her tiny hand, “your muma is going to be so jealous. You’ve stolen her favorite spot.”

Leah gasped, clutching her chest dramatically. “Innocent ears! Did you just tell our newborn daughter about—”

“Yes,” you interrupted. “And she’s got a right to know.”

Leah shook her head, feigning devastation. “I can’t believe you’d corrupt her like this. On her first day. What kind of example are you setting?”

From the corner of the room, Leah’s mum, who had been quietly observing the whole thing, finally spoke up.

“Right, well,” she said, smirking, “this has been the most entertaining day of my life.”

You groaned, burying your face in your free hand. “Oh, God. You’re still here.”

“Still here,” her mum confirmed, grinning. “And I can’t wait to tell this story at Christmas.”

Leah burst into laughter while you muttered something about filing for divorce.

That night, as you lay in bed with your daughter snuggled between you and Leah, you sighed.

“I guess I forgive you,” you murmured.

“For what?” Leah asked, her voice soft.

“For putting me through hell today.”

Leah grinned, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Does this mean the sex ban is off?”

You shot her a look. “Don’t push your luck, Williamson.”

[littlelamy]

Reader request with Rafe. Maybe she breaks down sobbing in the middle of sex and he has no idea why, thinking he hurt her. Her reasons aren’t bad. As someone that has only been with one person personally, and he was such a selfish uncaring lover, I legit think I would start sobbing in bed if someone was loving and caring towards me and treating me like the most precious thing. Love your writing <3

a/n: thank you so much for requesting...hope you like it!!⭐️

the room was drenched in golden light, the low hum of the bedside lamp the only sound as rafe’s hands roamed your body. his palms were warm against your skin, calloused but soft in their touch, tracing a path down your sides like he was discovering you for the first time. his lips followed, pressing kisses that started at your neck and trailed lower, his breath hot and deliberate.

“you okay?” he murmured, the deep rasp of his voice sending a shiver down your spine. his fingers hooked under the hem of your shirt, brushing the bare skin of your stomach as he paused to look at you.

your lips parted, and though you nodded, the tightness in your throat betrayed you. “yeah,” you whispered. “i’m okay.”

rafe studied your face, his brow furrowing slightly before he leaned down to kiss you again. it wasn’t rushed, wasn’t desperate, but slow, sensual, the kind of kiss that set your skin alight. his tongue slid against yours, coaxing a soft moan from your lips as his hand moved lower, slipping between your legs.

“god, you’re so wet for me,” he murmured, his voice thick with awe and desire. his fingers stroked you gently, building heat that spread through your entire body, but there was nothing hurried about the way he moved. "my baby, so perfect." he almost purred, everything about him was deliberate, like he wanted to savor every second of this—every second of you.

you arched into his touch, your hands clutching at his broad shoulders as he pressed his body closer to yours. his hips rocked against you, his movements careful but firm, and the pressure sent sparks of pleasure through your veins.

but that was the moment it all became too much.

your chest tightened, your breath hitching as the weight of everything crashed down at once. the tenderness, the patience, the care—it was everything you’d never known, everything you thought you didn’t deserve. and suddenly, the tears came.

a sob tore from your throat, raw and unbidden, cutting through the heated silence like a knife.

rafe froze instantly, his body going rigid above you as his eyes snapped to your face. “y/n?” his voice was sharp with concern, his hands pulling back like he was afraid he’d hurt you. “what—did i—did i hurt you?”

you shook your head, tears spilling freely now as you pressed a trembling hand to your face. “no,” you managed, your voice cracking. “no, you didn’t hurt me. i’m sorry, i—”

“hey, hey,” he interrupted, his hands hovering near your arms but not quite touching. his voice softened, though there was still a note of panic in it. “don’t apologize. just tell me what’s wrong. did i do something? did i push too far?”

you shook your head again, harder this time, your tears soaking into the pillow beneath you. “no, rafe. it’s not you. it’s… it’s me.”

his brow furrowed, confusion flickering across his face as he searched your eyes for answers. “what do you mean? you’re crying, baby. i don’t know what to do.”

the raw vulnerability in his voice broke something inside you. you forced yourself to take a shaky breath, your hands trembling as you reached up to touch his face. “i’m crying because you’re too good to me,” you admitted, the words tumbling out in a rush.

rafe blinked, clearly caught off guard. “what?”

“you’re too good to me,” you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper. “i’ve only ever been with one person before, and he… he didn’t care about me. not really. it was always about him—what he wanted, what he could take. i got used to that, and now… now you’re here, and you’re so kind and patient, and i don’t know how to handle it.”

his expression shifted then, his confusion melting into something softer, though there was an edge of anger in his jaw—anger directed not at you but at the person who had made you feel this way.

“y/n,” he said quietly, his voice steady. “that guy? he didn’t deserve you. not for a second. and i don’t care how long it takes, i’ll spend every moment proving to you that you’re worth everything. do you hear me?”

tears spilled down your cheeks again, but this time they weren’t born of pain. his words wrapped around you like a balm, soothing wounds you hadn’t realized were still bleeding.

“i don’t want to scare you off,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

“scare me off?” rafe repeated, his tone incredulous. he cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away your tears. “y/n, you couldn’t scare me off if you tried. i just… i want you to feel safe with me. always.”

“i do,” you said quickly, your voice breaking with urgency. “i do feel safe. that’s why i’m crying, rafe. because i’ve never felt this before. no one’s ever… treated me like this before.”

his lips pressed to your forehead, lingering there as he exhaled deeply. “then we’ll go slow,” he murmured against your skin. “as slow as you need. or we can stop altogether. whatever you want, baby.”

“no,” you said firmly, your hands curling around his wrists to keep him close. “i don’t want to stop. i just… needed to tell you. needed you to know why i’m like this.”

his eyes searched yours for a long moment before he nodded, his lips curving into the softest smile. “okay,” he said simply. “but promise me, if you ever need to stop, you’ll tell me. no matter what.”

“i promise,” you whispered, your voice steadier now.

he kissed you again, but this time it was different. there was still care in the way his lips moved against yours, but now there was something deeper, something hungrier. his hands gripped your waist, pulling you flush against him as his hips rolled forward, the friction sending a gasp spilling from your lips.

“you feel so fucking good,” he groaned, his breath warm against your neck as he pressed wet kisses to your skin. his body moved against yours in slow, deliberate thrusts, his hands roaming your body like he couldn’t get enough.

and this time, you let yourself feel it. you let yourself drown in the way he touched you, the way he held you like you were the most precious thing in the world. because for the first time in a long time, you believed that maybe—just maybe—you were.

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

[archangeldyke-all]

just finished act 3 and I need more Sevika to cope with my emotions about it :’)

can we get some mundane ways Sevika is obsessed with us? like I gotta believe the tiniest things the reader does make her sit there and gaze and think about how in love she is (as well as probably make her horny). I firmly believe this woman would watch you brush your teeth and be enamored and turned on at the same time 😮‍💨

(your writings been keeping me sane all throughout arcane btw 🫶)

hehehehe yes

men and minors dni

watching you struggle to clasp your bra in the early morning is one of the strangest things that sevika adores watching you do.

it's by no means attractive. you're still half asleep, contorting your body as you try to get the clasps to align properly and make sure there are no twists in the straps-- but sevika's fucking enamored. she loves the frustrated, sleepy look on your face, she loves the way that you never manage to line the clasps up properly.

she'll usually reach out to help you in your struggle, kissing your shoulders as you sigh and thank her.

"'y need the kind that clasp in the front, love." she chuckles.

"then you wouldn't get your little show every morning." you point out. sevika grins.

"good point."

sevika loves it when you make a mess while eating food.

she loves looking up across the table and finding you grinning, your cheeks puffed out with food, a bit of sauce on your chin or shirt.

she loves pulling you in with an exasperated little chuckle, licking her thumb and cleaning up your mess. "you missed your mouth." she teases. you smile up at her as her thumb's rubbing turns into gentle sweeps across your cheekbone. "you're a mess." she sighs dreamily.

you reach out and dip your finger in the sauce of your dinner, swiping it over your lips. "whoops!" you giggle. sevika grins. "better lick me clean, sev."

she leans in and does just that.

in the mornings, you'll apply sevika's lipstick for her, holding her chin gently between your fingers while you swipe her favorite color over her plush lips.

sevika's favorite part of this whole process isn't the gentle way you hold her, or the soft puffs of your breath on her face. it isn't even the smile and smooch you place on her lips when you're finished to blot them.

her favorite part of this little ritual is the subconscious way you pucker your lips as you trace hers, like you're copying her facial expression.

she thinks it's your way of non-verbally telling her to pucker her own lips, but you never put your lips back once she does, holding your kissy face the entire time you paint her lips, before smiling at your work and actually kissing her.

it drives her fucking crazy.

one night, sevika comes home to find you cooking dinner wearing a big pair of sunglasses. she frowns at you. "'re you hungover or something?" she asks.

"huh?" you ask from where you're stirring the veggies. sevika gently taps the glasses and you giggle, pulling them off your face. "oh, shit! i forgot i was wearing these, i can see so much better now!" you laugh.

sevika grins. "why were you wearing sunglasses inside?" she asks.

"i was chopping onions, i didn't wanna cry." you say with a shrug.

she doesn't know how or why, but your answer makes sevika impossibly horny for you. "oh, fuck, i love you so bad." she groans, pulling you in for a long, sloppy kiss.

you gasp against her lips, only to melt against her, letting her pin you to the counter top and kiss the breath out of you.

by the time sevika pulls away, your stirfry's burnt.

you don't mind, though.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

@lavandasz @strawberrykidneystone @sevikasfan @fict1onallyobsessed

[nanaslutt]

Hi Nana 🩷

You can skip this message if you would like, no pressure. Just wanted to tell you that you basically resurrected me. I had been struggling with depression for over 5 years and late 2024 was the peak of it. In early Sept I found your smaus absolutely by an accident and I was drawn into jujutsu kaisen thanks to you (I watched a few episodes before but never liked it for some reason)

I always try to support you because I am full of gratitude for you, you may not know it how much comfort your works give to others so I just want to let you know that somehow your blog had a major positive impact on me. The way you write jjk men that they are always so respectful of the reader and the vibe you create for the relationship between the reader x character is something I needed in my life. Thank you so much for this, you have my eternal gratitude and attention

Also, I am not posting this anonymously since I often comment under your suggestive smaus, so you know I am not a kid (I’m 22) :)

Thank you again, you may not realise the good impact you’ve done 👍🏻🩷

this is genuinely one of the sweetest messages i’ve ever received :( i am so so glad i was able to help you even a little during a time when you were struggling with your mental health. it makes me so happy to hear you’re doing better now, tysm for taking the time to send this is ml <3

people like you—even if i don’t help people to the same extent, are the reason why i love to post so much!! even just seeing people react positively to the content i release makes me so happy ^3^

[santaasi]

story of my life

pairing: jj maybank x fem!reader

summary: what are you willing to do for the love of your life?

warnings: !major spoiler for obx4 final!, angst, establish relationship, nearly death experience, no use of y/n, english isn't my first language

word count: 2.8k

a/n: requested by this ask. i still haven't found the strength to watch s4, but i like to write about it. you know, after all this emotionally difficult month, all your requests help me not to go crazy. so thank you very much.

ᯓ★ now playing...

one direction - story of my life

YOU HAD ALWAYS LOVED LIFE. Even through all the chaos and heartbreak, you clung to it with fierce devotion, treasuring every moment. Your greatest dream wasn’t wealth or fame — it was to live boldly, to see the world in vivid color, to grow old with stories of wild adventures alongside the Pogues, the family you had found and held so dear. They were your anchor, your everything.

But life, for all its beauty, has taught you a bitter truth: it isn’t always fair. More often than not, it is harsh and unrelenting, a storm that leaves you scrambling for shelter. You’d learned to accept that, to carry on, to find joy even in the darkest corners. And you did, always.

What you never prepared for — what you could never imagine — was just how cruel it could truly be.

You weren’t ready for the knife. You weren’t ready for the split-second decision, the instinct that drove you to shield him, to put yourself in harm’s way without hesitation. All you cared about at that moment was that JJ would be safe. And he was.

But you?

No amount of planning or foresight could have prepared you for this — the searing pain, the hot Moroccan sand beneath you, and the endless blue sky above, eerily reminiscent of home. You’d spent your life navigating every twist and turn, surviving every trial fate threw at you, but now your strength ebbed away with every heartbeat.

Life really was cruel.

You and the Pogues had always known that, enduring its relentless trials together, earning your scars the hard way. But this? This was different. This was a cruelty you’d never known — a cruelty you couldn’t accept.

It wasn’t the dying that broke you, even though your dream of growing old with stories to tell burned brightly in your chest until the very end. Death itself wasn’t what hurt most. You had danced with it so many times before, always escaping, always one step ahead.

No, what shattered you was the sight of JJ Maybank, the boy who had stolen your heart and become your everything, cradling you as life slipped through your fingers. His tears fell like rain, his voice hoarse from screaming for help that wouldn’t come. His hands trembled, desperately trying to hold you together, trying to stop the bleeding, trying to defy the inevitable.

That was the real cruelty. Watching his world break as yours faded.

But now, as you stared up at the endless blue sky, its hue so much like his eyes and the tranquil ocean, it didn’t seem so cruel after all. Dying to save the person you loved most — it wasn’t a punishment. It was a gift, wasn’t it? To offer your life for the one who taught you how to love — that was a blessing.

A soft smile touched your lips as you reached out a trembling hand to his face, your fingers brushing his cheek, catching the tears that fell like rivers. His pain was unbearable to witness, but the warmth of his skin under your touch grounded you, even as the world slipped further away.

“Jay,” you whispered, your voice thin and fractured, each word scraped from a well of pain you refused to show him. You had always been strong — for the Pogues, for him. You couldn’t stop now. “It’s okay. I’m okay.”

He froze, his frantic movements stilling for a moment as your words cut through his panic. You swallowed hard, pushing down the agony clawing at your chest, determined to ease the fear in his eyes, if only a little.

“The luck had to run out eventually,” you continued, a faint chuckle escaping despite the weight crushing your lungs. “And, honestly? Dying in the arms of my first and only love… That’s pretty romantic, don’t you think? I’m like the main character in one of those cheesy teen dramas you hate so much.”

The effort of your laugh sent a sharp jolt of pain through your body, pulling a wet cough from your lips. The metallic tang of blood filled your mouth, and your chest burned with the force of it. You tried to hide it, but JJ saw — of course, he saw.

His face crumpled, and the desperation in his voice pierced through you like the knife had. “No. No. No. You’re not dying. I won’t let you die.”

His hands trembled as he held you, his grip firm yet unbearably gentle, as if afraid you’d slip away entirely if he let go. He rocked you slightly, his movements uneven and frantic, his voice cracking as he screamed for help, calling out for the others, begging the universe to give him just one more miracle.

“You can’t leave me,” he choked out, his words tumbling over one another in a broken, frantic rush. “You’re not getting rid of me that easy, you hear me? I’ll pester you until you’re old and gray. Forever. That’s the deal, remember?”

His words wavered, drenched in panic and pain, as if sheer determination alone could defy the inevitable. You wanted to tell him it was okay, that he’d be okay, that you didn’t regret a single thing. But the truth was, seeing him like this — the boy who was your whole world shattered and breaking — hurt more than the knife ever could.

 A soft, broken laugh escaped your lips, each tremor in your chest sending ripples of pain through your body. Breathing felt like trying to hold onto smoke — fleeting and agonizing. Why did it have to hurt so much? You drew a shallow, shaky breath, your hand brushing over JJ’s tear-streaked cheek. He clung to you like you were the only solid thing left in his crumbling world, his eyes squeezed shut, his face twisted with anguish.  

Even now, even like this, he was beautiful. It wasn’t fair.  

You’d thought it a hundred times before, over the years spent by his side. No matter the situation, no matter how disheveled or broken, JJ Maybank always carried a beauty that was effortless and infuriating. He was a contradiction — a masterpiece painted in chaos — and you could never look at him without being reminded of how deeply, unfairly he had your heart.  

You had seen him in every state imaginable: bloodied and bruised, grinning through the pain, laughing so hard he couldn’t breathe, or asleep under the stars with his face softened by peace he rarely found. Even in his worst moments, when life dragged him down to its cruelest depths, he was breathtaking. You used to joke that Aphrodite herself must have crafted him, a cruel trick of divine perfection meant to mock you.  

But it wasn’t a joke now, lying here in his arms. Because you knew you’d never see the life you’d imagined with him.  

You’d thought about it more times than you could admit: the way his children would carry his same irresistible charm, the way his hair might gray but his smile would never lose its boyish mischief, the way you’d both grow old together, teasing and bickering like you always did. But none of that would happen now.  

You wouldn’t be there to see it.  

You wouldn’t see the Pogues again, wouldn’t see John B and Sarah raising a family, wouldn’t wake up in JJ’s arms to greet the sunrise and talk about life like it was endless. All those dreams, those plans — they were dissolving, fading into the hot Moroccan sand beneath you, slipping from your grasp like water through trembling fingers.  

But at least you’d die saving him.  

JJ’s voice cracked, pulling you from your spiraling thoughts. “We should have stayed... I should have listened to you... I...” He repeated the words in a frantic, looping mantra, his tone raw with regret, his breath hitching as though saying it enough times could rewrite the moment. As though this were some nightmare he could will himself to wake from.  

And maybe it would have been a dream — a bad one — if they’d all just listened to you. If they hadn’t chased after the crown, if they’d let greed and desperation go. Maybe you’d be lying in the chateau right now, the sunlight warming your skin, talking about tomorrow with hope instead of fear.  

But life didn’t work like that.  

You knew this outcome was inevitable. You’d known something was off, a shadow lurking on the edge of this adventure. You’d felt it in your bones. But even so, you couldn’t walk away. You couldn’t leave your family behind.  

Because they wouldn’t have made it without you.  

You were the glue that held them together, the one who kept the chaos from consuming them all. You cooked when they forgot to eat, bandaged wounds when they refused to stop, made plans when they leapt without looking. You were the mother, the voice of reason, the protector. You carried their burdens as if they were your own, no matter how heavy they became.  

And you’d never leave them in trouble. Even if it meant leaving the world behind. 

“Hey, hey, it’s not your fault,” you murmured, your voice trembling but steady enough to cut through his despair. With a shaky hand, you wiped the tears from his face, your fingers brushing against the salt trails on his skin. “I couldn’t leave you. I couldn’t... leave you alone.”

“But that’s what you’re doing now!” JJ cried, his voice cracking like a child’s. A loud, broken sob tore from his lips as he pulled you closer, holding you as if sheer force could tether you to him. The raw pain in his eyes shattered you more than the knife ever could. “You’re leaving me! It should’ve been me! Why— why did you take it all on yourself?”

“JJ...” you whispered, your fingers threading weakly through his hair, softer than you’d ever imagined. The sunlight kissed the golden strands, turning him into something otherworldly — a fragile angel, aching and broken. Your vision blurred, the world dissolving into a haze, but you clung to him, fighting to stay present. For him.

“I did it because you have to live,” you said softly, your voice cracking under the weight of your words. “Because you deserve to live. You deserve a happy ending.”

Your breath hitched, and a cough wracked your body, leaving a metallic tang on your lips. A thin stream of blood trickled from the corner of your mouth, but you ignored it, your focus entirely on him. On the boy you loved more than life itself.

“You deserve a happy life more than anyone, JJ,” you continued, the words fragile but unyielding. “You have to go on your adventures, see the world, make your dreams come true... I...” You paused, gathering the last fragments of your strength. “At home, under my bed, there’s a box. It has the money left from El Dorado...”

A faint, bittersweet smile touched your lips as the truth of it all washed over you like the tide. Every decision, every moment over the last few months had led to this. Saving that money, denying yourself fleeting indulgences — it had all been for this. Deep down, maybe you’d known. Maybe you’d felt it all along, the shadow of inevitability hanging over you.

From the very beginning, when the crown became a glimmering temptation, you’d sensed it. Something about it felt wrong, like a weight in your chest that wouldn’t ease. You hadn’t wanted to go — you’d begged them to stay, to stop chasing after danger and live, just live. But they wouldn’t have listened, not even to you.

And so you’d gone. Because they needed you.

The irony struck you now, sharp and bitter, and you almost laughed. All you’d wanted was a simple life — a reprieve from the constant running, the relentless searching, the near brushes with death. You’d only wanted one quiet moment to breathe.

But life had never let you stop.

“Take the money,” you whispered, your voice thin but insistent. “Leave. Start over. Find your happiness, JJ. Live... for me.”

Your fingers lingered on his cheek, memorizing the warmth of him, the boy who had been your whole world. The tears falling from his eyes pooled at the edges of your smile.

Even as the edges of the world began to fade, you clung to one truth: you would give everything for him. And you had.

“Don’t you dare do that,” JJ choked out, shaking his head as if denying the reality before him could rewrite it. His trembling hand brushed a damp strand of hair from your forehead, the tenderness in his touch breaking your heart anew. “Don’t you dare say goodbye,” he sobbed, pressing a desperate kiss to your head. His arms rocked you gently, cradling you as though the rhythm alone could anchor you to him. “We’ll do it all together, you hear me? We’ll start over. We’ll visit every corner of this damn world. We’ll grow old together... I won’t — I can’t let you leave me like this.”

You tried to answer, but your body betrayed you. It was slipping further out of your control, growing lighter, weightless, like a feather carried off by the wind. Still, you smiled — soft, faint, but filled with all the love you couldn’t put into words.

Your eyes fluttered shut, the pull of oblivion so strong, but you forced them open again. Over and over, you fought against it, clinging to the fragile thread of life. Not for yourself — for him. For the dreams you had spun together in quiet moments, the ones you had whispered into the dark when the world felt too heavy.

You thought of those dreams now, pulling them close like a lifeline.

You’d planned it all, written it down in the little diary you kept hidden away since you were a child. Its pages were filled with messy sketches of hearts and scrawled dreams, and in so many of them was his name — your best friend, your everything. Back then, you were too shy to confess your feelings, too scared of what losing him might mean. But that little girl, the one who poured her heart onto those pages, would be over the moon now. She’d never believe JJ Maybank had become hers.

How many times had you imagined the life you’d build together? Leaving Kildare behind, hand in hand, to find new adventures in the wide, open world. Finding that perfect spot by the sea — a place that felt like home. Slowly, brick by brick, you’d build a new life together, one where all the scars and broken pieces of your pasts didn’t matter anymore.

You could almost see it. The day JJ would propose.

He’d plan it for weeks, determined to make it perfect, pouring over every cliché from the romantic comedies you adored. He’d rehearse speeches in secret, dragging John B and Pope into his schemes, pestering them to help him nail every detail. And yet, on the day itself, when he finally saw you, everything he’d practiced would vanish.

He’d forget the rehearsed words, the plans, everything but you.

JJ would drop to one knee, his hands shaking as he pulled out a small, worn ring — the one he’d kept hidden for years, a precious piece of his mother’s legacy. He’d hold it out to you, his voice cracking as he whispered the only words that mattered: Be mine. Forever.

And you would be. You’d take his hand, slip on that ring, and promise him everything. You’d become the happiest girl in the world, every piece of your soul woven into his.

Forever.

But now, forever felt impossibly far away.

“I love you, JJ Maybank,” you whispered, the words barely audible but carrying the weight of a lifetime. Your gaze lingered on his sea-blue eyes, anchoring yourself in their depth, memorizing every detail — the way they shimmered like sunlight on water, the way they always felt like home.

“You’ve become my dream.”

The words left your lips like a prayer, soft and eternal. Your eyelids fluttered, heavy with the pull of exhaustion, and slowly, they closed. Darkness crept in, warm and quiet, wrapping around you like JJ’s arms — steady, protective, safe. If this was death, it wasn’t cruel. It was peace. And if this was how it felt to go, you thought, then you would gladly endure it a thousand times over just to feel him near.

But as the silence deepened and the void seemed to pull you further away, a voice rose above it — a sound so strong, so certain, it cut through the emptiness like a lifeline.

“I won’t leave you. Never.”

His voice was raw, desperate, but unshakably firm, as if willing the universe to bend to his promise.

And you believed him.

You fell, your body surrendering to the weightlessness, but the thought of him grounded you. You held on to his words, letting them guide you like a beacon through the dark.

Even as the void swallowed you whole, there was a certainty buried deep within your heart.

When you opened your eyes again, you knew he would be there.

thankx for reading <3

I love one direction. I love jj maybank. and I love this fic. but I don't like killing characters. I can't write about death after Liam and JJ's death, it's very hard for me, so I decided to leave the ending kinda open? for me, the reader is still alive, but if you like dramatic endings, then you can end the story on the death of the reader.

and as usual, you can always share your opinion in comments or my inbox :3

                                    – your santi 🪐

masterlist

[creamflix]

HI KASHI <33 hope you’re having a great day !! saw your requests are open so i’m here asking if you could write gojo and/or choso trying to take care of a sick fem!reader take your time ofc !! love you and your writing so much <33

content: established relationship with gojo & choso (seperate), no reader gender specified, reader is sick, fluff and crack thank u for the request ml. i was having a really tough day and writing this made me feel a whole lot better. hope you enjoy <3 — general masterlist ☆

when in doubt, mochi it out.

a slogan that makes no sense, but when it comes to your boyfriend, SATORU, nothing ever truly does. he is nothing if not persistent, committed to his very questionable ways of taking care of you. you're curled up on the couch, sniffling into your third tissue of the hour, bundled up in enough blankets to resemble a very grumpy burrito.

“mochi makes everything better,” he declares, brandishing the tray of snacks like it's a miracle cure. “don’t fight it. just let the healing power of dessert take over.”

you stare at him, eyes glassy from your cold. “it’s sugar and rice, toru. sugar. i’m pretty sure that’s the opposite of medicine.”

“ah ah ah, but you underestimate the psychological benefits,” he counters, shoving a fluffy piece of mochi dangerously close to your face. “studies show happiness boosts the immune system, and you can’t tell me you’re not happy when you see me. c'mooonnn. smile for the genius doctor.”

“you’re not a doctor.”

“not officially. but emotionally? i’ve got my phd in loving you.”

you groan, sinking further into your cocoon. “that doesn’t even —”

“ah-ah! don’t strain yourself, sweetheart,” he interrupts, pressing a finger to your lips with all the drama of a soap opera actor. “you need your energy to chew this delicious, healing mochi.”

you cough pointedly, aiming it at him. he doesn’t flinch.

“cute,” he grins. “see? that’s already a 5% improvement. now, let’s move on to phase two of my revolutionary treatment plan: satoru’s patented personal heater.”

before you can protest, he’s wedging himself onto the couch beside you, all long limbs and ridiculous confidence. he wraps himself around you like a clingy octopus, radiating an absurd amount of heat. it would be sweet if he wasn’t crushing you under his weight.

“satoru,” you wheeze, “i can’t breathe.”

“that’s the illness talking. it’s fine. i’m a doctor, remember?”

you somehow manage to elbow him in the ribs, and he laughs, pulling back just enough to give you some air. “okay, okay. personal heater mode: adjusted.”

he adjusts the blanket around you, tucking it in like you’re a patient in some bizarre spa. “better?”

you nod grudgingly, but the relief doesn’t last. he’s back to poking and prodding at you almost immediately.

“you know, this could’ve all been avoided if you wore my scarf last week,” he muses, squinting at you like a disappointed parent. “but noooo, ‘i don’t need it, toru, it’s not that cold.’ and now look at you. tragic.”

“you sound like nanami,” you mutter, voice muffled by your blanket fortress.

he gasps like you’ve mortally wounded him. “take that back. i’m fun. i brought snacks!”

“i don’t want snacks, i want soup.”

“soup's for the weak. mochi's for winners.”

you groan again, though you can’t entirely suppress the smile tugging at your lips. satoru catches it immediately, of course.

“ah, see? the mochi's working! admit it, i’m the best boyfriend ever.”

“you’re insufferable,” you mumble, but the affection in your voice is impossible to hide.

“that’s just the fever talking.” he boops your nose with one of the little mochi pieces before popping it into his mouth, looking far too pleased with himself.

he leans back, pulling you closer against him. “you know, they say laughter is the best medicine. so technicallyyy, i’m already curing you.”

“does that mean you’ll stop with the jokes?”

“never. but i will feed you the cough syrup if you ask nicely. i might even do the airplane noise if you’re extra sweet.”

you throw another tissue at his face. he dodges it with a laugh, catching it mid-air.

“you loooovvve me,” he sing-songs, wrapping his arms around you again.

you sigh, leaning into him despite yourself. “unfortunately.”

“and that’s why you’ll live to see another day,” he grins, pressing a kiss to your temple. “now, how about i grab some soup and mochi? compromise is key, after all.”

CHOSO genuinely looks like he’s seen a ghost, which is almost ironic because you’re the one that feels like death warmed over. his wide eyes are glued to your flushed face, and it’s clear that his brain is short-circuiting.

“are you... okay?” he asks, voice just above a whisper, like raising it might make you crumble into dust.

“it’s just a cold, cho,” you rasp, reaching out to reassure him. but he takes an immediate, panicked step back, hands flying up in surrender.

“yuuji said humans are fragile when they’re sick,” he mutters, gaze flickering nervously between you and the floor. “and you look...fragile.”

“i’m not going to break.”

“but what if you do?” he blurts, voice cracking slightly, and you can’t help but blink at him in disbelief. choso isn’t usually one to panic, but apparently, the idea of you being sick has completely thrown him off balance.

when you ask for medicine, he darts away like a frightened deer and returns seconds later with a blister pack and a bottle of water. he leaves them on the coffee table before retreating again, this time halfway across the room.

“choooo,” you groan, flopping onto the couch. “you’re making it weird.”

“i’m not trying to,” he mumbles, standing stiffly like he’s trying to work out the math of the optimal distance to keep from you. “is this... far enough?”

“you’re acting like i’m contagious.”

“are you not?”

“you’re half a curse! pretty sure you’re immune!” you glare at him weakly. “you won’t catch my cold. i just want you to sit with me. please.”

his brow furrows, and you can practically see the gears turning. the logical part of him is probably agreeing with you, but the overprotective boyfriend part — the part yuuji apparently filled with all kinds of advice — looks terrified.

“...okay,” he says at last, hesitantly moving toward you like he’s approaching a sleeping bear. “but if you start looking worse, i’m calling yuuji.”

you laugh, but it quickly turns into a coughing fit. immediately, choso panics again. “do you need something? tea? soup? a doctor? i can go get someone —”

“cho,” you wheeze, waving him down. “soup sounds nice. just grab it from the kitchen.”

he’s off like a shot, and you can hear him fumbling around in the kitchen for a while before he reappears, carefully balancing a steaming bowl. this time, he doesn’t put it down and bolt. instead, he sits down next to you, though he still leaves a noticeable gap.

“do you want me to... feed it to you?” he asks awkwardly, holding the spoon like it might bite him.

you bite back a grin. “’s okay, cho. i can manage.”

he looks relieved but still watches you like a hawk as you eat, ready to spring into action at the slightest sign of distress. and honestly? it’s kinda sweet. sure, he’s overthinking everything, but his concern is endearing.

“thanks for taking care of me,” you say softly, leaning against him once you’ve finished. he stiffens for a moment but doesn’t pull away, letting you rest your head on his shoulder.

“yuuji said that’s what you’re supposed to do for the people you care about,” he mutters, his voice barely above a whisper.

“he also probably didn’t tell you to act like i’m radioactive.”

“...no.”

you chuckle, feeling a little better already.

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