#the fact that little people like me can and do try to do what they can on an individual level but that it ultimately needs the Big Changes

[light-wrath-paradise]

Okay I think one of us may have lost the plot because I quite literally have no idea what you're talking about at this point.

i wish there was an easier way to tell the difference between an "if it sucks hit da bricks" situation and a "sometimes being an adult means doing things that you dont wanna" situation

[kenyummy]

✰ 04. the ballad of a bygone blight.

✰ ꒰ ⍣'ˎ˗ platonic yandere batfam / spider! reader ꒱

✰ 04. fantastic four.

SYNOPSIS : being spidey isn't easy. being transported into an alternate universe where you're nothing but a shadow in your house, makes sneaking around a little easier... until you find yourself the apple of their eye... kind of.

note: had to wrack my brain to remember what math i was learning in seventh grade LMAO . sometimes i forget damian is just a little guy in like seventh to eighth grade. crazy. and please let me know if there's any mistakes with pronouns/gender!!! i want to keep this open to everybody so im always trying my best ❤️

also ive realised how chopped harry is in the comics after taking my rose coloured lenses off. basically he and mj have their look in the ultimate spiderman TV show (in my eyes anyway, i kind of just described their appearance based off tgat lmaooo)

prev. ✰ masterlist ✰ next.

School has never felt so bland for you. Sure, it was never your favourite thing in the world—except for maybe biology—but you'd think that discovering a whole new world in your last year would make it a little more interesting.

It didn't.

It's been three weeks since you crash landed here in Gotham. The most you'd gotten from your family was an awkward "how are you" occasionally, and a lot of staring.

You'd only shown yourself as Spidey a few times to the public, but never stayed for those pesky news reporters shoving their microphones into your face. You'd never liked interviews, anyway.

The only highlight of your long days were MJ and Harry. You'd gotten over the initial shock of Harry being in love with you—convincing yourself that it really wasn't you he liked; it was this world's original you. (Though—that fact still lingers in the back of your mind whenever you talk).

Apart from that, school truly was uneventful. Your kooky art teacher was the only one of whom you actually liked, and it seemed the education here was rather lax. Uncaring. Not good for your future, surely—but you wouldn't have a future here, and you're sure this [name] Wayne will be just fine.

Speaking of schooling—the people here really seemed to hate the Gotham Prep kids. More than what a petty rivalry should be—it was pure malice.

Harry was especially adamant about this.

"They're all dumb, entitled rich kids who use daddy's money to get whatever they want, you know." He stabs his fork into a dry cut of chicken violently. Then points, accusatory, at MJ—who already presents a sneer to him. "And don't you start lumping me in with them—you know I'm not like that."

Her face twists, but soon she grins cheekily. "Okay, fine. Yeah, you're totally not, otherwise nobody here would like you one bit. And who doesn't love Harry, huh?"

"Oh, be quiet," But still, he smiles—damn his head is big. He glances over at you. You're picking around at your soggy broccoli with a frown. "Hey, [name]. Don't two of your brothers go to Gotham Prep?"

You look up at your ginger friend, head tilted to the side before it clicked. Oh, right. Tim and that young boy—Damian, if you remember correctly. Tim barely ever went to school if your diary was still accurate, and Damian had little choice but to.

(Doesn't seem like he'd be the social butterfly type, though.)

"Yeah, they do." You nod, still fiddling around with that vegetable.

"Not that I'm not glad that you're here—but why don't you go to school with them?" MJ leans forward in her seat. "I mean, isn't it easier for siblings to go to the same school?"

Your eyes widen for a second.

There's a few ways you can go about this.

One—you tell them everything you know about your other self. About how you never felt included enough to ask. How you never spent time with them. How it always felt like everything and everyone else was more important than you. How you suffered silently—begging for their attention for years like a house pet becoming a stray.

Two—you could tell them you have absolutely no idea because you have none of your memories of anything from the past years of this life—how you don't even remember all your siblings names half the time.

Or three, and your personal favourite—you can just lie.

It doesn't take a serial genius to figure out which one you chose.

"I guess I just didn't like the rich private school vibe they had going on." A smile falls over your lips. "Plus—you guys were coming here, so it gave me even more of a reason to attend, you know?"

You're not entirely sure that's true. But—if these two were anything like the Harry and MJ you know—then this would probably be right.

Judging from their smiles, your detective skills haven't failed you yet.

"Man!" MJ lolls her head back, groaning. "Can't believe I'm friends with two rich kids who get to choose which school they want—the beat down public or sleek rich private."

"Don't go dissing this school just because you're jealous of their uniforms," Harry snickers, pressing his index finger into MJ's cheek. She huffs and slaps him away.

"Silence, nepo baby. Your dad is basically Lex Luthor if he wasn't bald."

Harry looks more confused than offended at her comment, "Okay, but my dad isn't an evil mastermind plotting against a red and blue suited superhero."

You press your lips together thinly and look to the side, eyes focused on anything but him. Oh, Harry—if only you knew.

Damian Wayne had never truly seen the point of highschool.

Raised by assassains all his life—he had little room, time, and desire to learn about all this nonsense. While he enjoyed arts and fine literature—he couldn't find it within himself to care about the American Revolution, or whatever other ridiculous thing happened in history.

His maths teacher was absolutely, indubitably pathetic. Always on his phone as he assigns mountains of homework (because he never bothers to explain the complex materials they're given) on the latest subject—whether it be those blasted simultaneous equations, or to factorise useless monic trinomials. Even calculating tax and interest on the stupidest of cases.

Damian found himself sitting in the corner of his class in silence, staring down, bored, at the book in front of him. He truly hated math. There's so much real work to be done—crime to fight, plotting organisations to take down.

But his father, as always, is unmoving in his conviction that school is important. For Damian especially, anyway; Drake can skip as often as he likes because he's a senior already. Truly, ridiculous.

For Damian, and—oh.

You.

Bruce always seemed especially insistent on you two going to school. Even when everyone but him knew you skipped every few days and simply come home to wait.

Wait for what? For them?

His brows furrow. Suddenly, the black and white equations on the sheet blur and he zones out. Thinking.

You always did. From the day he'd walked into the manor, you were always there. Unconsciously, he'd notice it. A trait of a good assassin is that they can spot everyone in the room.

A trait of a great assassin is that they can spot everyone inside and watching.

Always, you were watching. Those pitiful stares. Desperate like a unloved pet. If he cared a little more (if any at all), he would've felt sorrow for your state.

Always wanting, but never asking. Never taking. Simply waiting for it all to come to you. He would never understand it. He would never understand you.

He would never understand how somebody could allow themselves to be so weak.

Like everybody else—when he first entered the manor, he proposed to fight you. Assuming—being the child of his father, like he was—you were worthy. That you were strong.

He doesn't know how he could've been so wrong. You immediantly reacted, gasping and clutching your face. He'd nicked it with the edge of his blade after he unsheathed it. You looked at the blood dotting your fingertips, then back at him, eyes wide.

Immediantly, Bruce rushed to his side and pushed him behind his larger, imposing figure—telling you to not interact with him because he's different to regular people. Different to you.

He watched you storm off from behind his father's legs; anger practically blaring off your figure.

Later—he happened to overhear you and Grayson talking quietly. Telling you to not be too hard on Damian, because he's troubled. That he's had a difficult life. At first—he was a tad offended—but that offence could not compare to the absolute fury burning in your eyes.

Though, it all melted away when Grayson's hand ruffled your hair. Like a little kid, you stared up at him, soft and starry-eyed as you unconsciously murmured you'd forgive your new little brother.

Damian dry-heaved. You were so goddamn weak.

So weak, and so normal. Everything you did was completely regular. You were on the same wavelength as the civilians he saved from burning rubble. The same as people who walked down the street, talking about their favourite Justice League member. Who cowered in fear in front of villains—to be saved by those heroes. By him.

You were nothing, and yet everything he could never have been.

(What child does not long for normalcy?)

Damian always thought you were rather helpless, regardless of how regular you were—and seeing you with that bullet lodged in your shoulder—he was right. Not being able to dodge something like a bullet—there was no wonder you never become a vigilante. There was no wonder you needed to be protected.

... Though—he began to think back.

Who did? Protect you; that is.

Whoever it was, they did a pretty awful job at it.

Damian strums his fingers against the hardwood table rhythmically. Face blank but mind running rapidly.

It couldn't have been Todd. No—he seemed to be in a frazzled state of mania when carrying your bleeding body in your arms. Perhaps he too, believed you were safe with the rest of his family.

(Oh how wrong Todd was—he looked livid.)

... Grayson?

No. When he's not in Blüdhaven, he is almost always with the other vigilantes within the family. Not here nor there, and certainly not close enough to protect you.

Not Drake. He never cared enough, despite everything. Not Cain, either. Though the silent protector type—she had too much on her plate to worry about you as well.

Gordon and Brown had their own families to worry about.

And his—your father? The Batman? There was no time for a regular child like you in the Batman's life of vigilantism. Whom he sworn to protect in his crusade now lay bleeding out in his great failure's arms.

...

Did you truly have nobody?

...

Damian couldn't really imagine it. He'd always assumed you had many friends to fill the void that yoir family left with their civilian clothes. ... Perhaps you did. He wouldn't know.

You are his only half sibling. In this world, only he is truly your brother, and you are his only older sibling. Does that not give him the slightest of responsibility?

He'd always been taught to keep everybody at arms length—even his own family. The whole world is out to get the Demon's grandson, then he must fight it. But his father taught him differently.

To protect those who cannot protect themselves—to keep those he cares about safe at any cost.

What of you? He does not care for you in the way an ordinary sibling should. Seeing you so weak, defenceless against him—must mean you trust him in some way.

(It's hard for him to fathom being able to feel so unprotected in a world he was taught was trying to extinguish him at every turn).

Regardless of how you don't belong—or how frosty you act toward your youngest brother—he has a duty.

No matter how hard you try—you can never sever the blood you two share. The others do not have this duty—but he does, because in the end, you are his. None of the others bothered, so Damian must.

You are everything he could never be, he has realised. But in the end, you are blood. It runs thicker in the veins than any water, and that is one of the most important things to Damian.

Seeing that same blood—his blood—spill out of you carelessly—that is a sight he will never bear witness to again.

Damian was the first one out the door as soon as the bell chimed in his ear. His bag slung tightly around his shoulders and textbook under his arm; he rushed into the familiar sight of a sleek, large car.

He shuts the door as he climbs into the backseat (Bruce said he was still too short to sit in the front, much to his son's displeasure). "Hello, Pennyworth."

Alfred glances back at him through the rear view mirror. "Good afternoon, Master Damian. How was school?"

"Same as usual. A waste of time." He clicks his seatbelt shut as the car begins to move. Alfred only hums, keeping his eyes trained on the road.

"I'm unsurprised to hear you say so. I do hope you understand why exactly, you are enrolled in school, however. And why Master Bruce is so adamant about your attendance."

Damian knows. He's always known, because it has been drilled into his head like a mantra. Talia and Ra's Al Ghul weren't math teachers—and most of his time really was spent training and sparring to be the best he could be.

He was not illiterate, nor stupid. Rather smart, actually. However, he didn't exactly learn algebra and chemistry with the League of Assassins.

He grumbles. "I know, Pennyworth. Father cannot seem to stop reminding me that all these things are far more important than stopping the endless wave of crime in Gotham."

If he weren't on the road—Alfred surely would've given him a nasty look. "Master Damian, please—your sincerity is positively slaughtering me."

Damian rolls his eyes, opting to stop this fruitless conversation and look outside the windows instead. At the outside world—the sky already paling to deep auburn shades as they drive through the endless roads.

He watched all the cars moving past; hurrying to get to their destination. Each with their own story and reason for being there. Every single one with their own thoughts and worries. Some with children, others with pets, and some with piles of groceries.

All with their own, individual lives. Including him.

A bus, too. It stops for a moment at a sheltered space, then drives away, leaving a few people standing under the shade.

An elderly lady with a man, presumably her son, walking away with her. A woman with frizzy red hair and freckles dotted over her nose. A few schoolkids—some his age, some older. Clearly from the public school on the other side of Gotham, if only to judge from the scantily clad clothes some of the older students wore—

Wait, is that you?

He sits up—the car slowly coming to a stop at a red light. His eyes don't leave your figure as he presses his nose against the window; observing.

You look around at the people that pass by you—gripping your bag close to your side and rushing into the nearest alleyway.

He waits for a few moments. This red light feels rather long—but what feels longer is watching and waiting for you to come out of that alleyway.

You never do.

Even as the car begins to move once more, driving past the intersection, he crawls as far back as possible to even get a glimpse—but you never show.

Just today, he had decided to be the one to take up the mantle and protect you. Just today, during a boring math class, he has decided that since you are his blood, he must keep a helpless civilian like you safe.

And now you're gone. Are you dead, or something?

(Deep down, his stomach twists at the thought.)

"Pennyworth, pull over." Hid voice is more taut than he had imagined. "Now."

Alfred looks back, glancing at the streets around. He doesn't question the young boy, simply doing as he is asked and pulling over to a deserted parking area.

When he has parked the car, he turns around and sees Damian slipping his Robin mask on—somehow already fully suited up.

His eyes widen, "Master Damian, what—"

"I have something to do. Let Father know I will be back home late."

Opening the door, Damian rushes out and pulls out his grappling hook, swinging onto the nearest building's roof and looking around.

He spots the alleyway you'd run into. It is still. Absolutely no movement nor any looks from passer-bys. He rushes across the roves towards where the dark side seeped into the crack of the buildings.

Maybe you'd taken another way out?

But looking at the alleyway now, it's more like a dip between the buildings to stand in more than anything. It was blocked off on the other side.

So where...???

He drops down, landing on his soles and squinting as he stares around into the dark. There's nothing.

No people, nor bodies, and certainly not anything to indicate anybody was ever here.

Except...

He glances at the wall. Theres a white cocoon-esque oval webbed to the wall. Those same webs he'd seen all that time ago—from that spider. That would show up then leave immediantly. Never staying for longer than they had to.

Dodging all of his and Batman's attempts at asking who you were, and what you were doing in Gotham. Always swinging away into the distance before they could be subdued.

Now, he stares at their ball of webbing and wonders if it truly is an arachnid he's dealing with.

He pokes it, looking it up and down. Then, he sees it. Through the small holes in the webs and the translucent, silk-like material—he finally sees it.

Your bag.

He tears off the webbing faster than he can think, getting the sticky substance stuck to his gloves and clothes; he barely even notices it. He grabs your bag and stares it, swallowing hard.

His mind buzzes with an unfamiliar staticky feeling and he suddenly feels sick to his stomach. Despite all the noise in his ear—his brain is able to comprehend one singular question.

... What did that arachnid do to you?

Clothed fingers digging deep into the leather fabric of the bag—clearly worn down and fading. Old. He would get Father to purchase you another. ... When he sees you next. Because he will.

His jaw clenches hard.

Damian throws the bag over his shoulder and grapples up—swinging onto a building roof and running across.

Running for what, he isn't sure. But what he is sure of, is that once he gets his hands on that arachnid, it will not be kind.

To find out what happened to you—that is his duty as your blood sibling.

He decides that in this life, he will be your protector. In the next, if he is ever given a chance to be normal like you—he will become a doctor. Or perhaps a painter. Or a poet. Maybe he will ask you to help him decide when he finds you and that arachnid.

... Yes, that sounds good.

You cut through the cool wind as you swing through the city. Grinning widely underneath your mask—you don't think you've ever been so happy since you landed here.

You're sure nobody will take your stuff. Even if they do, you could always just get whatever else you needed again. You were far too excited to dwell on the small stuff right about now.

Landing on a rooftop, crouched—you walk down the wall of the apartment complex, and look around for civilians. As he told you—the streets around the back of the building were practically deserted.

You count the amount of rooms from the side, up and down.

"Row 5, Apartment block... 2..." You hum, and nod to yourself.

You tap your necklace and the nanobots all crawl off your body, leaving you in your regular clothes. You land safely on the balcony of the room you were given.

You smooth out your flared jeans and take in a deep breath. Then, you bring up your knuckles, and knock.

The glass screen door opens before you can say fantastic.

A small pair of arms wrap around your torso and knock you backwards—you fall on your ass and let out a loud laugh.

"Spidey!!! [name]!!!"

"Is that who I think it is?!" You tease, eyes squinted upwards and the young kid buries into your stomach. His giggles are muffled by the fabric and he squeezes you so tight you'd be inclined to choke—if it wasn't you. "Frankie!! How's my favourite Richard?"

"I can't believe you'd say that, [name]. That hurts." A familiarly sweet voice speaks.

"Sue!" You grin, taking in the sight of the blonde and her husband by her side. You get up—Franklin stumbles behind you—and crash into her arms.

She chuckles, patting your back and smiling down at you, "I missed you too, [name]. You always manage to find yourself in the strangest situations, don't you?"

Reed cradles his chin, "Well, we were technically the cause of this distortion in reality, Susan—"

But seeing the expression on both your and his wife's face; he stops himself. Only smiling sheepishly. "My apologies. It's great to see you again, [name]. I didn't think we'd find another familiar face in a different universe."

"You're getting better at this, Reed." You lift yourself from Sue's comforting cradle and grin brightly up at him. "I didn't think I'd see all of you guys again, either. When you all disappeared for so long—I was wondering if something bad happened."

"Hah! Ta us? You kiddin'? Ya more bug-brained 'den that spider that bit ya!"

"Ben!!!" You go flying toward the rock-encased man and wrap your arms around his comfortingly tough neck. He spins you around and lets you down with a loud laugh.

"'Ey kid, how're ya? Heard ya tackled ol' matchstick 'ere outta the sky!" He slaps his rocky chest laughing—in the corner of your eye, Johnny stands behind him, unimpressed.

He walks up beside you, swinging an arm around your neck and snarks, "Yeah—well, Spidey's always been known for catching people off guard, huh? Creepin' up when you least expect it."

"You're making [name] sound like a villain, Unc!" Frankin, who had found himself attached to the side of your shirt, sticks out his tongue.

Johnny recoils, face falling in pure horror as he dramatically points at the young boy, "UNC??!! I... I'm an Unc now...??? I'm not even 19! I can't be an Unc!!!"

You burst out into laughter at the genuineness of Johnny's expression, watching as he freaks out about being "old". Sue and Reed roll their eyes—while Ben is there with you, laughing his ass off like he'd just gotten a home run on Yancy Street.

Franklin looks at your laughing expression and starts giggling along—jumping up and down beside you with sparkling eyes.

"Stop laughing, [name]! We're the same age!" Johnny points, accusatory. "If I'm an Unc, you're a...!"

"Doesn't matter. I'm cooler than Uncle Johnny anyways, right Frankie?" You grin, picking up Franklin as he cuddles into your neck.

"Mhm!" He nods eagerly.

Johnny sends you a blazing glare, lips pouted out. "You and me. We're—" He gestures to the two of you. "—gonna have some issues, here. Okay. Everyone knows I'm the cool Uncle."

"No, that's Benny!" Franklin points to Ben.

The look on Johnny's face shifts into utter disbelief—Ben falls out of his chair laughing wildly.

"Gosh, I missed you so much, kid." You pull at one of Franklin's cheeks and chuckle. He stares at you in awe for a few seconds, before hugging the side of your head and giggling.

"I missed you too!"

That same warmth fills each crevice and pore of your body, as you huddle close to your dear friends and let yourself feel at home for this small moment.

Meanwhile, in the dark of night, a pair of azure eyes watches, sharp and unnerving in the back of your skull.

You notice it. Of course you do. Your mind is tingling with that buzz—but you want to enjoy this night of nothing but home, even if only once.

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tsglist is closed, sorry! but do try and keep up with updates thank you!!!

[sports-on-sundays]

Hello hello, I am back with another request! It's with Oscar again but friends to lovers. Hear me out, the most cliche thing ever. Oscar loves her, she loves him but both too dense to realise it. They are out and about and another dude corners her and tries to make out with her, Oscar saves the day (make him protective and violent pls, make him punch the guy (side note: I would pay money to see Oscar actually punch someone, don't ask me why idk🙈)). So then he comforts her, takes her home and she asks him to stay. I will leave the rest of the convo to you🤗. Let there be a first kiss and cuddle I beg I am the biggest sucker for those bcs Oscar seems like the best guy to have your firsts with.

Holy hell that's a long ass request haha. Thank you for reading all that🤣 have fun with it and feel free to change things up a little bit if you want to!

be / OP81

Summary: Oscar x female!best childhood friend!Australian!reader - You and Oscar are finally forced to realize your feelings for each other.

Warnings: panicking, someone forcing himself onto another person, blood, crying, i did change up the request a little bit 🤏, feeling sick

Requested: Yes! And don't worry about the long request, I really liked it, and thanks so much for requesting! Long requests are better sometimes anyway.

Author's Note: Guys I'm starting to think I seriously need my very own Oscar Piastri....

"It wasn't even that funny-"

"It wasn't even that funny!"

Both you and Oscar look up to who it was mockingly imitating Oscar's friendly teasing, and your eyes set themselves upon Lando Norris, smirking obnoxiously.

"What's your problem?" you demand, crossing your arms, most of the laughter from Oscar's joke that he made fives minutes ago (yes, you were still laughing your head off at it) gone.

"What do you mean? I'm just kidding. It's just funny how your boyfriend can make the most dumb joke, and send you both into a ten minute laughing fit-"

"Boyfriend?" you and Oscar seem to ask incredulously in sink.

The smile falls off of Lando's face this time, and is replaced by a look of surprise and confusion. "Waaaait... So you're trying to tell me you guys aren't dating?"

Oscar blinks a few times in confusion. "Y/n and I are just friends. We always have been."

"Yeah," you add quickly, nodding. "I don't know why everyone thinks differently."

Lando's eyebrows raise in amusement. "Maybe because you guys act like you're mad in love...? Like, all the time? Or maybe the fact that you come to every single one of our races? Or maybe it's the way you look at each other with heart eyes, like the other one is the only one in the room? I mean, I don't know. It could be the way you're always giggling and talking and yapping to each other... But, oh, what do I and everybody else know?"

"Good question," Oscar deadpans. "What do you know?"

Lando shrugs, rollings his eyes, and struts away. As soon as he's gone, Oscar turns back to you with a little shrug and says, "Sorry about that. I guess nobody gets that two people can love each other as friends without feeling romantic feelings..."

You nod, shrugging. It makes sense to you, simply because that's how it's always been with you and Oscar, forever. The two of you practically slept in the same crib (not literally!). You always just assumed he's like a brother or something, and it doesn't pay to consider anything else. So you haven't. Too risky, and besides- that's not worth it to waste your time thinking about. You like things just the way they are, no need to change them.

"-Y/n?"

"Hm?!" you look up, snapping out of your pondering.

Oscar smiles at you, his brown eyes soft, like they always are when he looks at you. You smile back, eyes equally as warm as he says, "Did you hear me?" in amusement.

You chuckle, "No, sorry."

He nods, giving your shoulder a little pat as he stands up. "I've got to go now get ready for the race. First of the season. Wish me luck!"

"Luck isn't needed," you say with a little grin. "You've got enough skill alone to win it."

He grins. "I guess. But luck never hurts, does it?"

"Not at all." You stand up with him and give him a quick half-hug, saying gentler, "Drive safe, and bring it home. I'll be cheering you on."

"Like always?"

"Like always."

"Hey, Y/n?"

You look up from your phone, shutting it off. You're sitting alone, long after the 2025 season opening race, the Australian Grand Prix, has ended. You haven't seen Oscar since the race ended, and have just been sitting around, not wanting to go home until you have a chance to talk with him. And there he is, standing there, back in his regular clothes: a black sweatshirt, sweatpants, and sneakers, looking thoroughly sleepy.

You immediately stand up, smiling, saying simply, "It was a great drive."

"Well, I-"

"Hush. You scored points after what happened, and that's enough, for goodness' sake."

He smiles softly, and though his eyes say a lot more, he just nods and says simply, "Yeah, yeah, you're right. As always."

You nod promptly and say teasingly, "I know!"

He just rolls his eyes and says, already in a better mood just by talking to you, "Mum wanted you over tonight for dinner."

You grin, "She did, did she?"

"You know she always does, whenever I'm around, want me to bring you over. She adores you."

"She's the sweetest," you chuckle. "Well, I wouldn't mind one of your mum's home cooked meals."

Oscar nods, grabbing his coat, and saying, "I agree; that would hit the spot right now. C'mon."

You two make it to the car and get in, before you start heading to Oscar's mother's home. The car ride is mostly silent, but neither of you really mind. It's a comfortable, good kind of silence.

Towards the end of it, though, you ask simply, "So, that's the end of the first race week of the season. How're you feeling?"

Oscar shrugs, thinking for a few moments, before saying, "Hmm... I guess I'd have to say tired, but very hopeful."

You smile. "Good. You just need your beauty rest, huh?"

He glances at you with a cute little smile. "Right."

Dinner is nice. Warm, and reminds you of home, and your childhood, and everything good. And it's perfect for a rainy day like today.

Once he's finished eating, though, Oscar stands up, stretching, from the table, and says, "Well, I should be off to bed..."

"Oh, Oscar, you will give poor Y/n a ride home won't you?" Oscar's mother asks.

He looks over at you with a little smile and nods, saying, "Oh, right, of course."

You walk to the door together, but before Oscar opens the front door to leave, you gently grab his arm and say simply, "Osc."

He looks up from unlocking the door, meeting your eyes. "Hm?" he asks gently.

"You don't need to drive me home. I could get a cab or take the bus or whatever. It's all good. You've had a crazy week, as it is, much crazier than mine-"

"I mean, I was thinking maybe it'd be fine if I didn't drive you home, too, but you don't have to get a cab. I'm sure if I asked, my mum would be fine with you just staying the night or something."

You blink in surprise, but smile at the suggestion. "Oh. Well, I'd hate to bud in-"

He smiles. "You're family, Y/n. Don't worry." He takes your hand, tugging you back towards the dining room, calling, "Mum! Would it be fine if Y/n just stayed the night? We've both had a long day!"

"Oh, of course, honey! Tell her she can make herself just all nice and comfy and at home! Y/n's such a sweetheart, anyways. She's always welcome!"

Oscar smiles, looking at you. "You heard that, right?"

You smile back up at him with a little laugh. "Yeah, I heard that."

He nods, saying, "C'mon, let's go to my room."

The two of you head there, both of you knowing the way to Oscar's childhood bedroom from all the years you used to spend in there together. When you walk in, seeing all the dressers in the same place they always were, and all Oscar's old decorations from his karting days, memories seem to flood back, just like that, and both you and Oscar feel it. You crawl onto his bed, just like you always used to do, flopping down against his pillows, making yourself at home.

Oscar smiles and crawls in next to you. Just like he always used to do, too. "Last time we were both here was..."

"...right after you joined McLaren, right?" you smile at the memory.

"I guess so." He smiles down at you.

"I remember distinctly, one time, you had been gone so, so long, and I asked your mum if I could surprise you when you got home..."

Oscar starts laughing, clearly remembering it to. "Ohhh yeah. I threw open the bedroom door and flopped on my bed, even though you were on it. By the time I saw you and yelped, it was too late."

"Yeah, and I wrapped my arms around you and started tickling you," you say giggling.

He rolls his eyes, grinning. "I remember. By the end of it, I was gasping and near tears. God, Y/n, you know I was tired."

"I know. But I made you laugh and smile, didn't I? And I made you feel better, didn't I?"

"I mean, I was just happy to see you," he says, his gaze comfortably resting on yours.

"I was happy to see you. Do you know how much I missed you those months?"

"You miss me if you don't see me for a week, Y/n, still."

"Why do you think I come to every race that I can?"

"Because I pay for you to?"

You roll your eyes at that, crossing your arms, "I mean, yeah, but that's not the sentiment I was going for!"

He laughs, giving your shoulder a little playful tap. "I know, I know."

You sigh deeply, the sweet silence settling between the two of your for a little while, before murmuring, "And I hope you remember after that tickle attack, when your face was red and you were nearly crying from laughing, I gave you the biggest hug of all time..."

Oscar's face warms at that as he leans a bit closer to you. "Yeah... Yeah, I remember. You wanna know why that moment was special to me?"

"Why?"

"Because that was the moment I realized that there are some people in my life that never truly will leave me. Even if I leave them. And you're one of the best of them. That was when I learned what family is."

You nod slowly, thinking about that for a few moments, before saying, "That's... so sweet. I like it."

Oscar smiles. "Me, too. I like it too. I'm so lucky to have a best friend like you."

"And I so lucky to have a best friend like you."

Oscar smiles at that, nodding, satisfied, before letting out a big yawn, reminding you if a sleepy cat, before folding his hands up into fists and rubbing his watery eyes.

And, as if it's contagious, you let your own yawn, a few moments later.

Oscar smiles, this time more sleepily at you, before slipping his arm over your shoulders and pulling you a little closer to himself. You flop your head to lean against his shoulder, and murmur, "Time for us both to get the much-needed rest our bodies are begging us for?"

"Mmm-hm. Yeah. Whatever you said," Oscar murmurs as he drifts off, the hint of a smile still lingering on his mostly relaxed face.

And you both drift off, surrounded by that perfect warmth and tranquility that feels just like home.

A little under a week later, you're sleeping against Oscar in a very similar position, feeling like you're just as at home in China than you are in Australia, simply because of the person you're resting against, when you're awakened by the painful claims, "I ship it, the mechanics ship it, the other teams' drivers ship it, the fans ship it. My God, even my mum ships it! Literally everyone can see you're mad in love except you and her!"

You stretch, your eyes fluttering open, and murmur before you're even sure it's Lando's unwanted yapping torturing your ears, "Landooo shut uppp..."

Oscar gives your shoulder a squeeze, groaning to Lando in his perfectly alert awake state (contrary to yours), "Look at that, Lando, you made her wake up!"

"Oh, yeah, 'cause you'd hate for her to stop sleeping against y-"

"Lando, stop, it's not like that."

"How come every time a girl and a guy are friends, everyone ships them? I think that's society's problem," you comment as you rub your tired eyes.

Lando snorts, saying, "It's not every time. You guys are just obvious. And oblivious. You just need to admit it to each other."

"There's nothing to admit to each other, Lando," Oscar comments as he watches you slowly lean off of him, slipping his arm off your shoulders.

"Yeah, we're, like, brother and sister."

"Well, I wouldn't say that-" Oscar begins quickly.

"I mean, yeah, like-"

"We're more like just really close friends," Oscar finishes confidently.

"Yes, that's true, I agree," you say quickly, looking up at him. "We're family, but not brother and sister."

"Ah, so you're family, but it's not like siblings. What else could you be other than mad in love but just too dense to realize it?" Lando asks.

You just glare, crossing your arms, and Oscar comments, "I don't know, but it's not like that."

"Maybe it's just not like that simply because you both refuse to admit what you really want."

"Lando, I don't need you of all people being my psychologist. Could you just leave it?" you comment, feeling Oscar's eyes watching you.

Lando sighs (overdramatically), shrugs, and says, "Suit yourself. I'm just saying, you guys have got to get together soon, or else you'll drive yourselves and everyone else insane. We can all tell you guys just need to kiss already." And with that, he once again struts away.

As soon as he's gone, you whine, leaning your head into Oscar's shoulder, "I hate Lando!"

"Don't say that. He's just kidding," Oscar says gently.

You sigh. "I know... it's just..."

"Hm?" Oscar prompts gently.

"I don't want people thinking something that's not true."

"Who cares what they think? We both know how we feel about each other, and that's all that matters." But do we? Oscar's brain echoes.

"Yeah, you're right," you murmur, nodding, comforted by his words, not even picking up the way he stares forward, eyebrows knitted together, deep in thought.

You've heard what you think you want to hear, and that's all that matters to you.

The moment you see Oscar after his podium, after he stood on the first step, winning such a solid race as that, you run into his arms, causing him to laugh as he hugs you back, saying, "Hey, Y/n."

"I'm so proud of you!" you say excitedly. "Amazing drive- amazing!"

"Thank you, Y/n. It means a lot. I'm so happy you were here to cheer me on."

You grin up at him. "Me, too, Oscar. Me too."

He celebrated with his team after the race, you staying in your hotel, since Oscar promised you he'd like to bring you home with him to Monaco, and have a more low key celebration, without as many people. Besides, you'd like it that way better anyway. And this way, you can get some extra sleep and try to avoid some of the jet lag from the long flight to Monaco.

Now you stand in Oscar's bathroom back in Monaco, gazing at yourself in the mirror in your white crop top and silver skirt, knowing that when you step out of the bathroom, all you need is for Oscar to tell you it looks nice, and then all your worries will vanish.

And once you do, of course, he stands up from the living couch and says, "You look really pretty. Ready to go?"

You smile softly, sighing in relief, and nod. "Yes. I'm ready to go celebrate with the winner of the 2025 Chinese Grand Prix." You laugh a bit, and add as you head out to the car, "Oscar, you know I'm so incredibly proud of you."

He grins. "I know, I know." You know he loves your lavishing, even if he wouldn't admit it. He's never gotten enough of it; you're one of the people that appreciate him the most, you think, at least. You appreciate him a whole lot, anyways.

Soon you get to your destination, and the night starts off really fun, you and Oscar just sticking with each other, laughing, singing, drinking, and dancing. But after too long, the air becomes stale, the noise becomes too loud, and the drinks turn bitter. You're tired, and Oscar's off somewhere, swept away with his other friends. You sigh deeply, leaning against the wall, running a hand through your hair.

It's then that you feel a hand on your shoulder, and it makes you flinch. It's unfamiliar.

It's not Oscar's hand.

You look up to see a man around your age with tangled overgrown curly brown hair and dark, cold eyes. He's wearing a gold chain around his neck and a football jersey. It's then that he shows you his unflattering smirk and says in a thick French accent, "I'm Jordan."

You just kind of nod, showing a fake smile and crossing your arms, not really in the mood for any antics with any strange guys.

His eyebrows raise as he says, "Do you have a name, or am I going to have to give you one?"

Your lip immediately curls up as you look at him from the corner of your eye, still not tilting your face directly towards him. "You're not smooth. My name is Y/n."

"Pretty name for a pretty girl. A sassy girl, too, at that. I like that."

You bite your lip, rolling your eyes in utter annoyance at this guy 'Jordan.' "Good for you..." you murmur, trying to send him the message that you really don't want to talk with him.

Jordan just hums and steps closer to you. You glance up at him for the first time, really, feeling a bit sick from how close he is to you. You murmur awkwardly, "Could you please step away?"

"No, I don't think I will. I'm enjoying your reaction too much."

"Please, stop."

He roughly grabs your chin, forcing you to look him in the eyes. You swallow deeply.

"I really like your skirt..." he purrs, leaning in closer to you, completely ignoring your protests. His hand slips onto your thigh and grips it tightly.

"Stop... I don't care-"

"You don't, don't you? Well, what a shame... I reckon there's not much you can do about that..."

"St-"

He lips meet yours in a nasty, rough kiss. Your head pounds and spins as your knees begin to shake, panic of what's happening sinking in, your thoughts raging with anxious thoughts at the same time as your head being completely empty. You push at his chest, but he pushes his whole body up against yours, pinning you to the wall, further into a shadow.

You gasp, the panic sinking in deeper, and hardly register what happens next.

Oscar's familiar voice in all the chaos says in one of the angriest, coldest tones you've ever heard from his mouth, "Get your fucking nasty hands away from her."

Jordan tears his lips away from your mouth as Oscar grabs him, Jordan turning his head to look behind him, but before he has a chance to react, you watch as a fist comes flying across and hits him square across the face. He stumbles back and as blood begins gushing from his nose. For a moment, his eyes meet yours in shock, as if he expects you to help a dog like him, but it's then that you watch Oscar grab him by the collar and murmur in the darkest of tones to him, "I told you to get your nasty hands away from her, and you didn't. That's my girl, and no one dares to touch her like that. You better not think you can go on like this, and I hope this can be a reminder for you not to." And with that, Oscar throws another punch, hitting the guy in his eye. You slowly slip down the wall, still watching in shock as Oscar finishes him off by handing one more punch to him on his bloody jaw, before letting go of his collar, letting him fall to the floor, finishing with a yell, "The pain you're feeling right now is nothing compared to the pain you deserve!"

You watch as Jordan scampers up and, just like that, without even considering a fight, stumbles off, out of sight.

And then, everything hushed, Oscar turns, and his eyes meet yours. His hair is a little sweaty and messed up, falling over his forehead. For a moment, you see that remaining burning anger, but as soon as he takes you in, that vanishes, and is replace by the familiar warmth he seems to always look at you with.

And the moment your eyes lock, the tears start coming, and you break down.

Oscar is immediately by your side, pulling you into his arms, sitting on the floor next to you and holding you in his lap, gently stroking your hair. After a while, you hiccup, slowly leaning away, your body still shaking, and murmur, mopping up your eyes with your hands, "Os- Oscar... That was scary. I'm scared."

He gently takes your hand. "You don't have to be. I'm here. Are you ready to go home?"

You nod slowly, and Oscar helps you up, leading you out back to his car, his arm around your back protectively the entire time.

Once back in the car, as the events of what just happened replay through your head, you hiccup, more tears threatening to flow. Oscar gently takes your hand, murmuring in the dark of the parked car, "Tell me what I can do for you, and I'll do it. I hope you know I'll do anything for you to feel better."

You sigh shakily and just lean into him. He wraps his arms around you, holding you for a few minutes, before you lean away again and murmur, "Let's just get home..."

Oscar nods. "Good idea." He turns the car on and begins driving, and as soon as he does holds his hand that he's not using to drive out to you. You put your hand in his, letting the warmth from it fill you and comfort you.

As he drives, you suddenly say in the empty silence, "'That's my girl.' That's what you said."

Oscar just nods a little. "I know. I did mean to say that, you know."

You swallow, thinking for a few moments, before murmuring the simple question, "Why?"

"Because you've always been mine and I've always been yours, haven't I?"

You swallow. "I don't know what that means."

"Forget what it means. You're the most important girl- the most important person- to me. You're my girl, and I'm not going to let anyone be messing with you."

That feels right to you, and good to you, to hear that. And you're glad, in a way, that he's so confidently figured that out. It frees you to say back, "Well, yeah, then... I guess that makes you my boy, then..."

Oscar smiles very softly, giving your hand a little squeeze as you arrive at his home. Once you're both inside, before you have a chance to start worrying, Oscar says gently, putting a hand on your shoulder, "I want you to be comfortable. What do you need? I could get you something to eat, run a bath for you, get a change of clothes, all three, whatever else you need-"

"Oh, uh, don't worry about it-"

"Hush," Oscar suddenly interrupts, shaking his head. He moves to stand right in front of you, before gazing down into your eyes, and saying in all sincerity, "Look, I want you to be honest. I want to take care of you if that's what you need. I want you to be comfortable."

You swallow, nodding a bit, before murmuring, "A bath and a change of clothes might be nice... I'm not hungry, though."

Oscar nods, putting his hand on your back, leading you to his room. He opens his closet and says, "You can wear whatever you can find. I'm going to go run that bath for you; I'll call you when it's ready. I'll get a towel for you in the bathroom, too."

You nod, find one of his bigger McLaren T-shirts and a pair of black sweatpants, and head to the bathroom just as Oscar is calling for you.

Oscar smiles at you gently when you walk in and say simply, "Anything else you need?"

You shake your head 'no,' saying, "Thank you."

He nods. "Of course. I'll just be in the living room, you can come there when you're done. Call me if you need anything. And take your time, too."

You smile weakly, nodding. "Alright. Thanks, Osc."

He nods, leaving you to have your bath. You peel off your clothes and sink into the water, feeling its warmth surround you like an embrace. You let out a long sigh of relief as the water touches your sore, tense muscles, soothing them. After the night you've had, it feels good to just be. To just experience something genuinely good and calming, knowing Oscar is just in the next room.

Oscar. The way he stood up for you, was so protective of you, and beyond that, has been taking such good care of you... You know Oscar a good man... He was always a really sweet boy, and he's grown up to be a really very upright and sweet man. It was crazy- crazy- to see him go off on that stranger, and beat him up the way he did.

But somehow, it felt right. It was just proving he's good. That he cares so much about and for you, he won't let anyone hurt you without knowing the consequences of it from him.

How much does he really care about me?

The question almost feels good to ask, because you have a feeling the answer is one you like.

And then the way he so confidently called you his girl.

'That's my girl.'

Just looking back on it, for some reason, it makes your heart skip a beat. It's that chest-tightening nervous affectionate feeling you get often when Oscar does or says little things. Although this time, it's not little, and every new thing he does seems to make your stomach flutter a little more. It's a familiar feeling that you're sure you've gotten hundreds of times before with Oscar, but for some reason, you're only realising it now. Why, you have no idea, and what the strange feelings could mean, you have even less of an idea.

Soon, you finish your bath, and after drying yourself put on Oscar soft, comfortable clothes, no matter how over sized they are on you. Besides, you don't care in the slightest about that as soon as you inhale his familiar, comforting scent when you put them on. You go to the living room and see Oscar laying on the couch on his phone, now in a T-shirt and sweatpants, just relaxing. As soon as you walk in, though, he looks up.

"Osc...? Do you have a brush I could use for my hair?"

He nods, hopping up from the couch, and says, "Yeah, I do. Wait here, I'll be right back. Just get yourself comfy."

He leaves, and you shrug, taking his advice, and curl up on the couch, waiting for him to come back. He takes longer than you expect him to, but soon enough, he walks back in and sits next to you, saying, "Why don't you just relax, and I can brush it for you?"

"Seriously? You don't have to," you say immediately, secretly wanting badly for him to brush your hair for you. You love the feeling of other people playing with your hair- and if it's Oscar, even better.

He smiles at you. "I know, but I want to." And with that, to both of your delight apparently, begins gently brushing through your hair. When he's done, he slowly start running his fingers through it, starting from the bottom and going up to the top. You sigh, leaning back into him, and Oscar just simply loves it. After a while he says, softly amused, "You just seem to melt when my hands are in your hair."

You shrug, smiling a little, and say, "What can I say? It feels really good."

He chuckles that low comforting chuckle that feels just like home. "I can tell." After a few more minutes he says, "I found a hair tie I think you must've left here at one point. Do want me to braid your hair or something?"

You smile, glancing back at him, and say, "You can do that? I don't know if I can trust you."

He just smiles back at you. "You should. I'm good at it. Remember, I grew up with three sisters."

You shrug again before saying, "Well, alright..."

He chuckles softly again, before he gently begins braiding your hair, his fingers gently weaving through your locks, slowly, until he finally finishes and ties it on the end. Once he's finished, you turn around to face him.

He smiles at you.

You smile back, taking his hands in both of yours.

"You're beautiful," he suddenly says, looking right into your eyes. "I don't think I've told you that enough. Because I think it all the time, whenever I look at you."

For some reason, your friend saying that makes you blush. There are a few moments of silence, before you look down at your joined hands and murmur, "Crazy that the hands that beat up that guy are the same hands that just gently braided my hair."

Oscar shrugs, smiling a little. "They have different uses in different moments. And I don't regret what I did for a moment, not any of it. I would do the exact same thing if I had to do it all again. In fact, just thinking about it makes me really angry. But what matters most is that you're okay."

You sigh slowly, nodding, your head a bit dizzy at the thought of it all. "I'm just so thankful for you, throughout it all. You, like, saved the day..." you chuckle wryly.

He shrugs, nodding a bit. "I guess." A little laugh.

More silence.

You stare down once more at your joined hands. "But Oscar..." you begin hesitantly.

"Yes?" he prompts gently.

"...I'm sorry."

"Y/n... for what? You did nothing wrong-!" Oscar begins somewhat incredulously.

"It's just... You were celebrating your win..."

"Oh, Y/n..." Oscar begins, his tone softening. "Come on, now. Look up at me, will you?"

You sigh, doing so.

"It's not your fault, what happened," Oscar says. "It's that idiot's fault, and we both know that. What happened happened, and there was no preventing it. And if you're worried about me, don't be. I had a perfectly good time celebrating in China with my team. This was more that I wanted to do something with you, for you. But look at this right now. Here we are, sitting together, anyway. Isn't that what matters the most anyway; isn't that the point? So why don't we just make the most of this moment, right now, hm?"

You sigh again, nodding slowly, before saying, you heart almost feeling like it's being squeezed, "Okay."

"Hey," Oscar murmurs, his hand touching the bottom of your chin. "You're looking down again. Talk to me." He gently raises your chin.

You swallow, and suddenly, words that you hardly knew you even thought start coming from your mouth, and only now as you hear them in your voice do they even begin to make sense: "I guess it's just that... You're so caring and gentle with me, and protective. And we like each other so much and get along so well and we've known each other for years and... I guess sometimes I wonder about us... You know, our relationship, like, what even is it? I mean, I think we'd both readily admit we most definitely love each other, but I guess... well, I don't know..."

Oscar nods slowly, before whispering, as if it's some long kept secret, "You guess you just wonder in what way we love each other?"

You swallow, nodding. "Well, yes, exactly. Because... well, I don't know."

"Can I tell you how I feel about you?"

You study his face for a few moments- his handsome face- and nod.

"I feel about you the most deep feeling I've ever known, deeper than I ever thought I could experience. The love I have for you is beyond anything I could describe in a physical sense- it's beyond a romantic love or and family love or the strongest kind of named love I could think of. All I know is that when I look at you, I see fulfillment, and happiness. I see everything I've ever needed, plus everything I've ever wanted. I see a priceless jewel- the sort of thing that anyone would honor and protect with their life. I see beauty herself, on the inside and out. I see my best friend, my favorite person, the one I would spend any and every moment with, if I could. I see comfort, I see love. I look at you and know the great lengths I would go for you. I know it's all so cliche, but it is a love beyond words. It is. I just..." he trails off, before leaning in and whispering, "Are you crying?"

You sniff, looking away, your heart pounding. "No..."

He smiles gently, his hand leaving yours to reach up and wipe a tear away off your cheek with his thumb, "Don't cry."

"That's just so... sweet... and... everything I exactly feel, too, put into words..."

"Y/n..." he hums gently with a little chuckle. "I don't want you to cry, though."

"Don't worry," you say with a little hiccupy laugh. "They're good tears."

He smiles a bit, grabbing your hand again and giving it a squeeze. "Okay."

You swallow, before daring to ask, "What would the difference be, if you were my boyfriend instead of my best friend?"

Oscar eyes seem to light slightly at the question, and he says simply, "Nothing at all, except for one thing: we would be able to express that deep love for each other in different ways."

You nod slowly, swallowing.

Oscar leans in closer to you. "How does that sound to you?"

"I... I think it could be just what I need."

Oscar smiles softly. "I mean, I feel like... it would be nice to not just have to use my words to tell you how much I love you. You know, to be able to kiss you, or something, instead."

You find yourself smile a little at the words, nodding as pinkness gets to your cheeks. "Yeah... that doesn't sound so bad."

Oscar smiles, just gazing into your eyes. "Yeah?"

"It's just that... with tonight, with what happened..."

"Oh, I wasn't meaning we had to do anything tonight- just to think about. You know...?"

You nod slowly, before muttering, "But maybe... Just maybe tonight is the night to do it." You pause, before continuing, "You know, with all that happened, maybe if we just decided... tonight, let's just take a little step... it would help me to leave that. You know, it wasn't my fault... and I have someone who really does love me."

Oscar smiles. "And I really do."

You smile back, looking back up into his sweet brown eyes.

He slips his hand out of yours and gently brings it to your cheek, muttering, "Well, is it okay if I kiss you? Just a little kiss?"

You smile wider, feeling your stomach flutter at the sincere question. Nodding, you reply, "Yes, I reckon that is okay."

Oscar nods, his thumb stroking your cheek a bit as he leans in, his other hand gently touching your waist. His hand on your cheek shifts to cup the side of your neck, and he whispers, his warm breath on your ear, "You still okay?"

You nod.

And with that, he leans in, and, pulling you closer to himself, kisses you in the most perfect way. His adoration and love for you flows through the kiss, while still keeping it short and gentle. When he leans away, he whispers, "How was that?" with a little adorable smile.

You just sigh shakily and murmur, "I think you should do it again."

And he does without a second more of hesitation. His lips meet yours as he pulls your body closer to himself, lost in the kiss, lost in his emotions. When he pulls away again, he's pulled you onto his lap, but neither of you seem to care, both too swept up in each other's gazing eyes.

"I didn't realize for how long I needed to do that..." he whispers gently.

You smile a little. "I didn't realize how long I needed that from you."

He smiles back. "We'll call that both of our first kisses, okay?"

You nod. "Does this mean I'm your girlfriend now?"

"I like the sound of that."

You smile and throw your arms around him in an embrace. He pulls you closer to him, leaning back so that you can lay your head on him, and rubs your back, whispering, "I love you so much, Y/n. So, so much. To the moon and the stars and all the way back."

You smile up at him. "I don't know about the moon and the stars for me Oscar, but I'll tell you this: I love you enough to want to spend my life with you. I love you enough to want to grow old with you."

At those words, Oscar's arms tighten around you, and he chuckles, "See how sappy we suddenly get as soon as we decide to just give it up and kiss? My God."

You grin into his chest. "Yeahhh... But I don't mind it."

"Oh, trust me, I don't either." He shifts, moving you with him, making you both comfortable, so that you're laying together, cuddling.

"I really like this."

He hums. "Me too."

"You know we'll never hear the end of it from Lando if he finds out."

You feel the vibration of his laugh in his chest. "I guess we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. For now, let's just relax. I just want to be. Be with you."

"I think that sounds like exactly what I was made for. To be with you."

He smiles, and you shut your eyes, content to listen to his heartbeat and just be.

Just be with him.

[ravens-two]

PAC: How will your relationship with your FS be like?

This reading includes:

insights into your relationship with your FS

The extended reading includes:

your sex life with your future spouse

how you'll meet your future spouse

Disclaimer: this is just for entertainment purposes, and as a pick-a-card reading it may not resonate for everyone. Also, this content is 18+ only!

TIPS | BOOK A READING WITH ME | PATREON | LINKTREE | SUGGEST A PAC TOPIC

Pile 1

Page of Swords, Seven of Pentacles, Two of Wands

I was just the chip on your tooth/ And I liked being that/ I was just the me to your you/ And I liked being that - Curl up & Die by Matt Maltese

Pile 1, your relationship with your spouse is filled with devotion as we can see from your song, but also filled with excitement. You and your FS are always on your way to do something, to try something, to pursue something. Immediately I can see that you and your FS always support each other when it comes to your goals. Your person always does their best to make your life a little easier so that you can pursue some goal or project. They don't feel jealous or hold resentment, in fact, they want to be your biggest supporters.

I also think that you'll be traveling a lot as a couple, both on vacation and also probably because of work. I get the sense that you're both very ambitious people so you might have a career that requires traveling from time to time. The other thing I'm seeing is that the communication between you two is just excellent. I get the vibe that you talk a lot in general (or actually one of you might talk a lot and the other not as much, but the other loves listening). You have long conversations about everything and nothing, the last movie you watched together, the neighbor who just moved across the street, your takes on spirituality, or the current state of the world. The point here is that you two talk a lot and for a long time just because you enjoy each other's company.

Another thing about your communication is that you rarely fight because you can talk and resolve your problems before a fight can arise. Even just simple communication like organizing your life and things like that (like let's meet at x place at y hour) works very well. Also, you're both very good with helping your partner come up with a solution for a problem (I feel like your partner immediately jumps to this whenever you're down or having some sort of problem). Sometimes it might not be appreciated but your FS just loves you so much and they don't want you to have to struggle with anything really.

When it comes to your life as a couple I think that you have a set routine that you always follow, while holding space for surprises to emerge. Let me try to come up with an example. For example, you might have the habit of going out every Saturday afternoon and always keep that time free for this, but you don't often plan what you'll do. It's just the spontaneous thing that came up that week. But besides this I see you having a very cozy routine and doing mundane tasks together, like cleaning the house or tending your garden. It's the little things that bring you together. In fact, I want to say that one of the most important love languages in this relationship is actually quality time. You might not be doing the same thing but you like doing them in the same space so that you can feel close to each other.

With this Two of Wands here I also have to say that this is a very passionate relationship, especially coming from your FS. They adore touching and kissing you, the type of partner who will smack your ass every time you cross paths, for example. You two just really enjoy touching and cuddling a lot. It might not even be full on cuddling, but you love just laying on the couch and just hold hands, or play with the other's hair or their leg or their foot. It's not even anything sexual about this (although it is sometimes), but you both just feel the need to touch the other.

check out the extended reading here

Pile 2

Eight of Cups, Three of Pentacles, Five of Wands

Feels like I've known you my whole life/ I can see right through your lies/ I don't know where we're goin'/ But I'd like to be by your side - Are You Bored Yet? by Wallows ft. Clairo

Pile 2, for some reason I think that you might work with your FS or if you don't work with them, it might be that you have the same job because you end up competing a lot with each other. This is something more specific just for some people so feel free to ignore if you feel like it doesn't apply. However, this energy of competition and playfulness is very present in your relationship with your partner. I get the vibe that you both love to lie to each other for fun, lol. Maybe things like they ask you where you've been and you say that you were with your lover or something like that. You're both just so secure in your relationship that you don't have any problems with joking about these things. Also, going back to the competition energy, I feel like this applies to when you're playing together (like playstation or boardgames), but also even the simplest of situations. Like your partner will try to rile you up because yesterday they did the dishes faster than you, or something silly like that.

A bit similar to pile 1, your relationship with your spouse is marked by how supportive you two are of each other. You act as a team and you don't let problems or other people get in between you two. With the Eight of Cups here too, there's almost this sense that you two are an island away from everyone else. You don't need anything but each other and you'll always stand up for each other. I'm sensing that when it comes to any family conflicts (with your parents or your in-laws or anything like that) you and your person will always stick up for each other even if you're the ones wrong in this situation. You might compete with each other, you might act silly, but in this relationship you're the most important thing for your partner. You always come first, no matter what.

In pile 1 I didn't really see anything about family, but in yours I do see children (feel free to ignore if you feel like this doesn't apply to you). But if you do want to have children in the future, there's three kids here in the cards, they seem quite close in age so it seems very planned. The kids seem to be a big part of your life (obviously) and you and your partner tackled them together as a united front. You don't undermine each other and you agree on the important things - like the type of values and education you want to give your children. As parents I also see you two being very fun with the children and trying to give them as much unique experiences as possible. They certainly adore you both.

When it comes to routine you seem to organize things well in advance and try to split household chores efficiently. I get the vibe that you two are a bit peculiar about your space so you try to keep it clean and organized as much as possible. I also see your partner surprising you with small gifts every once in a while - like little trinkets or a flower bouquet. No matter what it is it's just because your partner so that thing and suddenly thought of you. I think that your partner tries to be as romantic as possible, but sometimes daily life doesn't make it very easy (you two seem to be very busy people).

Despite this you two always make an effort to have a couple of dates every month, a moment you can have just for the two of you and to nurture the love you have for each other. For your partner in particular, I think that romance is very important. They don't seem to be very touchy, especially in front of other people, but they do enjoy putting their hand on your waist or your back. I think that your partner prefers to give you small (or big) gifts and to do things for you. Daily life can be so busy and exhausting that your FS knows that one of the best things they can do for you is make sure that you don't have to do some extra task.

check out the extended reading here

Pile 3

Knight of Swords, Page of Pentacles, Strength

You come back, I'll be right here/ Like a barge at sea/ In the storm, I stay clear/ 'Cause I've got my mind on you - Say Yes to Heaven by Lana del Rey

Pile 3 the first thing that I'm picking up is that your FS is a romantic at heart, think those old Hollywood movies gentleman type. Your spouse is absolutely and completely devoted to you. They adore you and don't want you to worry about a single thing; if a problem comes up they try their best to solve it before it even reaches your ears. To them you're a goddamn work of art. To your spouse they might as well display you on the Louvre because you deserve to be admired.

I'm also getting this vibe that you're a bit stubborn and tend to try and get your way in most things. Your FS knows this and they know that fighting you is useless because you'll always win, so instead they understand that they need to either agree or steer you gently in the "right" direction. I don't really see arguing in this relationship, especially from your person's side. You're far too precious to them for them to be arguing and screaming. Absolutely not. Any issues need to be solved in a civil and productive way.

Something else that I'm picking up is that you tend to withdraw, either when you feel down/after a conflict or you have periods of withdrawal. Your FS may feel a little sad and desperately want you to talk to them, but they understand that you need this space so they're really good at providing it for you. It's literally like your song says when you come back they'll be right there waiting for you with open arms. The main thing I'm getting honestly is that your person wants to be your rock.

If you like animals I think that you might have a lot of pets, especially cats and dogs, but I'm even seeing other types of animals like lizards, bunnies or even horses (this will certainly apply differently to everyone). You and your partner love your pets very much and they're an important part of your life, even if you have kids, the pets are still really important. If you have dogs for example, I see you two taking a long walk every Sunday and just spend time in nature with your spouse, the dogs and the kids. You're both very doting both on the pets and the kids and they are a very important part of your life and your routine. You like doing things in family and you don't feel like the kids or the pets are intruding in your relationship as a couple.

For some of you, I think that either you or your partner either works from home or stays at home. There's just this big emphasis on the home and how it's a cozy space for you, I just heard that it's your nest. When it comes to children I don't really feel like you want to have a lot of kids, maybe one or two. What you do want is to be a good parent. Like, you'd rather not have kids at all or have only one child rather than being a bad parent. You're certainly only going to have kids when you both feel like you're ready for it.

check out the extended reading here

Pile 4

The Fool, Three of Swords, Nine of Pentacles

I don't need a sign, what will, be will be/ Let's go start a life, somewhere in the weeds/ I am usually able, but your effect is fatal/ I was doing fine, then I met you - Intolewd by Matt Maltese

Pile 4, the first thing I'm seeing is that a lot of people will be jealous of your marriage. It might be because your relationship with your partner seems to be in a perpetual honeymoon phase, it might be because your partner is so good looking or because your partner makes a lot of money. Whatever it is people are very jealous of it, because they look at it and it's the type of thing they dream about. With that in mind, I think that you and your partner live quite a lavish and comfortable life. You take nice vacations, you go out, you can buy nice things, and you have a really nice home. The specific vibe I'm getting is of a very stylish and artistic house, but that might be a vibe for just some of you. The main takeaway is that you live well because both you and your partner work for it.

Despite all these eyes on you, you and your partner don't really care about any of that. You have eyes for each other and that's that. Sure, you like showing each other off and you might get off on other's jealousy a little bit, but at the end of the day you're both very aware that the relationship is between the two of you and no one else.

Your FS has a really big energy. They seem like the type of person that immediately gets everyone's attention because they're high-energy, they talk loudly, they laugh a lot. I actually think that one of the first things that attracted you to your FS was their sense of humor, the fact that they just made you laugh and laugh and laugh. Even when things are at their worst you know that your partner will just come up with the most out there joke that instantly breaks the tension and allows you to think about things a little more calmly.

Ohh, actually, the vibe that just came to me was a bit of Gomez Addams from the Addams family in the sense that your FS does everything he can to make you happy. He would fight against a thousand enemies to make you laugh. Your partner absolutely adores you laughter, by the way. In your free time I think that you love going out to museums or historical places. You both seem to love learning and have a great appreciation for art, architecture and culture. I get the feeling that your partner might be an artist or work in the arts.

I think that your FS is also a little prone to having "bouts of melancholy" as they might humorously put it. They just have days where they're moping around the house, sighing into corners and being afflicted by the human condition. They just need a little bit of patience and understanding when this happens. Afterwards, they go back to being their joyous self. If you do have kids I think that your FS is absolutely the funny parent, like strict but very funny. They treat the kids like they're adults explaining overcomplicated concepts to them without missing a beat. In general though, I don't think that you'll treat your kids in the conventional way. In your view they're little people that don't know anything about the world yet, and you both focus on their education and knowledge most of all.

check out the extended reading here

[laswells-ashtray]

141 + friends (+ enemies lmao) reactions to stepping on a pet?

John wants to kill himself. He steps on Peanut's little paw? Noose, it's the only option. But before he can do that, he's quick to find where she ran off to and lure her back out, holding her to his chest and offering her a soft scratch behind the ear. "I'm sorry, petal. I'm just a clumsy arse, aren't I?"

Ghost releases the loudest, most self-loathing Mancunian "FUCK." you've ever heard. He knows that it won't truly hurt the cat, he knows the little fucker will get over it and he's done a lot worse to actually people. But that stinky rat bastard is his stinky rat bastard who relies on him to survive, and that makes him feel bad. The cat is offered a lot of Dreamies as a forgiveness bribe.

Gaz immediately thinks, "this is it, I'm going to hell" because he just stepped on his mum's cat's paw and she insists that the cat is his sister, so he'll never hear the end of it if he doesn't apologise sufficiently to her. He does, his mother eventually concedes that the cat forgives him, and they move on, but he never quite gets over the fact that his siblings are as follows: an older sister, a younger brother and an eleven-year-old cat.

Soap spends ten minutes trying to lure his cat out from under a table because his boy is skittish and standing on the wee laddie doesnae fuckin help, does it? "C'mere son, a didnae mean it. Yer awright, ye kin be mad at me oot here just stop hidin." He spends the rest of the day cradling the cat like a toddler.

Nikolain would never step on Peanut's tail because he looks for her in literally every room of the flat when he enters it. That's his babygirl, his other babygirl stepped on Peanut's paw and now he's hiding the rope.

Laswell accidentally steps on Boris' paw, and he isn't happy. He hisses at her. "What did you expect? You will stand under my feet whenever you get the chance... Alright, fine. I'm sorry. don't get huffy with me, your mommy will never forgive me. Sarah's still holding the grudge from when I stepped on Dot's tail."

And because you said enemies, I shall include Makarov.

He steps on his cat's rail and regards it with a blank look when it mrrps at him sadly, only to murmur a quiet "Я извиняюсь." in the cat's direction.

Someone sees it and he plants a bullet between their eyes, as soon as he's far away enough that the noise won't hurt his cat's ears.

[slapintoaslimjim]

Can i request best friend katsuki finds out we are dating shoto BUT he has had a crush on us since 1st year of ua (can we be in 2nd year in this?)

Absolutely love love LOVE your fics <33

a/n: oh holy shit a possible tension/angst fic? “everybody gotta die, including me” or wtv cory said because angst WRECKS me but yk what? HELL YEAH! also thank you soooo much for your love and support ! <3

let it happen

now playing: bad religion by Frank Ocean

fem reader is implied ! angst is the only warning 2nd year based so this is post war arc!

Katsuki may have never been the best with words, or displaying his emotions, or even identifying them as a matter of fact, but after the war he knew one thing for sure. He didn’t just like you- no.

He loved you.

Seeing his own classmates battered on the battlefield during the war did more on him mentally than he thought it would. but what really affected him the most was the bloodcurdling scream of his name you let out when his body hit the ground after shigaraki basically destroyed him.

he couldn’t even see anything. he couldn’t hear anything else; but he knew there was a lot of noise. but the last thing he remembered hearing was you. your scream of pure horror.

so if the whole war arc wasn’t already enough mental baggage, why did the universe decide to be so unfair and make his heart feel so much more heavier than it already is?

sure, katsuki pushed you away the first few months at UA, he did with everyone. he was only there to be a hero, didn’t want to mingle with people who he thought were below him. he didn’t think he had time for all of that.

keyword; was. not is.

because quickly, during katsuki’s time as a first year at UA he made friends with his classmates, even rebuilt his friendship with Izuku. but you? you had a mind of your own that you weren’t even aware about. you found a way to sliver into his heart, soften edges around him, and lighten his day a little bit without even noticing it.

but after eavesdropping on a conversation he had no business listening in on, katsuki is tempted the universe is just trying to give him karmic lesson after karmic lesson of some sort.

“but you and todoroki are so cute together!” uraraka, ever the supportive best friend she was, said with an adorable eager smile to you as you talk to her about you and todoroki.

he felt his heart drop to his stomach at those words and suddenly the popsicle he wanted was unappetizing. he started listening in further to your conversation with uraraka subtly from the common room kitchen; forcing himself to look busy before just straight up leaving since he felt the air clawing out of his throat with every passing gushing word you spoke.

your happiness mattered so much to him, but goddamnit he would be lying if he said he didn’t wish it was him you were gushing over instead of todoroki.

you were never his. and he was never yours.

and that fact pained him so terribly much, and affected him more than he wanted to. the one person he finally let his guard down around, opened up to, gone to someone else.

“kats?” your voice cut through his racing thoughts, where he sat on the dorm rooftop watching the sunset; this was your activity, your spot, where the two of you found a routine in debriefing your days while watching the sunset.

and god, katsuki couldn’t ignored you even if he wanted to. and he really and truly wanted to. but his heart spoke before his mind could and he turned towards you.

“yeah?” he replied with his usual softer gruff that he had when he was around you.

you made your way closer to katsuki, sitting beside him as you two usually would do before speaking again. “you’ve been.. distant as of recently. is everything okay?” you ask softly and carefully, not wanting to sound accusatory.

katsuki pulled his gaze away from you with a scoff under his breath. of course you would notice his behavioral changes, you always did. both of you did with each other’s moods.

“s nothin” katsuki replies to you with a head shake and a soft chuckle; the soft chuckle aimed at himself for how pathetic he feels like he’s being right now. “don’t worry about it”

“suki you know you don’t have to hi-“ you didn’t even get a chance to finish before katsuki cut you off.

“y/n.” katsuki starts firmly with a sigh before looking over at you. your soft beautiful features, and worried expression. you have a boyfriend, shoto todoroki even, why were you so worried about him?

“i’ll be fine. just give me time to get over myself” katsuki speaks softly, barely above a whisper. you’ve never seen him like this before, so distant and obviously mentally battling something.

you let his words simmer in the air for a moment, resting your head on his shoulder. katsuki mentally debates the want to push you away or get up and move away for the sake of his own sanity, his own stability, and maybe the hurt won’t be so bad anymore. but he doesn’t. he lets your head rest on his shoulder, wrapping an arm around your shoulder like he usually does. it felt so natural, so normal for him to do.

“i’m not going anywhere, and im here whenever your ready to talk” you spoke softly, looking out at the sunset in the distance as katsuki rests his head against yours.

he inhales softly “i know” he says. and lets himself believe it. that no matter what; your relationship status, or the uncomfortable and painful emptiness that only you could fill in him, that you aren’t going anywhere.

a/n: hiya! this ruined me so i had to end it on at least a sort of bright light. there might be a possible part 2 depending on what people think of this and if i get another ask/comment on how i should write it!

[writtendaydreamm]

Allergies and Accidents

Summary: Y/n and Langdon's son has an allergic reaction at school and is rushed to the ER

Author's note: There are not enough Langdon fics on here so I tried my hand at it with this little scenario that came to mind. I have no medical knowledge so please don't expect accuracy with the medical details lol but I tried my best with ChatGPT.

1:03 PM

McKay noticed Y/n immediately. Familiar faces are always the easiest to spot here - they’re the ones you never want to see. She came through the entrance frantic and pale faced, trying to squeeze through the mess of people packed into that waiting room tighter than sardines in a can.

“Alright guys, do a round and make sure no one’s dying before they get into a bed,” McKay instructed the row of interns following behind her like little ducklings.

Making a beeline to y/n, she eyed her up and down assessing for any possible injuries. No visible cuts or wounds. No signs of trauma or pain. Other than the obvious fact the poor girl was about to have a full blown panic attack, she looked fine. 

“Cass! Oh thank god,” Y/n exclaimed, grabbing onto McKay earnestly. She had a vice grip and was not letting go until she got some answers. 

“What’s going on, are you alright? What are you doing here?” 

“It’s not me,” Y/n said, holding back a sob. “It’s Theo.”

12:31 PM

Typing up his report on the college kid with pancreatitis in South 12, Robby settled into a chair. He thought to himself it must’ve been his lucky day. He barely got a chance to use the restroom let alone a chance to sit down. It was almost unheard of. 

The thought alone must’ve jinxed him as Dana called out for him the second he got comfortable. He gave her a tired look over his glasses thinking, what now. 

“EMS rolling in with a 6 year old male. Anaphylaxis. Low BP, dropping O2.”

“ETA?”

As if on cue the automatic doors slid open for two first responders wheeling in a young boy. He was wheezing, gasping for air. Jumping into action, Robby, Perlah, along with 2 interns opened up a room as the EMS gave their report. 

“Six year old male, Theo Langdon. Severe anaphylaxis, failed EpiPen at school.”

The name caught Robby off guard. No, it couldn’t be. Eyes dropping down to get a better look at the boy as they transferred him from the stretcher onto the bed, Robby’s jaw went slack. Perlah who had come to the same realization looked at him wide-eyed in shock. 

“Alright, we’ll take it from here, thanks guys,” Robby dismissed the responders before addressing their new patient. 

“Hey bud, it’s Dr. Robby. I know you're struggling right now, but we’ve got you, okay.” Pressing his fingers along the boy’s throat assessing the swelling and looking for signs of a possible tracheal deviation. No deviation yet which was good, no need for immediate intubation. Using his stethoscope against Theo’s chest and throat, he listened closely for stridor and absent breath sounds. “Get him on continuous pulse ox, full cardiac monitoring. O2 status?”

“88% on 15L non-rebreather,” Perlah replied, adjusting the mask on the boy’s face. 

“I do not want to intubate if possible, but if it drops below 85%, we have no choice. Get RSI meds ready in case we lose the airway.” 

Pointing at one of the interns, Whitaker, Robby ordered him to step out, find Dr. Langdon and keep him away from this room by any means necessary. The intern hesitated, clearly confused by the request, and honestly a bit offended that he was the one to be sent off over the other intern. Gathering what guts he had, Whitaker spoke up.

“Dr. Robby, I’d really prefer to stay-”

“And I’d prefer that Dr. Langdon not walk in and see his son like this,” Robby countered without a beat. 

A flash of understanding spread across Whitakers face as he rushed out of the room to do as instructed. Robby spared a quick glance out the doors watching the young intern weave his way through the bustle of the ER floor in search of said doctor. No matter how long you’ve been on the job or how much trauma and gore you’ve dealt with, nothing will ever compare to the sickening feeling of seeing a loved one here. And the last thing they needed in this room was another Langdon in distress. 

Wrapping his stethoscope back around his neck, Robby stood up determination setting in. He was not going to let anything happen to Theo. Not in his ER. They needed to open his airways and stabilize him fast.

“Nebulized racemic epinephrine stat.”

12:40 PM

Walking back to the nurses station, Dr. Langdon was feeling quite pleased with himself. 

A woman had been rushed in with a ruptured spleen and internal bleeding after a bad car crash. Distended abdomen, severe blood loss, BP dangerously low and on the decline. She was losing too much blood too fast. She was going to crash. She wouldn’t have made it to the OR if he hadn’t acted as fast as he had to stop the bleeding and relieve the abdominal pressure.

“The peritoneal lavage. The IV vasopressor. That was really quick thinking. I mean you didn’t even hesitate,” Mel thought out loud, joining him at the counter. “I’d never seen that much internal bleeding managed outside the OR before.”

“Yeah?” chucked dryly, “Well, get used to it.”

Only half listening now as Mel rambled on, he pulled out his phone and in an instant whatever high he was on after working on that patient was brought crashing down seeing his notifications.

15 missed calls, all from Y/n.

“Well do you think she’s gonna make it? In the OR I mean?” Mel asked, oblivious to the fact the man beside her was on the verge of mentally spiraling. 

“Um, it's in their hands now,” he answered absently, gesturing over to the OR as he walked off leaving Mel to swallow whatever she was about to say next. 

He didn’t mean to be rude, but whatever Y/n was calling about had to be something urgent. 15 missed calls. She never called him during his shifts. She’d text if she needed to tell him something. But even then sparingly and about little things, like needing to grab eggs and milk on his way home, or to update him that she and the kids got home safe. She never called. Not unless something serious was happening. His mind raced with the worst case scenarios as he paced down the hallway, phone pressed tight against his ear. Maybe she got into an accident again - she was always getting into little accidents and incidents. Or maybe she was having car trouble? But they’d just gotten both their cars serviced and paid a pretty penny for it too. Was it the kids? God he hoped it wasn’t one of the kids. 

“Hello, Frank?”

“Hey baby, sorry I missed your calls. I had this patient crashing and-” 

She didn’t give him any time to finish, cutting straight to the chase. 

“Theo was rushed to the ER.”

12:49

“Vitals,” Langdon demanded, bursting into the room pushing right past Whitaker.

Really? Robby looked at Whitaker who could only shrug apologetically. He had tried his best to keep Langdon away, but the poor intern was no match for the senior resident who just moments ago had threatened to lay him out on the ER floor if he didn’t move out of his way. And Whitaker knew by the look in Langdon’s eyes, he was dead serious. 

“You can’t be in here Langdon,” Robby shook his head, adjusting the ventilator settings, tweaking Theo’s oxygen flow.

“The hell I can’t,” Langdon bit back, moving towards his son. But Whitaker held his arms out, trying to block him from getting any further into the room. 

“I swear if you don’t get your hands off me, you’ll be in a bed next,” Langdon said through gritted teeth.

“Do not threaten my interns,” Robby warned pointedly.

But the words fell on deaf ears as Langdon continued, asking how Theo’s airways are looking? If he’s getting enough steroid coverage. If they checked for biphasic anaphylaxis.

“You’re not his doctor right now,” Robby said, beginning to lose his patience, “You’re his dad. And you need to step out if you can’t control yourself.” 

Langdon threw his head back in frustration. He was both for crying out loud. He was Theo’s dad and a doctor. And he’d be damned if he didn’t use his skills and knowledge to ensure the best treatment for his son. He was about to protest again when suddenly the machine's steady beeping began to go off, the alarms spiking. A cold panic coursed through Langdon’s entire body as that dreaded high pitched beeping filled the room. 

“You need to push fluids faster. He's in distributive shock,” Langdon stressed from the foot of the bed watching the monitor show Theo’s BP dropping. 

Robby cursed under his breath, adjusting the IV line. Although there were no rules against having family members in the room while patients were being treated, at times like this Robby really wished there were. Dealing with overbearing parents in the room was one thing, but an overbearing parent that happened to be a doctor as well was another. 

“Fluids are running. Normal saline wide open. We can handle this.”

“He’s not responding fast enough,” Langdon pushed, “If this is progressing into refractory shock, you need to start the pressors now.”

Perlah turned to Robby, “Do you want to escalate to vasopressors?”

“Get the vasopressin push ready, but hold for my call,” he shot a sharp look at Langdon having had enough of him trying to control the room, “Don’t wanna jump the gun. We’re not panicking here.”

“Not panicking? My son could code, and you’re not panicking?”

“That’s it. Out. Now,” he snapped, raising his voice to meet Langdon’s.

“No,” he doubled down.

“Then I will have you forcibly removed and written up for insubordination.” 

“Robby, please. That’s my son,” Langdon pleaded, running his hands through his hair, trying not to get a grip.

“And we’ve got him,” Robby assured. “Now, go. Let us do our jobs. Go.”

With a sharp exhale, and one final look at his son, Langdon turned to leave pulling his phone out to call Y/n. 

1:07 PM

Following McKay through the double doors into the ER, Y/n gripped the strap of her shoulder bag tightly. She was putting on a brave face, but the worry in her chest grew heavier and heavier with each step. McKay tried her best to soothe the poor mother, but being a mother herself, she knew there was nothing she could possibly say to make Y/n feel any better about this situation. 

Langdon, who had been pacing outside of Theo’s room, closed the distance between them the moment he saw her. Without a word, he wrapped his arms around her into a tight hug. Y/n let out a deep sigh, melting into him. Her heart that had been beating like a jackhammer was calmed by the the comfort of his presence and the warmth of his embrace. Pulling back to take a look at Theo, she couldn’t see a thing. The room’s curtains had been drawn.

“How is he,” she asked looking up at him, brows furrowed tightly together, worry etched across her face

Langdon had never seen her look so helpless before. She’s the strongest woman he knows - juggling a fulltime job of her own all while taking care of the kids and picking up the slack at home whenever he was late or working overtime. Even with her plate piled high, she was always composed, always cool under pressure. But all of that composure and coolness had flown out the car window as she sped from work to the hospital after getting that terrible phone call from their son's school. Before him now she was just a mother, scared and worried sick. 

It was a good thing Y/n hadn’t gotten here any earlier than she had, that she didn’t have to see Theo struggling like Langdon had. Admittedly, he lost himself a bit back in the room seeing Theo like that. He knew looking down at her now he needed to keep it together. He could not give her any reason to stress or worry any more than she already was. Every other day of the week, she was his rock, their family’s rock. For once, he needed to be hers. He took a breath choosing his next words carefully. 

“He’s gonna be alright,” Langdon said, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead. 

She listened as he went on trying his best to assure her of just that, telling her that Robby was taking good care of Theo. That he’s in good hands. That they see kids come through with anaphylaxis all the time. That he'll be okay. And though he sounded confident, Y/n knew him better than that. She had the sense that he was trying to convince her of all that just as much as he was trying to convince himself.

Taking a seat on one of the nearby chairs, Y/n shook her head in confusion. They’d taken every measure they could think of to ensure something like this would never happen. They’d informed his teacher of the allergy, and sent out letters to the parents in his class informing them as well. And even in the case he did consume anything with nuts, they always sent him off with an EpiPen and always ensured that it was still effective. 

“I don’t understand. The school said they’d given him his EpiPen.”

“It’s not foolproof babe,” Langdon sighed, running a hand over his face.

It was unfortunate but true. While potentially life saving, EpiPens are not 100% effective if not properly administered. They could’ve taken it out too early or maybe misfire, he explained. 

“So you’re telling me this was what? Some sort of user error?” Y/n scoffed at the irony. It just goes to show no matter what you do or how prepared you are, you can’t control what happens out there. As hard as you try, you can’t protect your kids from everything. 

“The better question is what idiot parent brought treats for the kids and didn’t bother checking for allergies,” Langdon said, growing upset at the thought. It was clearly stated in their parent handbook, all treats must accommodate any allergies and tolerances. Otherwise, don’t bring any. How stupid, careless, and dangerous. “You know, I bet it was those fucking Fultons. They don’t know how to follow basic instructions.”

About to go off on a tirade about the Fultons - whom he could not stand, for multiple reasons, but most recently because the father had cut Langdon off during morning drop off the other week - when the curtains pulled open.

Y/n stood up moving closer, getting her first look at Theo since she’s been here. He was lying still, eyes closed with an oxygen mask on his face, an IV still in his arm. Langdon placed a hand on her back, in part to comfort her and to ground himself, as a wave of relief washed over him seeing Theo stable and out of critical danger. 

Robby stepped out to speak to them. He and Langdon locked eyes, a silent understanding passing between them. Any of the tension they had in that room was eased and forgotten. As a father of sorts himself, Robby knew where Langdon was coming from. 

“Is he okay? Is he awake? Can he talk?” Y/n asked, the words just flowing out of her mouth as Langdon’s rubbed her back. 

“He’s okay. He’s breathing on his own now, still on oxygen, but his vitals are holding steady” Robby assured her, before turning to Landon who looked at him expectantly, “His airway swelling has gone down significantly. No sign of biphasic reaction-”

“Residual bronchospasm? Signs of delayed reaction?” Langond interjected before he could even finish. Robby shook his head, more amused than annoyed. 

“This thoroughness,” Robby said sarcastically, patting Langdon’s chest with the clipboard teasingly, “is why he’s one of my best residents.”

The pair chuckled, both knowing full well how Langdon can be sometimes. Robby went on, letting them know that they’re keeping a close eye on Theo, watching out for any secondary complications. His lungs sound clear and O2 are improving but they’re keeping him in the PICU overnight to make sure he’s in the clear. 

“Can we see him now?” Y/n asked.

“Yeah. Of course. He’s still under some sedation, but should be up soon,” he told her, gently guiding her into the room.

1:30 PM

Theo had come-to for a little, just enough for Y/n and Langdon to let him know he's okay now, that they’re here with him, before his heavy lids closed again, falling back asleep. His little body surely exhausted after all it had just gone through. 

Sat on either side of their son, Y/n and Langdon watched over him quietly. His gaze wandering over to his wife, he could see the toll this had taken on her. It was the middle of the day but her eyes looked worn, and hollowed like she'd pulled an all-nighter. And her lips, that were always smiling and laughing, were pressed into a tight frown. Her brows knit together so tight, the 11 lines on her forehead looked more like 1,111. The stress of your loved one being in the ER will do that to you. Weigh you down, wear you out, and age you a year in an hour. He sees it all the time. But he hated seeing it on his wife.

“He takes after you y’know,” Langdon started. 

She perked up a bit at the sweet sentiment thinking maybe he was referring to their physical resemblance, or maybe the similarities in their personalities, or the little quirks Theo picked up from her. But when he said that she and Theo were both accident-prone, her mouth fell open at the jab.

“That’s not funny Frank,” Y/n rolled her eyes, chastising him.

“Oh come on, it's a little funny,” Langdon continued to joke, seeing her straight face start to crack. “I mean, god forbid, but if I'm not wrong Theo only needs one more ER visit to tie with you.”

She hated that he was making light of such a thing, but what she hated more was the smile she was fighting to hold in. She shook her head trying to fight back her own laugh but just couldn’t do it, not once she heard his. It felt good to laugh, even if it was hushed and contained as they tried not to wake Theo. She needed this. He needed it too. They both needed something to lighten the mood, to let out the long breath they’d both been holding in. 

“No but seriously, take that back. Theo and I are not accident-prone,” she pointed out as their laughter died down. 

Langdon nodded, agreeing that it wasn’t right to say Theo was accident-prone. His visits to the ER were never his fault. The first time was when he was just a baby for a fever that wouldn't go down. The next was a couple years later when he was a toddler for an allergic reaction as they hadn’t yet figured out he was allergic to certain types of nuts. And today, well, he wound up here thanks to some other kid’s parents' negligent disregard for the health and safety of all the kids in Theo’s 1st grade class.

Y/n, on the other hand, she definitely was. 

“I am not,” she fought back, arms crossed, unwilling to admit to this.

“Babe, really?” Langdon asked, brows raised.

“Maybe I’m a little clumsy,” Y/n admitted reluctantly, “But I wouldn’t say accident-prone.”

Langdon scoffed. “Y/n, we literally met in the ER because you were in an accident.” 

It was his third year of med school doing his rotation in Emergency Medicine. At this point he had already intended on pursuing Emergency Medicine and all of the hands-on experience he was getting only solidified that. It was the end of his shift but two buses had just come through - one from a car crash with two non critical patients and the other a factory worker coming in after a gruesome work related accident. Of course, he’d decided to stay hoping to get in on the much more exciting case with the factory worker. But by fate or dumb luck, whatever you wanted to call it, he wound up with Y/n’s case instead - cue their meet-cute. 

“Then 4 weeks after that you ended up in the ER again,” he added now counting on his fingers for dramatic effect. “Then there was the time you fell trying that new-”

She interjected with "ah," holding up a hand to stop him from going any further. She did not need to be reminded of that particularly embarrassing incident he was about to bring up. She got the point.

“But hey, if you didn’t get into those accidents we never would’ve met. Never would’ve dated, got married, had our kids,” he said genuinely, his voice softening as he brushed a gentle hand over Theo’s head. 

With fond memories of their time together, of how they ended up where they are now playing through both their heads, the air in the room felt lighter and so did the weight on their shoulders. A comfortable silence filled the room and for a moment, everything seemed to settle down when Y/n gasped suddenly.

“Shit, what time is it,” she asked, rummaging through her purse.

Jolted by her sudden outburst, Langdon hurriedly pulled out his phone for the time. 1:42.

Y/n let out a groan. She'd been in such a panic when she arrived, she couldn’t be bothered to waste another minute in the hospital’s parking structure going aisle to aisle hunting for a parking spot. So instead she haphazardly parked in the 30-minute parking stall for pick-ups and drop-offs. Y/n moved to get up but Langdon said he’ll take care of it. 

“Are you sure,” Y/n asked, as he took the keys from her hands. Truthfully, she was glad he offered, not wanting to leave Theo's side just yet in case he woke up again.

“Yeah, you stay. Need some fresh air anyway," he said massaging her shoulders for a second, before leaning down to joke into her ear, "Besides, all this talk of you getting into accidents, I don’t really feel like letting you get behind the wheel right now."

"Asshole," Y/n muttered, shoving him away playfully but not before he could press a sweet kiss against the side of her head. 

Watching as he left, she chuckled to herself. Maybe being accident-prone had its perks.  

[cybxrcvnt]

18+

Content Warning: Smut, PinV, Virgin!Daryl, Insecure!Daryl, Female!Reader, Unprotected sex (wrap it people), Reader gets bent over Daryl’s bike 😋, brief use of pet names including little dove, Angel, pretty girl.

Authors note: Guys please, I can’t stop thinking about this photo and scene. This got so out of hand. Genuinely this wasn’t supposed to start as Virgin!Daryl but this story wrote itself istg. I think I blacked out. But virgin Daryl is so special to me. I need to teach this man everything and then some.

Please HMO for a minute.

We all know Older!Daryl wouldn’t risk y’all having sex in the woods or really anywhere outside the house or walls of the community, it’s too dangerous with all the walkers and god forbid some psychos stumble across you. But Younger!Daryl is definitely less responsible. I’m talking Quarry or even Farm era, before the group runs into bad people and realises how fucked up people can get after the world ends. Plus we all know Norman played Daryl like he was a virgin, y’all need to remember that cause I’ve NEVER stopped thinking about it.

Daryl’s never been in a relationship before, and he has no idea why reader even bothers talking to him, let alone dates him. But after a solid month of flirting he finally believed you enough to date you. It’s not that he was hesitant, just skeptical. :(

Everything he knows about sex is from what Merle has told him and porno’s, but he refuses to believe any woman that’s been with Merle has actually enjoyed their time, so he doesn’t take his brothers ‘tips’ into consideration at all. Specifically when he said “Women love it when ya throw yerself at ‘em”, because he’s watched Merle get kicked out by security and pepper sprayed one to many times to believe that for even a second.

So when you came along, he never made the first move, always letting you come to him, maybe the occasional hand on you lower back or brush of your fingers but that’s about it. It was sweet at first, and it’s only been 2 or 3 weeks since you started dating, but you’re starting to crave his touch. It doesn’t help that when you try to initiate sex he blows you off with a muttered “ya gotta go’n a run tomorrow” or any other reason you should go to sleep instead.

Last night you finally spoke to him about it, refusing to let him leave the tent until he answers you. The last thing you want to do is make him uncomfortable, and if he simply doesn’t want to have sex with you, you’ll stop initiating until he’s ready. When you told him that, he looked at you in sheer shock, not surprised shock, but a “that’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard” shock.

“S’not that I don’t wanna, trust me, jus’ don’t want ya to think ya have to”

You talked for a bit longer, eventually he begrudgingly told you he’d never had sex before, which took you by surprise because how could a man like him not have been around the block. After that he quickly shut the conversation down, he was obviously embarrassed despite trying to hide the fact, so you let him and quickly fell asleep. But you got what you needed from it already.

The next morning you’re both going on a run, you’re sitting behind him with your arms around his torso, typical backpack stuff. The town you’re going to is a bit farther away than the group would usually go, about a 20 minute drive with no traffic and a throttle heavy redneck driving. Your head is resting against the back of his shoulder lost in thought about last nights conversation, then fading to something a little less pg. thoughts of hands travelling, clothes being shed, and lingering kisses.

Your thumb starts rubbing absent minded circles on Daryl’s stomach, a kiss pressed to his trapezius, then another above that, and another, the last just under his ear. His head turns to the side to try and look back at you briefly before focusing back on the road. You felt his body tense with each kiss, then again when you hands start moving from his stomach to his sides, slowly but firmly. You trail your hands down his thighs, then back to his torso, repeating until his body relaxes again. Your hands move from his front to his back, trailing up his spine and over his shoulders, massaging at the knots caused by his crossbow. It’s only when your hands travel south that he’s tensing up again, electricity shooting through him as your hand travel closer and closer to the ever growing tent in his jeans.

Your hands stop just inches from where he needs you most, lips hovering over his ear asking for permission. You can feel the shaky sigh leave him by the way his back moves under your chest, a nod of his head sends your hands moving immediately. Your fingers ghost over his lap, testing the waters, then wrap around his jeans softly, giving a small squeeze. The bike slowly drifts into the other lane though quickly corrected and it doesn’t take long for the bike to slow down and eventually come to a stop in the middle of the desolate road. Daryl practically falls off the bike once it’s parked, you go to get off too but don’t get past putting both your legs over to one side before Daryl’s hand are on your hips and his lips are on yours. You can’t help the gasp the escapes you, shocked by the boldness of the usually diffident man (when it comes to intimacy).

He steps between your knees until his chest is flush with yours, one of his arms snakes around your back to make sure you don’t fall while the other cups one side of your face. He usually lets you take control of the kiss but he wastes no time deepening it himself, the newfound dominance over this aspect of your relationship has your legs weak. You’ve never been more thankful to be sitting down in your life. Your legs wrap around his waist to pull him flush to you, his hand resting just above your ass tightens as he rolls his hips against you, swallowing the surprised moan that leaves immediately after. You break the kiss long enough to say,

“Who are you and what have you done with my Daryl?”

You tease, a smile playing on your lips before pushing him back and stepping off the bike, turning him around and starting to sink to your knees, but he grabs your arm,

“ ‘Nother time, need ya now”

5 simple words have you nearly buckling at the knees, he pulls you to stand back up and kisses over your neck, rushed and needy as his hands shakily explore your back and sides. Your hands wrap around his shirt and go to pull it over his head but he stops you, pulling away from your neck and looking in your eyes with a look you’ve never seen before, one you didn’t even think he was capable of until now. He doesn’t have to say anything before your letting his shirt go and kissing his cheek, bringing his hands to the hem of your own shirt. You don’t press the subject matter and he’s thankful for that, pulling your shirt over your head and laying it carefully over the bike handles so it doesn’t fall to the dirty road beneath you, the small gesture has your heart fluttering, but you don’t have much time to think it over before his hands are trailing down your bare torso and down to your ass, groping them while eyeing your tits before he speaks,

“Dunno what m’doin”

He admits nervously, it makes you smile how sweet he can be even with his hard on pressing into your stomach. You can feel his hands shaking slightly against your skin.

“Can’t do much with our pants on”

I joke, hoping it’ll make him less nervous and it does, a small chuckle leaving his lips and a playful slap to your ass before his hands are trailing to your front.

“Smartass”

He rasps, lips hovering over your shoulder as he works on your pants, watching you pull them and your panties down over the plush of your ass.

“Y’gotta use your hands first or else it’s gonna hurt”

“M’not that stupid”

He says, making you laugh softly, but it’s short lived when he pushes you to lean against his bike, his hand cupping between your legs. You can’t help the gasp that leaves you at the suddenness of the touch, though you’re not complaining, and you certainly can’t blame the 40 year old virgin for being a bit excited.

Two of his fingers slip between your folds, gathering your slick before flicking his fingers over your clit haphazardly. You wrap a gentle hand around his wrist and guide him slightly further up until he’s in the right place, he watches your head lul back slightly and the quiet moan that leaves your lips. He’s torn between watching your face, his hands, or biting at your neck, his eyes never staying in one place for long, flicking over every inch of your skin.

“S’all fer me, huh?”

He growls, voice low and laced with lust, the sound frequency of his voice rumbling through your body and straight to your core. His fingers dip to your entrance, watching your face as he pushes in a finger slowly, looking for any signs of discomfort. Daryl may be a virgin but he’s not stupid, he knows it can hurt if not dealt with properly, but the speed at which he’s going is torturously slow, you buck your hips with a soft whine in hopes he gets the idea and he does, he pistons his finger starting slow but speeding up slightly, though still slow.

“Feels good baby, keep it slow like this but curl ‘em up gently”

He listens intently, curling his finger up tentatively, testing the waters. When your head falls to his shoulder with a breathy groan he can’t fight the smirk that makes its way across his cheeks, watching your face as he continues to move his fingers, finding what you like and repeating, adding a second finger when you get quieter, then a third until he has to stand between your knees to keep them open.

You pull him into a searing kiss, moaning into his mouth while yours hands work on his belt buckle and palm him over his jeans. He sucks in a breath through his teeth at the touch, a groan leaving his lips involuntarily. He pulls his fingers from your core and locks eyes with you while he licks them clean (gif, lord help me). You have to physically restrain from rolling your eyes, the view shooting straight to your centre. His eyes never leave yours, even while he’s unzipping his pants and pulling himself out, landing heavy in his hand and using your left over arousal on his fingers as lube to stroke himself once, twice, before stepping towards you again.

“Y’ok little dove?”

His constant check for consent makes your stomach sick with butterflies. You nod fervently, muttering a “please” and “need it, need you”. It’s all he needs to wrap an arm around your back and push in slowly, he groans deeply as you surround him, warm and wet. It takes everything in him to not cum right then and there.

“So fuckin’ tight, squeezin’ me like a goddamn vice”

Your arms instinctively wrap around his neck, gasping at the stretch and kissing over his neck haphazardly. He stills for a moment until he feels you relax, giving a shallow thrust and watching for your reaction, when he sees no discomfort he pulls back to his tip, pushing in with a sharp thrust. Your head throws back and his lips immediately catch to the skin, but it’s short lived when a squeal leaves your lips and Daryl’s having to hold your body weight up from slipping off the other side of the bike. He situates you on the bike before letting his words run a million miles per second.

“Y’ok? Ya hurt? M’sorry didn’t mean ta’ was jus-“

You cut him off with a short laugh and a kiss, standing from the bike.

“I’m fine Dare”

You say through giggles at his overly worried tone. Your nails rake over his clothed chest softly before you turn around and rest your elbows on the bike seat, looking over your shoulder to look at him. He instantly gets the message and stands behind you, placing a kiss in the middle of your shoulders before sliding back in, a groan rumbling against your skin. He lets you ease up again before he’s repeating his earlier pace but a bit slower, you can already feel him twitch inside you and know he probably won’t last to long. Not that you mind, you expected it. You guide his hand between your legs and his fingers immediately start working your clit. You were already close from him prepping you, and the noises muffled against the skin of your shoulder could get you to the edge alone.

“I ain’t gonna last”

Daryl admits breathily, his hips already losing rhythm and his fingers sloppy. He angles his hips in a way that has your eyes rolling, a desperate moan of his name while your nails dig into the leather of his bike. Your walls tightening has him pulling out with a grunt, his hand leaving your clit and stroking himself for not even a second before he lets out a guttural moan and you feel the warm spurts of his cum paint your ass. He leans forwards over your back to kiss your shoulder, heavy breaths fogging your brain.

“You’re a fuckin Angel”

He breaths into your ear, hand returning to your bundle of nerves

“Need ya to come for me, pretty girl”

His voice is low and raspy, though laced with satisfaction. His fingers are working fast and messy so you place your hand over his and with your own fingers over his, silently show him to move them in small circles. The change has you gasping his name and grabbing at the bike again, his other hand pushes 2 fingers inside you and his lips leave kisses over your back.

“Doin so good fer me, just like that baby”

And that’s all you need to be pushed over the edge, legs shaking and you lean your full weight onto the bike. Daryl hums in approval against your back.

“Just like that, there’s my girl.”

His fingers slip from your core and trail soothingly over your sides and back, his other hand slowing down significantly as he helps you ride out your orgasm, only letting up when your moans raise in pitch and legs try to close around his hand.

When you finally stand from the bike and spin to face him, he places a doting kiss to your lips. A smile creeping up both of your faces.

[waechan]

nct dream's love languages (hyung line)

i was just thinking ab what my love language was and was like...wait this could be cute for my tumblr

fluff! sry if im rusty its been ages

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mark lee - words of affirmation

i thought about this one for a while bc i feel like he could be many things

mark is always busy and at first i thought quality time bc he's such a fun guy to hangout with but i don't think he has much time to spend:(

i finally decided on words of affirmation cause this man is always telling people "잘했어요!" (good job) or "수고했어!!" (you've worked hard) or literally anything else he can think of with a big ass smile on his face

he's so sweet im like awh even just thinking about it

if you were in a relationship w mark i could only imagine he'd be there to talk about anything and everything with you...the deep talks would be so intense but so amazing to have

he'd make you think of life differently, truly

he could also be an acts of service boy as he's always helping his members with things they need, it'd probably be the same for you!

text example: "you did great today babe, i'm so proud of you."

2. renjun huang - acts of service

i feel like in dream renjun gives off such a mom vibe and he's so nurturing and caring to them

i see him always doing things for you, bending down to tie your shoe, holding your things for you, planning on the entire day when the two of you hangout, ordering your food for you

he's such a chivalrous guy and i think he'd be that way as a boyfriend too

he'd be so quick to fight for you too like if someone talked shit about you behind your back he would RUN to beat whoever up omg i swear

could see him being a physical touch boyfie too bc he's always cuddled up with whoevers near him

hand holding when walking, you leaning on his shoulder when you're sitting down, it's the little things for this guy

he's adorbs

he will always always ALWAYS pay for your meals i already know that for a fact. he won't even let you get NEAR the bill

text example: "hi my love, how are you doing today? did you need anything? i'll be right there"

3. jeno lee - quality time

i was looking for pictures of him on pinterest and it honestly just pissed me off

he's so fine it makes me angry lol

i had a feeling he'd be quality time because honestly i feel like it doesn't matter what you do together he'd just want to be with you

he's always so happy and in a good mood and i feel like you being there would make everything a hundred times better for him

i think he'd love going on dates with you and he'd have something different planned everyday

but i also think he'd cherish the moments the two of you would have together just chillin on your own at home...gaming, watching movies, doing work..literally anything

he'd 100% be the most loyal boy in the world

i see him being an acts of service guy too, like lifting things for you or running errands for you...he just wants to make your life as easy as possible!

text example: "what do u wanna do today! i mean we could stay home too...whatever you want i just want to see you:)"

4. haechan lee - quality time

he's a loverboy and i already know he'd want to be around you 247

while jenos more of a calm presence, i feel like haechan is such a huge ball of energy

late night talks and walks, going to the grocery store, anything as long as he's with you

he'd hate being left out of any plans you have with other people...he'd sulk omg it'd be so cuteee

he's also definitely a night owl so i could see him wanting to talk with you until morning comes

i could also see him being physical touch because i mean, come on. have you seen the guy?

he's ALL OVER whoever he's talking to, even if it's in the most subtle ways

if your feeling down i already know he'd try to make you laugh, and treat you like his princess

text example: "soo when are you gonna stop ignoring me and tell me that you love me and you're coming over:) or i could come over!"

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i missed writing this was so funnn

lmk if u guys like it and i'll do a maknae line:) miss all of u and this community so much <3

[sheerfreesia007]

In Sickness & In Health

Pairing: Han Jisung x Reader

Word count: 2,180

Content warnings: Fluff

Summary: Han has always been your best friend ever since you were both little. But when you get sick and need his help getting your class notes and assignments your other friends clue Han into how attractive he is. But what happens when he asks you if you think he’s attractive?

A/N: Divider was created by @bernardsbendystraws, thank you for sharing your dividers with tumblr!

Hey Ji! I’ve got a cold and it’s really kicking my butt. I won’t be in class this week. Can you do me a favor and just let me copy your notes for the week? I’ll get with Iyo to get the notes for my other classes. Thanks Ji. I really appreciate it! That had been your text on Sunday, the two of you had been hanging out the day before and got caught in the rain on the way home. He had worriedly told you that you were probably going to get sick but you had reassured him that you would be okay. And lo and behold, he had been right. After getting your text he had quickly called you gently scolding you that he had been right and that you would get sick because of the rain, but when he heard how scratchy and hoarse your voice sounded he had felt bad about scolding you. So he had quickly told you to rest and try to get better, he’d take care of all of the notes for you and make sure you got all of your work and homework assignments as well.

You and Han had been best friends ever since you were kids, your parents had known each other way before either one of you had been born and had stayed close through the years. Even moving to the same town and same street to live, so your lives were intertwined completely and fully from a very early age. Han couldn’t imagine his life without you in it and he knew you felt the same way. The two of you were so close that the two of you move as if you’re one, you finish each other’s sentences, there’s almost an intuition when it comes to your relationship. Either one of you can tell when there’s something wrong or going on with the other one and already figuring it out or talking about it before the other realizes it.

And it was always so funny to Han that the two of you fit so well together because you were exact opposites of each other. He was anxious while you were unconcerned, you were outgoing while he took a while to warm up to people, he was a homebody while you were someone who enjoyed going out. He teased you that you were the peanut butter to his jelly and that was how your nicknames of PB and Ji-lly had formed.

The two of you were inseparable and Han preferred it that way, he was the more socially awkward one out of the two of you and relied heavily on you to help guide him through friendships. Han had always been into things that others found nerdy or geeky, anime, comic books, superheroes, and music. He had always been bullied for the things he liked and found pleasure in but you had never judged him, in fact you had tried to understand him and enjoy the same things he did. He loved that about you, you always had an open mind on everything you may not have understood it or enjoyed it as much as Han did but you always tried to. He was so grateful for your friendship that he would do anything for you.

Which is how he found himself taking meticulous notes for the two of you during your shared classes. The bell rings for the end of class and Han pushes up his round framed glasses as he finishes the last of the notes before stowing away his books in his backpack. Slipping his cell phone out of his pocket he sends a quick text to Iyo. Hey Iyo, can I swing by and grab the notes and assignments for PB?  I’m going to stop by her place today and want to have everything ready for her. He waited until he got a response form her and then asked for her location so that he could swing by. With Iyo’s location Han quickly left the classroom preparing to get everything together for you before heading to your apartment.

The cafe is lively as Han enters it looking around for Iyo, she had mentioned that she’d be there with a few of your mutual friends on their break and that he could swing by and pick up the notes and work assignments she had for you. When he hears Iyo’s bright laughter he turns to find her sitting at a table in the middle of the cafe with your friends. Walking over they all slowly stop laughing and turn to face him with various greetings. Han shyly waves at them with a shaky smile slipping onto his face as he buries his hands in the front pocket of his hoodie.

”Hey Han!” Greets Iyo as she begins rummaging through her backpack to get all of the notes and assignments for him. “Have you talked to PB? Is she doing better?” Iyo asks curiously. “She hasn’t responded to me in a few hours.”

”Yeah I talked to her about an hour ago before my last class. She’s okay, still got a sore throat and feeling like crap but her fever broke this morning thankfully.” Han responded easily while smiling softly.

“Aww that’s really sweet of you to be keeping up with her while she’s sick.” One of your mutual friends mentions and Han nods his head at her as she smiles up at him.

”Yeah, you’re really a big sweetheart to her for helping her out like this.” Another chimes in and Han starts to feel a little self conscious of their praise of him. He shifts on his feet anxiously and Iyo looks up at him with a soft frown directed at her friends.

”Guys, enough.” Iyo scolded them and they all giggled as they leaned into each other.

”I mean if I had such a hot best friend like Han I wouldn’t let him go without trying to be with him.” Another friend spoke up and Han turned his head sharply to stare at them with wide eyes as the table dissolved into giggles again and Iyo rolled her eyes at them.

”Ignore them Han. They’re just jealous.” Iyo tried to explain their words and behavior away and Han just nodded his head quickly before taking the folder that she held out to him.

”Jealous of what?” Han asked curiosity getting the best of him and not being able to let it go until he knew what she meant.

”Of PB having a hot best friend who’s too sweet for her.” One of the friends said and the table erupted into giggles once again which made Han frown softly at their words. Iyo shook her head at him and then gestured for Han to leave which Han nodded and thanked her softly for the notes and assignments before he quickly left. The words of your mutual friends ringing in his ears and bouncing along the walls of his mind.

Han walks up to your apartment door and quickly opens the door with the spare key that you gave him years ago. He quickly slips out of his shoes and brings the bag of take out into the kitchen before moving around to heat it all up for the two of you. When he had the food ready and hot he put it on a tray before carrying it into your bedroom. 

When he spotted you curled up in your bed buried underneath your blankets with just the top of your head peeking out he smiled softly. Placing the tray of food on your end table he sat on your bed before placing a gentle hand on your side.

”PB, wake up PB. I need you to eat something before taking more medicine.” He called out to you softly. You slowly stirred from sleep and Han watched fondly as you groggily sat up in bed letting the blankets fall from you. He chuckled softly as he gazed at you, your hair was a mess on the top of your head, your eyes are red rimmed and your face looks drowsy still even though he’s pretty sure that you’ve slept for the whole day.

”Hey Ji-lly.” You said in a raspy tone and Han smiled softly at you as he gently raised his hand to comb through your hair.

”You’re a mess PB.” He teased softly and you smiled crookedly at him as your eyes closed gently. “C’mon you need to eat something before you take your medicine.” He told you and he watched as you nodded your head obediently. He gently handed you the bowl of soup and waited until you began eating before he took his own bowl and began to eat.

As the two of you ate Han’s mind kept replaying the encounter at the cafe and without him knowing it you began to pick up that something was bothering him. After taking a couple spoonfuls of your soup you lower your bowl to your lap and turn to look at Han.

”Alright Ji-lly, spill it. What’s bothering you?” You ask him and he looks over at you in surprise. 

“I-“ he begins before sighing softly as a knowing smile graces his lips. “When I met up with Iyo there were some of your other friends there and they said some stuff that made me curious and a little uncomfortable.” He admitted and you tilted your head to the side as you continued eating your soup.

”What was it?” You asked as your eyes kept darting back to him from your soup bowl.

”They said that I was super sweet for getting your notes and assignments for you. But then they also said that I was hot and that they were jealous of you having a sweet hot best friend.” Han told you and you looked at him surprised before he opened his mouth and spoke up again. “Do you think I’m attractive?” He asked suddenly and you jolted in your spot on the bed in surprise at his question before you shyly darted your eyes away from him for a moment.

”Ji-lly you’re very attractive.” You tell him honestly and Han stares at you with wide eyes at your confession. “But it’s not just looks that’s attractive about you.” You say and Han tilts his head at you curiously. “It’s everything. Your sweetness, your excitable passions that you get so worked up over that you rant for hours on end about them, your patience to always make sure that I understand things that you’re sharing with me, your inclusion of me in everything in your life.” You admit softly and Han smiles fondly at you before he chuckles softly.

”That just sounds like you’re in love with me or something.” He jokes teasingly as he looks down at his soup bowl and finishes the last of his soup. When he realizes that haven’t responded to his joke he whips his head up to stare at you surprised. He scoots closer to you and raises his hand to press his glasses further up his nose nervously as you look down at your bowl with a soft pretty blush dusting your cheeks. “Are you in love with me?” He asks softly with baited breath.

You shrug your shoulders at him and your eyes are avoiding any connection with his own as your blush intensifies on your cheeks. Han moves even closer to you and reaches out to cup your face with both of his hands tilting it up to look at him.

”Are you in love with me like I’m in love with you?” He asks softly and smiles as he watches your eyes widen at his admission before you’re melting in his hold with a soft look overcoming your face.

”Yes, Ji-lly. I’m in love with you just like you’re in love with me.” You admit to him softly and he smiles at you sweetly. He then leans forward puckering his lips to kiss you but just as his lips are about to make contact your hand comes up in between both of your mouths to block him. When Han’s lips press against your palm he jolts back and looks at you slightly wounded and you huff at him. “Ji-lly I’m still sick. Don’t you remember?” You tease him gently and Han blushes brightly at your reminder as you grin at him softly.

”When you’re feeling better can I kiss you then?” He asks softly and your grin widens on your face.

”Well duh, we’re dating now so I would assume you would kiss me when I’m better.” You tell him and he balks at your words before he melts into your bed and cuddles into your side as you finish your soup.

”Dating huh?” He asks smugly and you grin at him before pressing a kiss to his forehead.

”Don’t get cocky yet Ji-lly. It’s gonna be our first kiss.” You tell him teasingly and suddenly Han buries his face into your shoulder as a blush consumes him as embarrassment grips him.

SKZ Taglist: @kayleefriedchicken, @babigriin, @inlovewithstraykids, @channiesrightasscheek, @kaiyaba

@bookswillfindyouaway

[sgiandubh]

Life and death of Anon

It's literally only hours after I stopped Anons from being pesky and nasty, that the number of sock accounts who suddenly wish to follow this page is over the roof.

It's literally only seconds after I wrote I will not allow any coward bullying in here anymore, that Anons started to pick on friendly shipper pages. Surely in the hope they will be given the oxygen they so sorely crave to reward a petty ego. Anons don't even make any cloak & dagger effort, anymore. Some righteous petticoats are showing aplenty: mannerisms, schmannerisms, heh. I could name names, even go ahead and prove that they almost copy and paste their own comments written elsewhere, but I won't. That would make them look important and possibly even brave, whereas I would look like the Bad Cop, something that never really interested me.

Come to think of it, there are roughly three main types of Anons who feel the urge to troll our pages:

The Simpleton: that particular Anon is almost always 'new in here' and seems to ask nonsensical questions, just for the sake of annoying the shite out of their hosts. They never see anything, never understand anything, but somehow their comments are always oriented towards a certain agenda. Makes you wonder, really.

The Weeping Statue: she has been a shipper since forever. She has patiently endured rough waters without capsizing and bravely weathered any storm. But right now, you see, ever since Orange Xena/Tennis Babe/German Athlete/Czech Young Woman came along, she just doesn't know anymore. She doesn't know what to think, she doesn't know what to say and she definitely has not the courage to post her rants on her own page. However, she still wants everyone to know she is petrified with grief and discombobulated. For one thing, she probably ceased to be a shipper (if ever) a very long time ago and this is just her indulging in her favorite pastime: being that fly in your ointment. I suggest you ignore: you are nobody's shrink, nor anyone's fool.

The Pennywise Clown: probably the worst type you could ever come across while in here and the unhinged variant of The Simpleton. But perfectly able and willing to send you violent bullshit like this one, with a noted propensity for long, verbose comments:

Received by me in December 2024, never answered. Would make a nice subpoena argument, anytime, anywhere. My crime? Refusing to bitch about the main cast and also being consistent and persistent about what are not just 'beliefs', but what I do consider as facts.

Mrs. It Pennywise went on and on and on with it for months, with very little variation in her nastiness and always at the ready to slap-a-shipper. I don't have the slightest wish to deal with Mrs. It Pennywise in court, because it would probably involve the Interpol, an international rogatory commission and lots of money I could use in more pleasantly creative ways. Only to probably uncover a provincial freak, with no sizable property to seize.

These idiots will always try too hard. Not only to make you seriously second guess your own deductive and even cognitive abilities, but even more so to curb your enthusiasm and anything positive about you being a shipper. For there are, overall, many positives in here, mark me: nice people, intelligent conversations, real empathy and kindness. If you feel you can take it, even when the heat hits too close to home, then you are certainly stronger and wiser than me. If not, my unsolicited advice is to make a very liberal use of the Block Anon button and ultimately get rid of this Tumblr setting altogether. Life will be calmer, for they are just a bunch of cowards hiding under a blade of grass. You don't have to answer every single idiocy that drops in your inbox. Also, you are the only one who has got the power to stop such in(s)anity. Tips and useful deductions almost never come that way, not anymore.

Let this be a cautionary tale. It's not because OL is slowly fading off, that the trolls suddenly deactivated. Far from it.

[shouts-into-the-void]

Montresor caring about Will didn't come out of nowhere, Lenore was just mad: a biased completely unbiased post

The thing we need to remember as a rule is that Montresor's default personality is rude and antagonistic even when he's not actively trying to be an aggressor, which means you have to look at what he means rather than necessarily the things he says. He's a clear victim of abuse, who reacts to feelings trapped, cornered, threatened, panicked, or humiliated by lashing out. From what I have gathered, it seems like his mother may have been the type of person who was nice one minute, then became abusive at the drop of a hat, and/or acted loving while claiming she "had to do this for his own good", and he was clearly raised in a very strict religious environment where he didnt have a lot of control/was punished for things he couldnt help. As a reaction, Montresor tries to force an aggressive response out of anyone he feels threatened by, because at least then it's predictable and he feels in control. Okay, great, Montresor analysis out of the way, moving on.

Our first real look at Will and Montresor as a unit is when the clusterfucks (side note: I've seen a lot of people calling them the acoleets now? Far less funny, absolutely not) are discussing their spectres. During this conversation, Montresor is actually hyping Will up, and even when he agrees with Ada that is sounds useless, he makes sure to assure him that it "looks really cool though."

We only really see Montresor become outright violent and dangerous once it's revealed that only one person can win a new life. We see him actively panic about it, and while we don't really get a lot more context for him yelling at Will in the moment, I think its relevant that this is the moment when he starts treating Will less nicely, because now it's a competition an everyone else is potentially out to get him. Hell, he even immediately begins joking around with Will after telling him to shut up, so it's clear that he's acting out of stress and fear immediately after the revelation.

The interaction that immediately follows this is the incident with Morella and Ada, and I find it notable that Montresor goes out of his way to include Will. (when he makes sure to let you get your turn humiliating a woman to prove her loyalty to the group #romantic 🤡)

Later, during the Spectre vs. Students lesson, when Berenice bites Will and he asks for help, Montresor immediately tells her to leave him alone. While he seems mildly annoyed with Will the whole time (kind of understandably, because Will keeps screwing up the plan) he only says anything particularly horrible after Berenice slashes him across the face with her knife, which clearly pisses him off in general. We see him letting Will nap on his shoulder afterwards, which isn't super important I just think it's cute.

Montresor clearly sees them as a unit, as he still involved Will with the plan despite Will messing up the previous night with Duke and stops Will from helping Annabel with Ada despite not having a real reason to do by saying "We'll sit this one out." Like it should have gone without saying that if he's not doing it, Will isn't either. Then the next day, the fact that Montresor comes to get Will specifically so they can walk to breakfast together? Knows what his toothbrush looks like and goes out of his way to give it back? The little flick on the forehead when he calls him a church churchmouse? That he picks up on Will's distress and immediately goes to collect Ada to save him? I see you, fake-ass idgafer.

Which brings me to my next point, which is that it is Lenore on her enraged, vengeful tirade who claims that Montresor hates Will. She claims it's due to his behavior towards Will when he came to get him, but I think its pretty clear she only says it to upset Will. And Will can't think of anything nice Montresor's ever done for him because he's stressed, thinks he's about to get shot, and his self-confidence is super low. He even addresses the fact later that Montresor goes out of his way to save him all the time.

I also think now is a good time to point out that Montresor only seems to physically hurt Will in any significant way when he's been having a flashback. His expression when he comes out of his death flashback to find himself attacking Will is shocked, and while he doesn't apologize, his response does come across as apologetic. He has a similar expression when he wakes up from Ada's vision choking Will, only he looks incredibly panicked that time because he'd done actual damage. The expression on his face when Lenore points out what he's done is pained. I think this runs back to Montresor telling Will not to touch him, I'm pretty sure part of his trauma revolves around physical touch and when he's having an episode of PTSD/not fully aware of his surroundings he lashes out instinctively at the person touching him, which unfortunately means Will, who is a very physically affectionate person (man has 13 siblings and it shows.) Which is unfortunate, because I think Montresor also seems to be a very tactile person, and he actually goes out of his way to be touching Will a lot.

Another interesting thing? Montresor only ever addresses Will by name, which is very significant with context. The nicknames Montresor gives people are meant to mock them, so by only using Will's name it subtlely signals that he holds him in higher respect (or at least in more genuine regard) than the others. In Will's flashback, Sally–someone who went to school with him and was in all the same classes–doesn't remember his name, only that he's one of many Wilson siblings. So for Montresor, who can't even remember his "ace in the hole" and current fling's name, to be constantly making it a point to say he knows who Will is, is a great indicator of his actual feelings. By contrast, Will calls Montresor "Monty" exclusively, the only nickname he receives that is genuinely affectionate and something he never attempts to make him stop calling him.

Which pretty much brings us back to the events of the current episodes, which I've already talked about the significance of in another post. I know this is probably insanely biased for multiple reasons and im sure theres a bunch of little tidbits I've forgotten , but do with it what you will.

[ajastu]

good morning. i still cant get over that fucking 'wanton massacre' post from yesterday

Like, don't get me wrong. I do agree that it would be interesting to revisit the whole architect plotline n maybe explore some more the consequences of darkspawn being able to be 'awakened'.

but oh my god. im going to chew this bone a little bit, as a treat

There are a lot of reasons why this take, worded like it is, is bad. Nothing against OP, obviously, i just want to put my thoughts into words. for funsies. this is enrichment in my enclosure

First of all. we do have to establish that this is a game we're talking about, and games have to conform to certain requirements for the sake of gameplay design. Having darkspawn as an enemy has been a staple of the franchise for as long as it existed, and so there is nothing 'weird as hell' with the fact that veilguard continues that trend.

Now, if we talk about purely just the lore, not looking at gameplay...there is a huge difference between a darkspawn and someone who is tranquil. The main one being: tranquil people do not try to kill other people on sight. They are also not able to infect someone else with the blight. And, if we look at the definition of 'wanton' in this context...

The lore never presented non-awakened darkspawn as harmless or able to be reasoned with. It has also never presented the tranquil as a danger to other people.

So, killing the tranquil? that Would be a wanton massacre. Killing the darkspawn? I'm afraid that's just self defense.

The fact remains that it takes a certain process done by a certain guy (The Architect) to 'awaken' a darkspawn. Even if he could teach someone else to perform the ritual, we are still talking about the few vs however fuckoff many darkspawn there are in the world. Not to mention, it is not guaranteed that the awakened darkspawn will even choose to remain peaceful, as was the case with The Mother in awakening.

And the existence of The Architect and his group of peaceful darkspawn isn't even common knowledge in Thedas.

So, even if the game did decide to go into all that and maybe pursue the avenue of awakening the darkspawn etc etc etc....what should the people of Thedas do in the meantime? Because that will not be a quick and easy process. And the darkspawn are not going to just stand patiently in line to The Architect's Awakening Kiosk.

Again, I do agree that it could be a fun story to explore. It would also be a whole another game that will require a completely different plot direction, and it is kind of unreasonable and unfair to present this as a failure on veilguard's part. For a story to be coherent, it has to follow a certain thread and theme, and that becomes even more strict and difficult to navigate in an rpg game like dragon age, which has to account for different player choices.

Hell, even some of the choices we are presented with in veilguard could mean wildly different outcomes for the state of the world (keep archive or not, return griffons to the grey wardens or not...even taash's quest-line, while not making you choose that particular aspect directly, has very different implications for the future of the antaam). And i honestly don't know how easy it would be to navigate if we do, by some divine miracle, get da5 one day.

It is similar to the criticism of "well why couldn't we choose to tear the veil down!". There is a story that needs to be told, and it needs to account for a lot of player choices, and so something as radically world-altering as tearing down the veil simply cannot exist in the canon of the franchise. It will lead to two completely different games down the line. there was only ever going to be one choice possible: either keep the veil, or destroy it. Not both.

And, arguably, veilguard actually opens the door to the possibility of exploring a different side of darkspawn with the ending where you convince solas to bind himself to the veil.

'I cannot kill the blight, but i can help to soothe it's anger'

Like, you see what im saying here? This could be argued as a possible beginning to the reform of how the blight works, generally. So, instead of relying on one guy to awaken all the darkspawn, perhaps the blight itself would let them 'awaken' on their own once it's sufficiently soothed. Of course, this is all theory and speculation and just a fun thought exercise etc etc etc, but it's the best shot for the possibility of exploring this topic properly in-game. Not that i think that this is the direction that will be chosen necessarily, but you know. nothing is certain at this point.

IN CONCLUSION, I think that this once again comes down to how people let their disappointment over a game not meeting their expectations cloud their judgement. If you think about it without letting your emotions control the narrative, it is quite reasonable that veilguard would not be exploring the darkspawn awakening aspect of the lore. There's just no space for it in the narrative that was required. Hell, they obviously had to cut it as much as they possibly could afford to, thanks to the development hell the team was put through. Exploring this plotline in a way that would do it justice would have been impossible in the game, and it would have cheapened both this concept AND the overall narrative.

Criticizing veilguard for this is similar to criticizing, i don't know, a cheese store not selling your favorite candy. Not the best metaphor, but you know.

It could be a fun discussion. It could be a fun project, to really sit down and work out the logistics of this whole thing. It could become a creative endeavor, but instead it's used as a way to dunk on datv for no reason, and i just think that's a fucking shame

[katherinakaina]

“Daniil does have genuinely awful text options. Stop pretending he doesn’t. THAT’S what people criticize him for. And y’all are just trying to absolve your favourite guy”

Okay. I don’t know what others do. But I don’t dismiss any of his bad lines (even if he usually has a contradicting line somewhere meaning he is in several minds on the issue, not a raging fanatic). Because:

Pathologic is not about who’s perfect. And it’s not about who’s your favourite war criminal either.

It’s about flawed people in the horrible world DOING GOOD ANYWAY.

You know, like us. Like me, like you. You don’t have to be perfect to go and fight the plague. In fact, you will never be perfect. If that’s what you’re waiting for you will never start fighting.

The only character who believes herself to be a literal saint turns out to be the literal plague. And even she goes and does good anyway. That’s the story we are dealing with here.

Why I am personally a staunch Daniil defender instead of tearing through his worst lines and choices (though I do that sometimes too) is because how the fandom treats him is unfair, it’s disproportionate to his crimes. And he is the main magnet for all the criticism that can be aimed at the characters in this game, meanwhile Artemy ‘these herb-gathering Worms have little in common with men’ Burakh is just as bad (at least) in the games. Seriously, if we start going through every problematic Artemy moment and treat them with as little leniency as people treat Daniil's faux pas we’ll be here all day. It would be so easy to portray Artemy as an absolute monster only using his canon text in either game, it’s not even funny. Not to mention other characters.

So, we either start scrutinizing and making fun of everybody the way we do with Daniil or we treat Daniil with leniency and respect as well as everybody. Those are two fair options. You don’t have to pick but then please be honest with what you’re doing.

[strwberri-milk]

Not sure if you take these types of requests but oh well. (Jokes aside, please tell me if this is not something you’re usually open to doing)

What would Xavier, Sylus, and Caleb do if reader tried to back away from the relationship/avoid them altogether because they see themselves as the men’s vulnerabilities. What I mean is, for instance, all 3 of these men have a very harsh and demanding job in a world where showing the slightest vulnerability can lead to their fall from grace. For instance, if Xavier prioritised reader’s safety over his mission (or his own), it may lead to a catastrophe (assuming they couldn’t eliminate the wanderer). If word got out that Sylus had a lover, people could try and abduct them to squeeze Onychinus of all their resources. Same goes for Caleb. If people find out that the Colonel has a weakness, they’d exploit it to initiate his downfall.

Knowing this, what if reader tried to back away and disappear because they truly care for the men and don’t want to become a weakness that would drag the men down from their lives?

[I know it’s otome and you could imagine the men would change their jobs for reader’s sake, but I’d like to think realistically. Xavier is protecting Linkon, Sylus is protecting the N109 zone and I doubt he’d let the legacy he worked so hard to create fall because of this, and Skyhaven’s fate and his own kinda relies on how smoothly he executes his duties. I heavily doubt that realistically speaking, they’d just let it all crumble for reader]

SORRY IF I YAP ALOT!!

i do take requests like this but i also approach stuff like this more like a discussion LMAO

i do think otome logic would just. make them change their jobs LMAO but like. i like the fact that you want me to approach it realistically so im gonna tackle that too

in my head, i do think realistically all of them BUT caleb would quit which acc i talked abuot this here (this post speaks to their jobs more as moral objections but i also kinda was vague so it still applies here in my head)

i think tho sylus lowk would just become more brutal and i can see caleb doing the same thing. its like, deterrant to stop people from trying to nap you - think about it. if kidnapping you means brutal death no matter how unharmed you are then the cost of kidnapping you is severely outweighed by jsut awnting to stay alive. i think basiaclly like, people could try it or try to make threats against your life and then they end up with a hand in their mail or something thats just. horrifying happening to them and all they did was look at you funny

xavier i think would be able to beat up anything bc hes pretty strong + has been doing this for a long time but he definitely would chosoe you over the lives of others every time. you know this and you could try to leave him bc of it but honestly breaking up with him does nothing he'd STILL choose you over others

you have to rmr that the main crux of their conflict is truly how in love they are with you, meaning that i do think that while none of them would straight up quit their job, they may resort to dramatic measures to keep you. he wont want to let you go. i dont think theyd let it crumble but also, you breaking up with them doesn't really change anything bc their goal is ultimaetly to keep you safe and at his side.

i thiiiink that like. for these three in particular, hes willing to let things fall if it means protecting you. zayne and rafayel are a little different - rafayel DID choose you over lemuria but idealstically i do think hed rather have both. zayne i think wouldnt erally be in a position to need to choose you over something else but i also think he would never let himself be put in a position like that and would rather take himself out lolol

[irenespring]

I am at this scene right now in my rewatch and it is DESTROYING ME like it always does.

Because one of Kerry's defining motivations is searching for family. Wanting to belong, to fit in somewhere, and to be loved. And she tries this in a number of ways, including trying to find her birth parents, her numerous failed attempts at entry into the ER found family unit, arguably her whole ambition that gets mistaken for pure Machiavellianism (that is a Much longer story).

Here she is literally trying to hire a father figure. She says she loves Lawrence like a father. In her mind this is the best thing ever to happen. She's still suffering from a completely self-caused social backlash (one of very few) in that deal she made with Romano, and here she can do what she always thought she could do but has never worked before and never will again: use her power to get people to love her! Her deal with the devil was worth it because now she can hire her dad! He can work with her! And now she isn't alone! She has someone in the building! Who cares about her!

And he says so. That is a huge deal. He tells everyone who will listen how great he thinks Kerry is and he tells her all the time he thinks she's amazing. He tells her fun little stories of their time working together. He compliments her intelligence and her leadership, and he respects her policies (even the goofy badge idea). Some of that is just to cover when he forgets things and needs her to focus on other stuff, but even then he means it. After years of constant mockery and constant rejection. Mockery and rejection from the people Lawrence is now praising her to. You can practically feel how elated she is to have him there through the screen. She has someone to talk to, someone who is always happy to see her. She really is just so happy. It's everything she ever wanted, going back to when she first hired that PI. She found a parent.

And then it crumbles. And she fucking grabs at the vanishing particles, the way she insists that no, it isn't possible, he isn't sick, he doesn't have to leave, please, don't make him, she needs him, please. Then, because the writers hate her and me and human decency, there's the knife twist that she has to fire him and he storms out on her. She is forced to wreck this relationship just like she has wrecked all her other ER relationships.

ER is supposed to be a found family. It hasn't been for Kerry, until Lawrence. Now she behaves exactly like the loved ones of patients who are going to die. Telling their clearly dying family members about miracle cures, telling them to hang on just a little longer. She can't let go. Because she was happy. More than that, she doesn't want to be alone again.

The suicide element, just as Kerry is working herself up about clinical trials and hope is a brilliant piece of writing. It is also fascinating given that Kerry is someone who is (or at least will be, I will probably write much more on this when I get to s8e1 because holy shit) periodically suicidal. Also the fact that the end of Lawrence's speech is "nobody coming to see me." This is also hell for Kerry. She understands this.

So the "I'll come and see you" is 1) True. When Kerry finds the woman she thinks is her mother in the nursing home, she cares for her arguably too well, beyond the woman's wishes. She sits by her bed. Talks to her. Spends every moment she can with her. Despite all evidence that woman: doesn't know where she is, who she is, doesn't know Kerry is there. Kerry will show up no matter what. 2) in Kerry's mind, enough. One person made all the difference for her these past couple episodes. Just to have one person there is a game changer.

There's something horribly ominous in the way the last scene of the episode isn't this scene but Jeanie packing up. I think it's supposed to be ending on a happier note, but it drives home that Kerry also lost HER ONE OTHER REAL FRIEND THIS EPISODE. She is now very isolated. She'll be pretty much alone facing the paradigm shift of season 7 (for the aftereffects of that, see my comment on s8e1).

In conclusion: The show loves to torture Kerry Weaver because it thinks it is either funny, moral, or standard-trope-so-who-cares to torture the neurodivergent lesbian, but this was actually very well done so it gets a pass. The tragedy here is peak.