#and then I’m just like still really struggling with people | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fgumi · 1 day ago

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⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ LOSER IN A HOT MAN'S BODY

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 { PAIRING; non-idol!heeseung x reader, GENRE; fluff, school!au, headcanon, WC; 2.8k, A/N; i love losers that love that girlfriends entirely too much but, at the same time, not enough. TAGS; @en-dream @heeheesang @httpenhoon @r1kification @seungheartyou, @starfallia @sugarikiz @hoondolls @bamguetismee @jnysaln @cixrosie @wensurr @heartheejake @m1kkso }

(˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) .ᐟ.ᐟ part two is up!

loser!heeseung was never the first one to get chosen for anything. well, he did get chosen first for musicals and solos! he had a beautiful voice and there was no denying that. but, for anything else? nope. it wasn't until you transferred over to his high school that he got picked willingly (and not because you guys were the only two left). you approached him in gym class after your teacher said to partner up for conditioning. "hey! i'm y/n. do you think we could be partners today?"

heeseung just blinked at you and then turned to see if someone was behind him. when he verified you were talking to him, he turned back to see you with a bemused look, a slight crease forming right between your brows. "you are talking to me, right?" he asked nervously.

a wry smile formed on your lips as you nodded. "there’s no one else around."

heeseung couldn't believe it. someone who wasn't a part of the theatre department was talking to him! so, he agreed with only a moment's hesitation. by the time sit-ups came around, heeseung knew about your basic interests and one secret: you were big on anime. you explained to him, during his sad attempts at pushups, that you loved anime but remained closeted because the boys at your last school made it weird. heeseung was careful not to let his excitement show; he didn't wanna scare you off before he really got to know you. eventually, after all the hellish exercises your teacher put you through, heeseung shyly asked you why you wanted to be partners.

"you looked like the type that doesn't judge people for struggling," you replied after drinking your water. you wiped the droplets of water that trickled down your neck and then offered heeseung some. "i don't have cooties. promise."

he gave you a faint, unsure smile, his hand reaching out slowly, half expecting you to pull it back and say psych! but you didn’t. you just patiently waited for him to take it. honestly, he just looked like a spooked deer to you, and you couldn’t help but find it endearing. after class was over and it was time for lunch, heeseung deflated. it was nice talking to you while it lasted.

“heeseung! wait up!”

he turned to you with round eyes, watching you rush over, a backpack draped over your right shoulder. you were freshly showered, water still dripping off the ends of your hair. you looked... happy? you slowed to a stop right in front of him.

“do you mind if we eat together?”

you wanted to eat with him? a cool girl like you wants to eat with a certified loser like him?

“it’s okay if you already have plans! i think i can find somewhere else to sit.”

no! you jumped a little. heeseung retracted into himself, rubbing the back of his neck. he’s never had someone ask to eat with him. he just sort of sat with his theatre classmates—not even friends. they all thought he was weird. you gave him a puzzled look.

“are you sure? you don’t have to pity me just because i’m new,” you pouted. gosh, was it just him or did everyone find you adorable?

“i’m sure. i was just hesitant since i’m not known for being, you know, popular.”

rolling your eyes, you clapped a hand on his shoulder. “as if that actually matters.” you tugged him along, linking your arm with his. thank goodness you were busy looking for the cafeteria because heeseung was struggling to keep the blush off of his face. as much as heeseung didn’t want to get his hopes up, he hoped that you guys would become real friends.

loser!heeseung loved his hobbies. he could talk about them for hours; they were his passion. he loved playing maple story, league of legends, team fight tactics, going to the renaissance fair, studying the metrics of trot (this one was a little too niche to really talk about though). none of these passions were greater than his passion for you. this man was dedicated to learning everything there was to know about you now that you were friends. you teased him about how stalkerish he sounded. almost immediately, he apologized.

the way his shoulders shrunk and eyes drooped down, you were definitely the asshole. when he stopped talking, you panicked. so, you didn’t think. you kissed his cheek. you blinked. he blinked. you blinked at each other. you know that ouran high school host club scene where tamaki realized haruhi is a girl and she complimented him? you’d bet your whole house that’s how red you were because you could feel the heat radiating off your face.

heeseung’s mind was still white noise. any sounds that were supposed to reach his ears were muffled, like he was underwater. was he underwater? was he dragged down into the depths of the styx river only to be lost forever? was he dreaming to cope with the harsh reality of his death? was he—

“heeseung?” you meekly called. “i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have done that without your consent. that was—”

he must’ve called upon achilles’s guidance and invincibility because he didn’t know where he got this courage otherwise. what courage you may ask? well, the courage that planted heeseung’s lips on yours.

your lips were so soft. they tasted like strawberries. he wondered if strawberries were your favorite fruit. he could kiss you forever. oh crap, he was kissing you.

anxiety crept up his spine, invading his every nerve; it was telling him he had to pull away or else you’d leave him forever. except, when he started moving away, he noticed you followed, reluctant to end the kiss. your eyes were closed too. he could’ve sworn they were open from shock.

heeseung could feel his back creaking in protest at the odd angle; he would’ve fallen over if it weren’t for you clutching the front of his shirt. huh? oh! maybe, you liked the kiss! you liked the kiss, like he did! oh, but now he couldn’t breathe. what should he do? he didn’t want the kiss to end.

he pressed back, holding out until the last possible moment. but you pulled away first, gasping for air. a blush dusted your cheeks and heeseung could guess that he was red too—probably not as pretty of a shade as yours though.

“s-sorry,” he stammered as you caught your breath. “i don’t know why i—”

you shut him up with another kiss (but this one was too short for heeseung’s newfound thirst for kissing you). when you pulled away, his big eyes tugged at your heart. they looked so sad that you moved away. it made you giggle—this whole situation. for someone that was trying to learn everything about you, he sure did miss your huge crush on him.

loser!heeseung didn’t know how he got so fortunate. was he a luck domain cleric in real life? he felt like he was rolling nat 20s continuously. he managed to ask you out (though, he was stuttering the whole time and nearly tripped on top of you—it was a whole affair that he’d rather forget) and be dating you 3 years later? he was one lucky man. and, some might say even luckier as time went on.

you got more confident once you guys got to college and, thus, you got hotter. you found your sense of self and your fashion reflected it. heeseung wasn’t doing so bad either. he found people that he got along with and could proudly (read: shyly) call friends. he found beomgyu in the league discord server that the university had and jeongin in d&d club! he’d meet up with them every once in awhile whenever they all felt like they needed to touch grass. of course, his friends knew you came first. you were heeseung’s everything. what they couldn’t wrap around their heads was how heeseung was your everything.

“you’ve been dating for 3 years!? no way, man.” “are you secretly rich? the son of some big conglomerate?” “all offense, she’s hot and you’re… not.”

heeseung didn’t let that bother him. his friends were idiots that had never felt the touch of a woman. plus, you trained him better (you told him to stop talking about himself like he was your pet, but he refused). you loved him so much without any strings attached. you were patient with him and listened to him ramble about how league kept nerfing his favorite character with every update. you never tried to change him and you told him it’s because you fell in love with him for how he was. but, there came a day when he wished you did. he happened to overhear a conversation between you and your friends.

“girl, there’s no way you’ve been with heeseung for 3 years and he hasn’t picked up a single thing about fashion from you.” “the face cards are mismatched, ma. you’re up here and he’s not even on this plane.” “don’t you ever get embarrassed whenever you guys go out? i mean, he dresses like he’s stuck in his mom’s basement.” “i hope he compensates in other ways because he’s not doing it where i can see.” “how are you okay with someone that much skinnier than you? doesn’t your body dysmorphia get triggered?”

you stopped talking to those girls after that. however, it didn’t stop heeseung from getting hurt by it. it was true, in heeseung’s eyes. you deserved much better than what he was giving you. how is it that you loved him even though he looked the exact same as he did 3 years ago? there were so many hot guys around and you never so much as turned your head to glance. there was nothing to support his insecurity about being hot enough or being enough in general. nonetheless, that horrid conversation sparked something in heeseung.

“baby, i’m heading to the gym. i’ll be back later to cook us dinner, okay?” if your brows raised any further, they’d merge into your hairline. “the gym?” heeseung nodded firmly. “gotta start working out to combat all the ramen i eat.”

“hee, you haven’t gained weight since we started dating, despite you eating my leftovers and your food. you don’t need to combat anything,” you laughed. when you saw heeseung was still tying the laces on his shoes, you let it go, thinking nothing of it. you kissed him and reminded him to stay hydrated.

thus began heeseung’s gym journey. it was difficult. muscle barely stuck even though he was eating well over 3000 calories. but, he could see his body getting toned, more cut, so he was happy. maybe people would stop looking at the two of you like you were wrong.

his wishful thinking remained at that. despite getting noticeably more fit, people still talked. they talked about his fashion, his haircut, and his hygiene (he thought this one was unfair considering he always did skincare with you and loved doing your nightly routines).

so, on the day you told him you were going thrifting, he asked to tag along. you were taken aback. heeseung never came with you; he didn’t see the point when he had perfectly good clothes at home. but you let him come along. you thought he’d just peruse with you or be there to make sure you paid with the card he gave you (he made a lot of money from his internship and begged you to use it for anything you wanted), but he didn’t. he asked a lot of questions.

“do you think this would look good on me?” “do these go together?” “are these good quality?”

you were excited. going thrifting was one of your favorite hobbies and to see heeseung taking such an interest in it was thrilling. you gave your opinions, always with a disclaimer that fashion is up to preference. he nodded along, processing your words. by the end of your thrifting trip, heeseung went home with a bundle of clothes to wear. the next day, he’d wake up earlier than normal to try and piece his new clothes together. he knew he wasn’t good at it. his friends let him know without reservations. hell, your friends let him know with their skeptical looks. it wasn’t until he talked to sunghoon in the gym that he got some actual constructive criticism.

“you’re taking an interest in fashion?”

“nothing crazy,” heeseung muttered, kicking the dust on the floor. “i just hate the comments y/n gets whenever her friends think i’m not listening.”

sunghoon looked at his gym buddy in pity. “look, man. if everything you’ve told me about your relationship is true, i don’t think y/n cares what you wear. she hasn’t in 3 years. what makes you think it’ll change all of a sudden?”

nothing. he didn’t doubt you. he just got sick at the thought of you having to listen to all those criticisms. so, sunghoon helped him. he showed him his pinterest moodboard and made heeseung swear to never tell anyone that’s how he chooses what to wear. after that informative session, heeseung got to work. he used your instagram feed as a reference, wanting to match your aesthetic, and created a moodboard inspired by it. using his pinterest board, he went thrifting by himself. he recalled the countless videos he watched while sorting through the clothes. cotton, not polyester. depending on the stain, you can get it out. tailoring is always an option when you find something that is a little too big!

he was very serious about his transformation. he even digitally scrapbooked the pictures of him in different clothes so he could be like cher in clueless. since then, his fashion started improving. your morning routines together changed ever so slightly with you telling him to spin for you. his heart warmed with every compliment you gave him.

“who is this diva?” “i feel very underdressed. i’m changing.” “are you getting dressed by law roach?” “you’ve been taking dress to impress a little seriously these days.”

heeseung’s confidence soared. now, he wasn’t ashamed to go out with you. your friends weren’t ashamed to be seen with him either. they even went as far as to compliment him! score! he’d gotten brownie points with your friends.

“finally, he’s dressing like a boyfriend fit to be with you, y/n.”

oh, that made you pull the brakes real fast. it completely escaped your mind how much your friends dissed your boyfriend (because you brushed them off as stupid comments). come to think of it, heeseung always did manage to miss the moments where they talked about him, but only by a minute or two. what if… what if he did hear those comments?

curious and worried, you asked him during your nightly routines. “hee, did… did you start dressing up for any particular reason?”

uh oh. heeseung hated lying to you; it physically pained him. so, he confessed. “i heard what your friends think of me and i didn’t want you to have to keep hearing them say things like that.”

“oh, baby, i’m so sorry you heard that,” you cooed. “i didn’t tell you because not even an atom of me agrees with them. i love you as you are, uni tees, basketball shorts and all.”

heeseung put down the moisturizer and looked down. “i know… i just wanted people to stop thinking we’re wrong for each other.”

you frowned and pulled him into a hug. “well, we know we’re perfect for each other. i’ve known it from the moment you started talking about the metrics of trot. i remember just nodding along and thinking how beautiful you were.”

heeseung blushed at your words. you always knew how to make him feel better.

“you don’t have to dress up for anyone but yourself, okay?”

he shook his head with a small smile. “i like matching with you. it’s fun.”

“well, i guess we really gotta dress to impress then,” you grinned, kissing his cheek.

with that, heeseung was reassured. no more pressure. he could just dress however he wanted (which was however you were dressing). but, his glow up didn’t stop there. no, he thought about a haircut. he wanted something that would shut your friends up forever. so, after scrolling forever on tiktok, he found that he liked a mullet with some face-framing pieces. he went and got it done at sunghoon’s trusted barbershop and came out a new man. he immediately sent you a picture, to which you responded, “don’t go anywhere. no errands. no grabbing food. come home. now.”

safe to say, you loved his new haircut. he loved his new haircut. he loved it even more when his friends and your friends couldn’t manage words. good. stay that way.

loser!heeseung was still a loser but, at least, he was in a hot man’s body with his very very attractive girlfriend. he still played league. he still larped. he still took the renaissance fair very seriously. he still loved you more than anything in the world. he was still your loser.

disclaimer: this, in no way, reflects the idol. this is purely fiction. ✧ comments and reblogs are appreciated! ✧ give my other works a read too!

#enhypen #heeseung x reader #lee heeseung #enhypen x reader #enhypen fluff #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #⍣ 𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐚: writes #⍣ 𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐚: headcanons

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writingxfootballl · 2 days ago

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and after all this time (i’m still into you) (alexia putellas x reader)

when arsenal plays barcelona in the champions league final, you finally get to see the girl who broke your heart years ago.

word count: 3105 ish

rating: C cheesy ending but i ran out of ideas. A for kind of angsty but not really.

title- still into you by paramore

a/n: this is unedited. clearing out my computer. don’t come at me for spelling mistakes and plot holes >:(

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you don’t get nervous.

you’re always confident and composed before every game, and you knew that.

jonas knew that.

everyone knew that.

which is why you’ve been the captain at (almost) every team you’ve played for.

it only took half a season in london after your transfer from bayern for you to gain the title of vice captain.

now, two seasons after that, you’re sitting comfortably on your title as captain.

you’re confident and you knew it.

which is why you’re struggling to figure out why your heart is pounding as you put on your captain’s armband.

viv just blamed it on the nerves of the game.

after all, it is the champion’s league final.

who wouldn’t be nervous?

you that’s who.

you knew you wouldn’t be nervous.

you should be there to pep talk your team and get the kids like maanum excited for what was about to happen.

but you were a mess.

“snap out of it. people are beginning to notice.”

viv’s low hiss in dutch brought you out of it temporarily.

you felt a soft tap on the shoulder and turned to see malin’s nerve ridden face.

you briefly forget about your own troubles in place of comforting the younger players.

still, some people are beginning to notice.

lisa whispers to viv:

“is everything okay with y/n?”

viv just shrugs.

your hands don’t get clammy.

like being nervous, having clammy hands was out of the ordinary for you.

which is why you’re confused when you find yourself constantly having to wipe your hands on your shorts to keep them from persperating.

when the game is about to begin, you adjust your captains armband and make your way up front, making sure to wipe your hands again in order to save torrejón the misery of shaking hands with your hot and sweaty ones.

as you’re looking down and adjusting, you don’t notice barca’s new captain walking up towards you.

you don’t notice that it’s in fact not torrejón.

you don’t notice until she walks up right in front of you, and you’re hit with the smell of perfume, one that you were so enamored with many years ago.

and almost immediately, the memories you had suppressed come flooding back.

there’s a sharp intake of air.

and then you look up.

10 years ago

this was your last season with levante.

you knew that.

you had started talks with the staff at wolfsburg and barca, no longer wanting to stay in buñol anymore.

you had signed at the sweet age of 15, and two years later, you weren’t happy with where you were at.

now, 17, you’re more than happy to leave.

aside from being levante’s captain and star midfielder, the club didn’t offer you much.

regardless if you were leaving or not, you still were going to make sure you had one hell of a season.

making your way onto the pitch on the first day of training, you’re surprised to hear the swish of the ball hitting the back of the net.

you’re usually the first to arrive, so someone else being there was unusual to say the least.

you make your way behind the brunette girl, who doesn’t quite seem to register your presence.

you watch her take a few free kicks from behind.

the 11 on her jersey flows as the ball hits the back of the net each and every time.

putellas.

the name doesn’t ring a bell.

must be a new signing.

you clear your throat a little and the girl in front of you spins around so quickly she trips over the ball behind her.

her cheeks flush a little in embarrassment when her back hits the turf.

your cheeks flush too when you see her face.

she was… exactly your type.

high cheekbones… brown hair pulled up into a messy ponytail… arched eyebrows and-

you clear your throat quickly again to shake yourself out of your thoughts.

the girl is still looking up at you expectantly, and you blush before realizing she wanted you to help her up.

you stick an arm out and she grabs it without hesitation, smiling the whole time.

you smile back at her softly, desperately trying to ignore the sparks flying up your arm from the contact.

now infront of you, she was even more breathtaking up close.

“hola. soy alexia, mucho gusto.” (hi, i’m alexia, nice to meet you)

you grimaced slightly.

though you’ve played in spain for the past two years, your spanish was… subpar to say the least.

even then, you manage to get out a choppy, and heavily accented sentence.

“h-hola, uhh soy y/n?” (h-hi, uhh i’m y/n?)

alexia couldn’t hold in her chuckle.

you glare at her and mumble in dutch.

“hou je mond.” (shut up)

alexia laughs again and a quizzical look passes on her face before she tries again.

she sticks out her hand and this time what follows is spoken in heavily spanish accented english:

“i am alexia, nice to meet you.”

you smile and take her hand, replying with heavily dutch accented english in return:

“and i’m y/n. nice to meet you too.”

you were phasing in and out as your coach droned on and on about training rules and protocols.

“okay and now for the partners…”

your ears perked up.

“rodriguez and garcia, y/ln and putellas…”

you turned and your eyes met alexia’s, both of you grinning widely.

honestly, now in hindsight, putting the two of you together was probably a mistake.

in a good way.

separately, you were forces to be reckoned with.

you had an almost dance like way of getting around defenders, shifting your weight and moving your body in ways they just never quite expect.

you also had almost perfect crosses at this young age, leading to almost every one of your crosses becoming an assist.

alexia on the other hand, scored goals.

her free kicks were always shot with so much power that it’s a miracle the goalies don’t have broken wrists after their pitiful attempts to stop them.

so put the two of you together, and you were unstoppable.

there was no way for you to lose during training.

the two of you were unbeaten 2v2 champions.

some of your teammates even began to complain about it.

but it didn’t really matter.

the two of you worked together before training and after training, so much so that you knew her like the back of your hand.

you knew just by instinct what alexia wanted and alexia knew by instinct what you wanted.

it was for that reason that alexia, just after being with levante for a season, broke the club’s all time goal scoring record.

and in that season, you had the most assists out of any player in the primera division.

but your chemistry didn’t stop there.

the two of you were inseparable off the field too.

from sunrise to sunset, the two of you were together.

the weekdays were full of training, the weekends full of movies and late nights in, watching movies on your apartment couch.

it wasn’t long before you moved in together.

as friends of course.

you invited her one day after practice, since she spent so much time there you basically already lived together, and of course, she agreed.

now you were together literally 24/7, and you wouldn’t have changed it for anything.

present

when your eyes met alexia’s brown ones, you couldn’t think about the game anymore.

you think your brain has stopped working.

but luckily, alexia looks just as surprised as you.

you don’t mean for the breathy whisper that escapes to come out, but it does.

“ale…”

alexia’s breath hitches, and the two of you just stand there, dumbstruck, until the referee cuts in between the two of you.

“you’re supposed to shake hands now.”

alexia snaps out of it first.

“right.”

she sticks her hand out and smiles softly at you.

you try to compose yourself the best you can and take her hand.

you try not to make a fool of yourself on live television, but you think that’s impossible at this point.

you try to avoid it, but your heart is racing at the feeling of the girl’s hands in yours.

you both stand there a second longer than you probably should.

your hands linger just a bit too long, and even though you're trying to focus on anything but the electricity running between you, it’s hard not to notice how her touch still sends a jolt through you.

you can smell her perfume again, that same scent that used to be so familiar, and for a second, it feels like you’re back in another time, another life. everything around you fades out.

but then, the moment snaps back into place, and you pull your hand away, way too quickly, like it burned you.

you look down at your feet, just trying to hide the heat creeping up your neck.

“good luck,” you say, voice coming out a little quieter than you’d like.

“yeah,” alexia replies, her smile still there, soft but knowing.

there’s something in the way she says it, like it means more than just the words.

"you too."

she turns away then, and even though you should be focusing on the game, you’re just standing there, heart still racing in your chest.

your feet won’t move, not yet.

not until she’s far enough away.

you finally tear your eyes away, trying to focus on the pitch again, but it’s like the field’s become smaller, the sounds quieter.

all you can hear is your own heartbeat thudding in your ears.

you try to shake it off.

you try to forget about her, but every time you glance over, she’s there—her every movement pulling your eyes like magnets.

you catch a glimpse of her during a break in play.

she's laughing with her teammates, but when she catches your gaze again, her expression shifts, just for a moment.

like she’s still feeling the same thing you are.

you swallow thickly, trying to get back in the zone, but it’s like you're running in circles, chasing something you can’t quite catch.

the match drags on, the final minutes creeping by.

barcelona’s up 2-0.

the crowd’s starting to lose energy, but you can feel your team pushing, fighting. trying to claw back into this.

then, a miracle.

a ball comes across to you. you hear viv's voice in your head, urging you to take control, to make something happen.

but just as you’re about to move, you see her—alexia—closing in, just like you always used to.

old habits die hard.

you move without thinking, instincts kicking in.

fake one way, then cut left.

the other defender chasing you trips for half a second, and that’s all the space you need.

you're in the clear, for a moment, and everything feels like it’s falling into place.

but then—

the ball’s gone.

in a flash, alexia slides in, intercepting just before you can make your pass.

you barely see her coming, but you feel the hit when she clears the ball away from you.

for one breathless second, time feels like it freezes.

of course. she still knows you just as well.

her eyes lock with yours—those same brown eyes, sharp and unreadable—and all the noise in your head falls away.

there’s nothing left between you but that look, the history, everything unsaid.

you stand there, heart racing, just staring.

she’s still the same alexia—strong, sharp, intense—but there's something more now. something different.

for a second, you forget you’re playing against her.

you forget everything: the game, the score, the rivalry. all of it.

you forget it all.

but then, the whistle blows. the game is over.

barcelona wins.

the roar of the crowd brings you back, and you turn, pulling yourself back into the moment.

you make your way dejectedly off the pitch, but alexia’s face lingers in your thoughts, her every movement replaying in your head.

as you reach the tunnel, you glance over your shoulder.

she's standing there, her teammates around her, but her eyes are locked on you. softer now. almost like she’s waiting for something.

you don’t know how long you stand there, caught between the moment and reality.

the world seems to blur around you.

but then, the noise of the stadium fades, and you find yourself walking toward the locker room, thoughts racing faster than your feet.

10 years ago

you and alexia had always been in sync.

at levante, it felt like everything just clicked—on the pitch, off the pitch.

you could read each other’s movements without a second thought.

passes were seamless, runs were timed perfectly, and the moments you shared after training felt as natural as the game itself.

it was almost like you’d been playing together forever, the connection so strong it pulled you both closer in ways neither of you had expected.

in the beginning, it was easy to fall into each other.

there were quiet evenings spent talking about everything and nothing, laughing over ridiculous things, or just lying together, not needing words to say how much you meant to each other.

everything felt like it was falling into place. the world seemed right when you were with her, like it was always meant to be this way.

but then, the phone call came.

barcelona.

for alexia, it was the opportunity of a lifetime.

the chance to play for one of the biggest clubs in the world, to push herself to the highest level.

it was everything she’d ever worked for.

it was her dream, and she couldn't turn it down. you knew that.

you knew how much this meant to her, how hard she’d fought for it, but it didn't make it any easier.

you both knew this was coming. you had known for some time it was your last season together.

but the reality of her being in barcelona, and you… not with her, was a heavy weight.

“i have to do this,” alexia said one night, her eyes filled with determination but something else too, something harder.

“i can’t let anything distract me. not now. not when everything is finally falling into place.”

you tried to be understanding, but it was hard.

“i get it, i do. but… what about us?”

she paused, eyes softening for just a moment before she spoke again.

“this is bigger than us. i can't afford to divide my focus right now. it’s not fair to you, and it’s not fair to me either.”

the words hit harder than you expected.

it’s not fair to you—it was as though she was saying that this relationship, the one you thought was everything, wasn't important enough to fight for.

the weight of her ambition, her desire to reach the pinnacle of her career, was more than you could ever be.

“so that’s it then?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, but she heard it.

you could see her struggling, torn between what she wanted and the love she had for you.

but there was no denying it—her focus was shifting, and it wasn’t on you anymore.

“i just… i need to focus on this. i need to focus on me.”

her words were gentle, but there was no mistaking the finality in them.

it stung, deeply.

you knew you had your own path, your own career to think about.

arsenal was calling too, and it felt like the universe was pushing both of you in different directions, but it didn’t make it any easier to swallow.

she didn’t want to do long-distance.

she didn’t want to divide herself in a way that made her feel less than whole.

and, in the end, she wasn’t willing to make room for you in that vision. "

i can’t afford to keep looking back," she said. "i need to move forward."

you couldn’t hold onto something that wasn’t there anymore.

her decision was clear, even if you still didn’t understand it fully.

the love, the chemistry, everything you shared—it felt like it wasn’t enough to bridge the gap that had grown between you.

and so, just like that, you both moved on, but not together.

her future in barcelona, your future in arsenal—each heading toward something bigger, but no longer with each other.

the weight of it lingered.

you couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe you weren’t as important as you thought you were.

maybe the love you shared wasn’t enough to keep her tethered, to keep you in her world.

and you wondered, sometimes, if maybe you were just part of the past she was trying to leave behind.

present

later, after all the celebrations, the interviews, and the spotlight’s moved on to the next story, you find yourself standing outside the stadium. alone.

you need air. you need space to think.

and then, out of nowhere, you hear footsteps behind you.

you don’t turn around, but you don’t need to.

you already know who it is.

“y/n.”

it’s the same voice, and it feels like nothing’s changed.

"can we talk?"

you turn to face her.

for a moment, neither of you says anything.

it’s like the weight of years is pressing down on both of you, all the things unsaid hanging in the air.

and then the words you’ve been craving to hear.

“i’m sorry.”

it’s silent for a while. and finally, the question slips out before you can stop it.

“are you still the same person, ale?” once the words leave your lips, you wish you could take them back.

it sounds dumb. pointless, even.

alexia looks at you, a small, bittersweet smile playing on her lips.

“i think we both know the answer to that.”

she takes a step closer, but not too close. giving you space. giving you time.

you don’t know what to say, so you don’t say anything at all.

there’s tension in the air, so thick you can almost taste it.

everything you’ve both been holding back for so long hanging there.

and then, without a word, she pull you into a hug.

it’s not perfect, but it’s something. it's everything you both missed.

all the silence, the years, the distance—it falls away, like it never even mattered.

when you pull back, you finally manage a shaky smile.

“i guess some things don’t change after all.”

“no,” alexia replies, her eyes soft, “i guess not.”

and for the first time in years, everything feels calm again.

maybe the game wasn’t the only thing that needed to be won.

maybe it was you, too.

#alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #alexia putellas imagine #barcelona femeni #barcelona women #woso imagine

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lifenconcepts · 10 hours ago

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1/ Which category of alterhumanity do you belong to?

Hm. Just the umbrella term I prefer but perhaps otherkin in the sense of being some strange conceptkin and Divinekin who calls themselves angelkin over being this sensation of life and fate and existence as a whole.. I’m like- life. Just life. Life-kin, can I just say I’m me? I’m everything. Aaaaughehejjd also wolf therian. Beat me over that but also sometimes caninekin and like .. feeling like dogs depending on whatever mood I’m in and copinglink of a borzoi 💯

2/ What/who is/are your type(s)? sort of answered it in the above but I love lists. From highest relation to least (I vary quite often, and mostly am okay with being human except for a few rare instances and exceptions): Life and existence as a whole, wolf, a mutt/random canine, and.. some muskrat 😿 I love them but how the hell am I litterally a muskrat- OH AND I HAVE HUMAN PAST LIVES but I’m still confused over them. Like, some random guy with a car who loves the nighttime and was treated like shit, uhh.. about 80s/90s and in his 20s- maybe USA or UK, also USSR but not sure if it’s the same guy. Also a butler or someone of the sorts in another, just having a bunch of various strange jobs (or maybe it’s who I want to be.. idk I always struggle with knowing what’s my subconscious or what’s my soul)

3/ Do you experience shifts? If so, can you tell us your most common shifts and your strangest cameo shift (if you've ever had a cameo shift)?

Hm. Mostly mental shifts or something and the vague feeling of being a wolf but have had tail, ear, paw, and full body shifts. Also wings but they’re like random and in no way related to any identity.

4/ How do you experience your alterhumanity in everyday life?

Hm. I forget. Aha forgot- auh just being more understanding to those also like me and more connected to nature on an animalistic level and validating myself in my unusual-ness? Also sometimes craving the simple regressive state of being incoherent but understood, of being one with sensations and instincts but perceived by humans.. hehejdkjdhdhd

5/ What do you think of the community?

very nice! Also very sweet! Understanding of plenty, especially tumblr, but others may be more misinformed and rude elsewhere.. anyways just very sweet, good movement if I can call it that, it’s gained popularity definefely and for the better.

6/ What are the things that make you most comfortable and euphoric in your alterhumanity?

watching documentaries on canines, documentaries on ussr (don’t ask), forests and nature as an absolute whole (especially woodlands), and dog training videos. Fascinates me. Also being seen as a wolf. I used to go around telling people to call me Wolfy as a kid.

7/ Are you experiencing species dysphoria?

nope! Not really, and I find that great :)

8/ What advice would you like to say to a young alterhuman who has just awakened?

trust your instinct and this vague feeling of feeling ‘right’ rather than any set of rules or expectations.

9/ Do you have/want to have gears?

eueuhsgghhwcomplex question. Next! Aha kidding but like.. I want metal claws, and pretty metal gloves over my hand. Whatever that is. Hm perhaps also a wolf mask? Mm.. I don’t really like gear though, too ‘out there’ for me. I got a tail and paws and ears tho, but REALLY want wings— also kinda fucked up I don’t glow. Would drink glow sticks to glow- aha kidding.. unless-

10/ Do you know/have any theories about the origin of your alterhumanity? If so, tell us! (all beliefs are legitimate)

mine specifically? .. evolved from thinking wolves are mad cool then seemingly wanting to be a werewolf then really thinking I could become one (with my varying degrees of wolfness and humanness) then finding splice with being seen as a canine or with one, and turned quickly to ‘yeah I’m a person but being a dog or wolf would be so damn cool’ and searching immensely on caves near me with the idea I would go exploring and find a genie and wish to be a shapeshifter and then live in the forest and convince others I was human then in the privacy of my own presence embrace my instincts and dreams of being a canine and now it’s just. Confusion mixed in with ‘was I faking it??’ feeling and some sense of ‘but i like being human’ even with that same nagging feeling of sometimes just needing to be a dog for a bit to feel content in my skin and maybe it’s something leftover with my soul’s past life that I’ve gotten over or now transformed from being a childhood dream to merely related to the emotional state of freedom and being understood even with my strange behaviours and appearance that likely had been formed through having a nagging sense of not being understood enough even with being genuinely spoilt but trying to convince myself that nobody cared so I could excuse myself if I ever turned to drugs but then just finding ways to love and understand myself and finally realising that I am loved but sometimes my thoughts just aren’t understood because others have different views and then vowing to do my best to understand others and especially folklore creatures even after I- oh, have I went off script a tiny bit? Im wolf enough.

11/ Tag someone/a creature to answer these questions!ㅤᵕ̈

oh I’m an addict for answering this, thank you so much for tagging me! But.. I don’t know who to tag.. anyone who sees this! Perhaps @canines-crown ??

If you are a alterhuman, reblog and answer these questions!

(don't be afraid to write a lot, do what you want ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯)

1/ Which category of alterhumanity do you belong to?

2/ What/who is/are your type(s)? (if you have any)

3/ Do you experience shifts? If so, can you tell us your most common shifts and your strangest cameo shift (if you've ever had a cameo shift)?

4/ How do you experience your alterhumanity in everyday life?

5/ What do you think of the community?

6/ What are the things that make you most comfortable and euphoric in your alterhumanity?

7/ Are you experiencing species dysphoria?

8/ What advice would you like to say to a young alterhuman who has just awakened?

9/ Do you have/want to have gears?

10/ Do you know/have any theories about the origin of your alterhumanity? If so, tell us! (all beliefs are legitimate)

11/ Tag someone/a creature to answer these questions!ㅤᵕ̈

#My eepy ramblings #divine illumination #alterhuman #angelkin #divinekin #conceptkin #wolfkin #dog therian #wolf therian #canine therian #wolf theriotype #canine theriotype #therian things #caninekin #theriotype #therianthropy #therian community #my experiences

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gooobraghhh · 8 hours ago

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I should not be publicly admitting this but it has been making me insane for a bit. Basically I have a very easily recreatable trigger that forcibly puts me in a state of like deep relaxation almost? I go essentially limp and start moving very slowly and weakly while my brain gets super groggy. It’s like I can feel my heart slow down and I just melt into whoever’s hands I’m in. Don’t really have an explanation as to why it happens but the steps towards it are:

1 - Pin me down. Doesn’t have to be a perfect hold, I just need to feel stuck and not able to move much at all until the other steps happen.

2 - Place my ear between your teeth. Just gently keep it there so the threat of it being bitten when I struggle is present. I absolutely hate when my ears are bitten and that in combination with being pinned makes me complacent and still. I think the mental part of accepting I’m trapped is important to this working.

3 - Do something physically pleasurable to me. You can just play with my tits, maybe my clit or if you want to make me crazy you can start fingering me. (My muscles relax which makes me basically unable to resist being penetrated)

4 - Dirty talk. I won’t say what specifically works well on me but In general I’m super sensitive to people talking in my ear and need some kind of dirty talk for this to work.

If all goes well you should feel me go limp as my words start to trail off. Found it out for the first time recently by accident during sex and convinced myself I was doing it on purpose but it just kept happening. It’s really surreal and hard to describe from my perspective. It kind of feels like that therapy exercise where you tense all your muscles and then release or like the really strong feeling of bodily relief you get when you leave a high stress situation. Either way it leaves me super out of it with all I can focus on being your voice and touch. Even when I’m trying to fight back my maximum effort is basically nothing but weak pushes.

My boyfriend has taken to doing it to me anytime I get too arrogant or annoying, usually when I try to dom him and he feels like “showing me my place”. It’s really hot but also really frustrating since there is actually nothing I can do when he does it to me besides get “no no no…. Dont” out of my mouth and then going limp. We stress tested it recently (I kept pissing him off) and I learned the like mental fog gets worse the more he does it. I literally had to ask him if he drugged me because I felt like I was gonna pass out and couldn’t talk without it being a bit slurred. It feels like some hypno concept post I wouldn’t think is real but this has been my life recently and it’s really wild. I can’t think of any reason why a random person couldn’t successfully do it to me which has been making me crazy as a concept.

#I promise more dom stuff after this #trans nsft #t4t nsft #mtf nsft #ftm nsft #mtf sub #hypnok1nk #gooobraghhh text

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xmads-omensx · 2 days ago

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Hi I'm new here so, Can a have something about Noah calming his girl down, when she has a anxiety crisis? Sorry if this is kind weird ou anyting, but sometimes a think about Noah to make me feel better about my anxiety. (Sorry for my english, it' mu secong language)

Word Count: 1,295

Pairing: Noah Sebastian X Reader

Content Warnings: mentions of anxiety, panic attacks, swearing, vague mentions of past trauma, comfort, crying

Tags: @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @lacy1986 @collidewiththesav @kenjipepsi1 @follow-me-down-to-wonderland @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @chey-h @tosoundlessdarkistare @thisbicc @fadingangelwisp

Hi anon! Thank you so much for the request! It was actually quite therapeutic for me to write this since I have recently started struggling with panic attacks. I hope you enjoy!

Panic attacks were nothing new to me. In fact, it was quite rare for me to go any long length of time without having one.

Since meeting Noah, however, my anxiety had been somewhat better. I never really went out alone anymore, so I always had someone to distract me when my anxiety was getting bad. Panic attacks became a scarce occurrence which reduced more and more as our relationship progressed.

Granted, Noah had been taking a break from touring, so he was always just… there.

We hung out all of the time. In fact, it was odd if we weren’t together.

I loved that relationship that we had, but part of me felt guilty about it. Like I was depending on him.

Being near him made me feel at ease. Something that was taken away when he left for tour.

The first couple of days were manageable, but as time ticked by, my anxiety started to kick in again.

It wasn’t like I was having panic attacks left right and centre, but I felt more on edge. Going to supermarkets began to be the most stressful part of my week. I never interacted with people there anyway, so my anxiousness felt unnecessary.

My stress levels increased the longer that Noah was away, and part of me felt guilty about it, which only made things worse.

I shouldn’t need to depend on Noah to keep my anxiety at bay, I needed to learn how to deal with it on my own.

He called me every night and after every show to talk about our days and just spend time together, which was the highlight of my day, but it was still hard being so far away from him. On top of that, our calls got shorter and shorter the more my anxiety took hold of me.

I became paranoid that he would leave me since the calls had been keeping him awake into the early hours of the morning, touring would be easier for him if he didn’t have a girlfriend waiting for him at home, and who would want to be with someone who can barely make it out of the house without freaking out.

In an attempt to break out of this crushing feeling, I invited Jesse out for lunch. We went to a beautiful café that was independently run by a lovely woman called Katie, who was hoping to add a small bookstore to the side of the café since many of her customers just came to the café to read.

Jesse’s ears perked up at the mention of this and he began to ask her questions about the books she liked, clearly flirting, but it was nice seeing him so enthusiastic about something like this. It put me at ease knowing that Jesse was the talkative one, therefore I wouldn’t have to do much other that sit and enjoy my iced tea and blueberry muffin, which were both absolutely divine.

I went to bed that night feeling peaceful, which was something that I hadn’t felt in a very long time.

Noah had called that night, but I was too tired to answer, so instead I sent him a simple text.

I’m too tired to call, but I can’t wait to hear from you tomorrow. I love you.

I awoke refreshed and well-rested which was a feeling that I welcomed with open arms.

My mind and body was freed from any stress or anxiety, which was a rare occurrence since Noah had been on tour.

Getting ready for the day felt even better. I took a long shower before doing my skincare, blow-drying my hair and putting on my makeup. I felt clean. I felt good. Fuck that, I felt amazing.

The only thing missing was a tall, tattooed man wrapping his arms around my waist as I went through the steps of my skincare routine and quizzing me on what each item did.

Shaking that thought from my head before it saddened me, I went about my day.

Jesse was sat on the sofa watching Star Wars whilst making awful lightsaber noises, making me laugh at him as I went to the kitchen to make myself a coffee.

“You got any plans today?” Jesse asked.

“Not really, I was thinking about going shopping. I need some new concealer so I was thinking about heading to Sephora.” I said with a shrug, sipping my warm coffee.

“Can I come?” He asked.

“Yeah of course.” I said with a smile.

Spending time with Jesse had really been my saving grace since Noah was away. He had rapidly become my partner in crime. So much so that we had made as many objects that we could in Noah and Jolly’s home studio upside down, simply because their reaction would be priceless.

“Yes!” Jesse exclaimed, making me laugh.

Once I had finished my coffee, the two of us set out to the shopping mall to spend way too much money, as we usually did.

Our little outing had gone excellently well until we were leaving Sephora.

A girl who looked about nineteen, bumped into me. Granted, it was completely my fault as I was so engrossed in conversation with Jesse that I didn’t see her coming at all.

“Watch where you’re going, dumbass.” She snarled.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry! It’s completely my fault, I wasn’t looking-“ I began to apologise.

“Save it. You’re Noah Sebastian’s girlfriend aren’t you?” She asked with a smirk.

Fuck.

The girl quickly took a photo of Jesse and I before walking away.

“Twitter is going to love it when I post this. Think of the cheating rumours!” She called over her shoulder with an evil smirk as she walked away.

My heart began to race.

Oh no.

Noah was away.

He would see the photos.

Oh shit he’s going to think I’ve actually cheated on him.

With his roommate and friend none the less.

Jesse didn’t say anything, but simply ushered me back to the car park and drove me home, completely ignoring the rest of the day that we had planned.

My body went into shut down.

My eyes stared in front of me.

My breathing quickened, making my chest hurt.

My heart raced.

Oh god.

I was having a panic attack.

I tried to calm myself down by playing Tetris on my phone. It usually helped take my mind off of it.

It didn’t work.

Before I knew it, I was curled up on Noah’s side of the bed with the lights off.

Jesse knew what to do if this happened since Noah had given him a brief crash course, but it wasn’t really helping.

I needed Noah.

Time flew by, or did it crawl by? I couldn’t tell.

Large hands stroked my hair. I could hear a heart beating.

Who was it?

The scent of Dior Sauvage began to fill my nostrils as I looked up and saw Noah’s angelic features looking down at me.

A lone tear escaped my eye as relief washed over me.

He was home.

“Don’t speak baby, just relax.” He whispered. “Jesse called and told me what happened. I was on my way home to see you anyway, so I don’t want you to worry about that. You’re safe. That girl’s post got deleted after Matt and Davis sassed her into deleting it.”

That made me laugh, which made Noah’s delicate smile widen.

“I’ve got you. I’ve always got you.” He whispered.

No matter what happened in my life, Noah would always be my safe space. I felt calm in his arms. I felt at peace, which was becoming rare for me.

As long as I had Noah, I would be okay.

Because he had me.

No matter what.

#bad omens #noah sebastian #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian bad omens #fanfic #noah bad omens #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian one shot #noah sebastian comfort

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theocddiaries · 11 hours ago

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Robotnik: What is this?? [reads the yogurt lid]: Prize for a trip to Amsterdam. Nice! I’ve never won anything! Tails: Oooh, you're so lucky! I'd love to go! Sonic: Yeah… I’ve eaten so many yogurts and never—Hey! That lid is from the yogurt I was eating! The trip is ours. [hugs Tails to celebrate] Robotnik: What do you mean yours? You threw the lid away! Sonic: Yeah, I threw it because it was my dessert! Robotnik: Dessert that my boyfriend sold to you at his café. Sonic: Your boyfriend could sell it to me because my mom lends him half of her shopping until his business picks up. Robotnik: Yeah, but it’s still part of our menu! Sonic: The menu I ordered and paid for! Tails: Oooh, you've been burned! Robotnik: Shut up! If it’s really yours, you shouldn’t have thrown it away! Tails: He threw it away because it was his dessert! Robotnik: Dessert he had at my boyfriend’s café! Tails: Dessert he could only have because— Sonic: Alright, enough! This is like déjà vu. Let’s solve this like civilized people. Now we’re neighbors, even friends on a good day and— [throws himself at Eggman]: Give it to me, it’s mine! [Both struggle with the lid] Robotnik: Pull all you want, rat! I’m not letting go! Sonic: Oh no?? Well, neither am I!!!! It’s Sunday, and I have nothing to do. Tails: Sonic, it’s Monday. Sonic: Whose side are you on?! I said it’s Sunday, and it’s Sunday, damn it!!! [A while later, Shadow is serving customers. Robotnik passes by and pushes him, almost spilling the drink.] Shadow: Sorry! Ivo. Robotnik: What?? This place is cramped. We should kick people out. [gives Sonic a glare, who is still holding the yogurt lid just like him] Sonic [shows him a juice box]: I’m consuming. Robotnik: Yeah, the life of your family… Sonic [gives him a furious look] Shadow: You guys are still on this?? Sonic: Of course. This isn’t about the trip, it’s about all the misdeeds this guy has committed. Robotnik: Okay, yes, I was, I am, and I will be a jerk. But always upfront. Not like you. You act generous but you're selfish deep down. You take a family, you take my hedgehog, and now you want to take my yogurt! Sonic: The yogurt was mine! And the lid too! Knuckles: Why don’t you guys play for it? Tails: That’s a great idea! Sonic: I’m in. Robotnik: Me too. Shadow: And that’ll be the last thing you agree on. See, what are you going to play for? [At the same time] Robotnik: Solitaire. Sonic: Scrabble. But how are we going to play solitaire, you idiot?! Scrabble, period. Robotnik: See, see?! It’s always whatever he says!!! Knuckles: Well, let’s have an innocent hand decide. Tails: Wow, Knuckles, two good ideas in one hour. Knuckles: Heh, I don’t like to brag, but I’ve started reading. I’m happy to inform you that Teo does go to the zoo, and he had fun. Robotnik: Yeah? If that made you so happy, imitate him. With a bit of luck, they’ll let you live there…

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vifilms · 2 days ago

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i’m sick as fuck. ennalove, you’ve really outdone yourself with this one. the master of imagery, this solidified it. mel may have been the painter but you have illustrated this story so vividly with your strong affirmations of grace and love. the tone for this story beat the same with each word. all of it cohesive, every sentence tied to the next. truly, there’s never a time where i don’t enjoy your work.

seeing sevika painted in such a wonderful light, a soft light with comforting hues but you can still feel the rawness of everything and everyone she’s most. even if it is for the greater good and for the people of zaun, her home has changed — her life has changed. to show that struggle in the beginning, the push and pull of the tide, there’s the intertwine of canon into something even deeper. from an emotional standpoint, you seriously always knock sevika out of the park. i can hear her thoughts, i feel what she feels, her pain is as close to my heart as it is to hers. it’s intimate. i don’t think people understand how hard it is to execute that in writing. a numbing emotion can often feel thoughtless but there’s full intentionality in this and it’s felt in every word. the entire time i was reading this i just craved for more. the worlds you create in your work are stellar, sevika’s feelings don’t get lost in the shuffle and you can quite literally feel everything about them.

she’s wounded, hard but soft around the edges, she’s lost so much, and she’s ridiculed for things out of her control. the way your write sevika feels real and tangible. a woman who no longer has a home but has her heart beat for zaun and the cause she believes in even if she’s surrounded by people who don’t understand it. and they might never, and there’s heartbreaking tangibility in that feeling. it’s something all of us feel consistently. in some aspect, we can’t control circumstances out of our grip, all we can do is take our best foot forward.

…..but melvika.

the imagery and analogies between the stars and what they mean to each other? fucking amazing. how sevika says the stars is the only think she likes but then saying mel is the first person who is kind to her, the first person who appreciates her and the knowledge she has to offer. mel is sevika’s star and vice versa. maybe it’s just me but i’m just a sucker for people from completely different lives and coming together and all of it just works. it shouldn’t, it couldn’t, but somehow it does.

“yeah and there are so many of them, and it’s like every time you see them you’re seeing a completely different sky. and they’re cool because they only come out at night when they think nobody can see them, it’s like they’re shy. but i always see them because i’m always awake with them.” she rambles.

oh yes. this shit is so fucking good. the foreshadowing. always being present with one you love, and also — i always see them because i’m always with them — there’s so much weight in this line. there’s a thousand different ways it can be interpreted. personally it’s someone like sevika, being reserved, shy, or even cautious, not wanting to be seen or perceived because it’s never ended out well for yourself but when someone does for the first time, it’s the most beautiful thing to experience. what’s that saying? to be seen is to be loved. that’s what this little section screams to me. when someone loves you for the first time, not for a version of yourself you think you are or someone wants you to be, but they love you for you. it’s humbling, it aches, it’s more than overwhelming, but there’s nothing else like it in the world.

there’s true submission in love, and that’s where trust and partnership can blossom and grow, and that’s exactly how this fic made me feel. like there’s a blossom of hope on the other side of the tunnel. the people we love waiting on the other side for us. ready to restore a faith in humanity that we’ve lost.

always exquisite, enna. thank you for always challenging the way i write, making me see the craft in a different lense. it’s so hauntingly beautiful. as if a surgeon can suture a cracked heart back together just because they will it so. ennabear, your talent is always a pleasure to witness. i love your work so much. never stop, ever.

♡

✴︎ —PAINT THE AGES A HUNDRED SHADES OF GOLD ⊹₊⟡⋆

I DON’T WANNA TALK ABOUT LOVE ANYMORE ‘CAUSE IT’S GETTING TOO MUCH FOR ME …

cw: councilor!sevika x painter!mel, sevika is a lil sad and mean but she gets over it, sevika is also kind of a loser who can’t stop talking when she gets drunk, jinx and isha mentions because i’m evil and we know this, mel paints sevika nude, body worship, lots of comfort, oral sex, 18+

word count: 7.3k

it’s been months since sevika’s big move, and she fucking hates it to say the least.

all of these pilties are stuck up, even more than she remembers. which is a lot. she’s exhausted, she questions why she’s even a part of the council if all they do is ignore her. showing up every day and listening to them talk about her home and her people the way they do makes her sick.

they draft plans to raid the markets, shutting down anyone who isn’t licensed to be selling meat or rice or bread, but they refuse to let anyone get a license to sell those things. of course, she’s glad that she gets to eat three meals a day now, but with every bite she takes, she’s reminded of her home, and how starving they must be over there.

no matter how much she fights back, offers up a real plan that could make peace between the rivaling nations, they all just snicker and point fingers at her like she’s some sort of circus act.

and don’t ask her about how much she likes being called councilor sevika, because she doesn’t like it at all. she’s not a councilor, and maybe that’s a good thing, because it’s the last thing she’d ever wanna be.

still, she keeps her emotions under control. this is a huge opportunity to help get zaun on it’s feet and cut ties with piltover officially, she won’t spoil it by making a scene and giving up. no matter what, she’s gonna make an effort, even if it means being locked in a room with a group of rich pigs who’ve never felt that growing pit of hunger in their stomachs that make them so dizzy that they keel over on the streets.

that they die on the streets.

so yeah, it’s not easy, not even a little bit.

most of her nights are spent alone in her room. it’s nice, “small” compared to the rooms everyone else occupies, but still bigger than any house she’s ever seen in the undercity. it has large windows that let every bit of light in, but it’s still eerily dark at night compared to zaun.

in zaun, there are neon lights and buzzing street lamps that glow and flicker at every hour, so when it gets dark, the colorful lights bounce off of every inch of the city. you can see them in the reflections of the puddles, bright streaks of light flying up into the night from behind buildings and stretching until they’re out of sight.

here, in piltover, they have different kinds of lights. tiny, white holes in the sky called stars that shine when it gets dark. they have spotlights and statues and lanterns, but it gets lonely at night. everyone is at home, distancing from their friends and their jobs, getting sleep and resting up for whatever the next day will bring.

there isn’t really any rest in zaun, just a small wink of sleep whenever you catch it, and you’re up again. everyone’s grouchy and hungry and cold, but it makes for good shimmer sales, and the bar is a great place to find refuge when you need a break from it all.

so sevika sleeps with all of her lights on. an attempt to remind her of home— although her home doesn’t have a queen sized bed, fluffy pillows and soft blankets, lamps, alarm clocks, fireplaces, clean water on their nightstands, and stars that shine through their windows.

the stars might be her favorite part about piltover. probably the only good thing about piltover. she doesn’t really know what they are or what they do, but they’re nice to look at late at night when she can’t manage to sleep.

every time she finds herself staring up at them, she sends a prayer or two up to janna. always one for the people, a prayer that even though they pretend to hate each other, and there sure are a few goons who are ready to slit her throat for never paying them back, she hopes they’re okay.

she hopes that ran and theiram have got the bar under control, that vi and ekko manage to keep the chaos limited, and most of all, that jinx and isha are doing alright.

ever since silco died, her whole world was flipped upside down and shaken vigorously. who knew that someday she’d be missing jinx? but she does. she cries at night for the blue haired girl, praying for her safety and her happiness, hoping that she’s managed to keep some of her creativity after everything that went down.

and of course for the more tolerable blue haired kid, isha.

she prays that isha is still attached at the hip to jinx, that her fluffy hair gets dyed that awful bright blue color as often as she wants it to, that she’s found some way to communicate with the world while her voice is at rest.

she’s got no clue as to where they could be. one second, she’s wishing jinx would leave her alone. that she’d pack up her inventions and make a home for them far away from sevika’s life. the next second, they’re gone. no warning, no heads up whatsoever, just completely taken from her life.

but if she wishes to find any wisp of happiness, she’s gonna have to push these thoughts to the back of her mind, only letting them front when she’s alone and awake and accompanied by the stars. they’re the only things who understand her.

——

if you listen closely, you might be able to hear the sound of mel’s thoughts buzzing around in her mind.

the past few months have given her some intense whiplash, but things are finally starting to straighten out. her life isn’t exactly normal, but she’s growing used to her… new self.

she spends most of her time perched at her easel, painting the canvas in beautiful colors that fall over various people or places. it’s therapeutic for her, whatever image or question or anger she has lingering in her head, she can work it out with the paints. when she’s done, she lines them up in front of her.

it helps her see things more clearly, like a thought that can’t float away, frozen in time for her to analyze further. some of them are just plain colors. gold, with white, yellow, and bronze streaks, an attempt to recreate the swirls that are painted on her own body.

sometimes she paints her mother, her eyebrows lowered in a scowl and her silvery gray hair crowning her head. jayce and viktor occasionally make an appearance, both of their faces lost in thought as they stare at various equations and formulas that she can’t quite make out.

sometimes she just sees miscellaneous things, quick visions that she needs to bring to life. countless canvases are covered in black, with that dark red fog reaching into it like vines. there’s also the hextech that makes the occasional appearance, but she can’t quite get that bright, rich blue color right.

a few times before, she’s attempted portraits, but she doesn’t prefer them. lest has been one of her closest friends during all of this, she can sit and pose for hours while mel works away at her figure on the canvas. they’ve also tried painting together, but mel prefers her alone time.

she’s tried recreating the pictures from her memory, but it never comes out as well. she covers the canvas in thick paint, a bronze, brown, and white, making up jayce’s features. but she always clouds his face with shiny white webs, and those glistening, rainbow stars. the ones that stole him away.

while she sits, her body stays stagnant, eyes racing around the blank canvas. she mixes the colors in her head before she even opens the tubes, her eyes proportion it all for her, so she rarely makes sketches anymore.

recently, she’s been more interested in staying in and shutting out the world. the occasional knock rings out against her door, but she can’t be bothered to investigate. she doesn’t wanna give her opinions anymore, doesn’t wanna lead all of topside to peace and gas the streets of the undercity. really, she never signed up for that. sure, she’s ambessa’s daughter, but she doesn’t care to be a leader anymore. not when all it does is get people hurt and killed.

but apparently it’s urgent this time, because the knocking persists.

“um, mel?” a timid voice asks. “i hate to bother you, but the council requires yo—”

she flings the door open, clad in her white robe and slippers. her hood hangs halfway over her head as she glares at the man, but he insists on escorting her to the council meeting. her feet gently pad against the floor as she walks through the long halls, already dreading having to play referee for a group of adults who should know better.

but ambessa is gone now, and these people need someone to give them any sort of direction.

the dome shaped room welcomes her, and although she dreads being there, the sun shining through the stained glass is gorgeous. she spies a few familiar faces sitting in their respective seats, and notices some new ones who were added after the war.

“but they need the money!” one councilor booms, one of the newer ones who mel doesn’t quite recognize yet. “you can’t just cut their funds and raise the tax prices, they—”

“councilor sevika, please.” someone says, talking over her voice. “what possibly could they need more money for? our city needs to be rebuilt, and it’s them who’s caused all of this destruction.”

mel observes quietly, noticing the tears that fill sevika’s eyes. she makes an assumption that they’re either out of sadness, anger, or exhaustion, but she can’t quite tell. one thing she does know, though, is that it isn’t fair.

it’s not fair to just drag a zaunite up to topside and force her to be the only one representing her nation. especially when she has to be locked in a room full of people who hate her, who think she’s nothing more than just undercity trash to mock and make fun of.

mel’s surprised that sevika has held her ground for this long. if that were her, she’d want to pack up and leave within a day, especially when she notices the snorts and sideways glances that she gets every time she opens her mouth.

“have you even been down there?” sevika asks. “have you seen the bodies lying on the streets? have you heard the sobs of the starving children?”

they all look at her, unable to imagine what hunger even is, much less an entire nation overcome by it. shoola offers a sympathetic frown, but it’s not enough for sevika. she’s exhausted, and the thought of seeing her home even more impoverished is killing her. worst of all, word on the street is that zaunites are beginning to call her a traitor.

she wishes that they could see how hard she’s working, how much she’s fighting for them behind the scenes. but she can’t exactly blame them, it must be hard to watch every leader they’ve ever had either fail at leading them to sovereignty or turn their backs on the people. must be worse to watch someone who they thought was on their side disappear into the council and watch as things just keep getting worse and worse down there.

and this makes sevika feel horrible.

it’s hard for her not to blame herself for this, especially because that’s what she’s used to. her job for years was to be silco’s right hand, so it was constantly her fault if something went wrong. that’s just how things are. if things don’t go her way, it must be her fault for not working harder to overcome it.

“i agree.” mel says plainly. “councilor sevika has firsthand knowledge of what it’s like for them, why shouldn’t we trust her?”

sevika is taken aback at this. she’s never seen someone so… rich looking… be this understanding toward her. but although it’s the bare minimum, she appreciates it. she’ll take whatever form of kindness she can get right now.

the other councilors stare at mel like she’s just grown three heads. obviously, they’ve never been told no a day in their life. sevika is glad that she gets to be present for the first time. some of them sputter and growl, some of them roll their eyes, but sevika just sinks back into her chair and decides to let them argue it out.

“i agree too.” councilor shoola says. “it’s only fair… unless, any of you would like to go down there and experience it for yourselves? then you could tell us all about their excess of funds.”

sevika sighs in relief, thanking janna or the universe or whatever god decided to help her out. she can’t exactly smile, at least not yet, but she manages a tiny grin, and decides that maybe she shouldn’t feel too bad about herself just yet.

mel is glad that sevika and shoola have at least a little bit of brains, but she’s starting to rethink having all of the others on the council. maybe they need to fire some, or at least add some more zaunites to level the playing field. although, she now knows that sevika can put up one hell of a fight, so maybe she doesn’t need it.

but the clock strikes two in the afternoon, and the councilors file out to get on with their day until they meet again tomorrow. sevika hangs back, waiting for everyone to leave before she returns to her office. but mel hangs back too, determined to talk to sevika more, to get to know her.

sevika pulls her cape over her shoulders, completely covering her figure before she exits the room. mel perks up and shoots her a questioning look.

“yes?” sevika asks.

“you’re brave.” mel says.

“no i’m not. d’you think it’s brave of me to leave my people starving and helpless down there while i have a real home and three meals a day?”

mel just stares blankly at her. that isn’t what she meant at all, but at the same time, she’s completely right. as much as she still believes that sevika is brave for putting up with the councilors, she should be calling everyone else brave, everyone in zaun who goes days without food. sevika is the luckiest of them all.

“that’s not what i meant.” mel explains. “i meant that you’re better than them because you stand your ground instead of just getting everything you want. you work hard for what you earn.”

sevika shrugs. “i guess you could say that.”

“do you miss it down there?”

“what do you think?” sevika grunts.

“i’d bet that you do, you just try not to show it in front of anyone.”

“yes, because showing weakness gets you killed.”

“not up here, it doesn’t. you should open up a little, it might be good for you.” mel suggests.

“i’ll pass.”

“i could help you.”

“i don’t need—”

“let me help you.” mel says, reaching out to grab sevika’s hand.

“help me how?” sevika asks.

“open up to me. tell me about your life. friends, family, past, anything.”

“okay… maybe.”

“okay, good.”

——

sevika has never been great at opening up to anyone, but mel is… understanding. as much as she hates to talk about her struggles to other people, mel is probably the best possible person to talk to. mel marched herself down sevika’s hall to her door, banging on it until sevika sleepily presented herself. she marched sevika down the hall and through the building until they reached her own suite, and she fed sevika more and more wine until she started to talk to her.

it started with just a confession. sevika was wine drunk and admitted that yes, she did miss her home, and that she hated topside. and then mel pressed for more, made her tell her specifically who she missed and what she missed about them.

the list of people who she missed was never ending. at the top— jinx and isha. in all honesty, mel is shocked to learn that sevika had anyone that she really considered family, much less a daughter or a niece. but sevika tells her all about them, how isha would beg to paint her nails or dye her hair, and how jinx finally had a sister who she could play with, instead of just being too young to do anything.

but when mel asks where they’ve gone, sevika freezes. she doesn’t know, and it’s not something she prefers to think about. dead is something she’d heavily considered, but that ending makes her too sad. as long as she doesn’t know that they’re dead, they’re not. at least not in her world.

she tells mel that she hopes they’re somewhere safe, somewhere that they can have fun together. like floating on a cloud, or living in outer space with the stars. maybe they are with the stars, and that’s why she loves them so much.

“you like the stars?” mel asks.

“that’s the only thing actually worth liking about this place, i think…” sevika slurs drunkenly.

“hmm, i guess they are pretty, aren’t they.” mel ponders.

mel can’t help but giggle. again, everything she said is exactly right, but she’s never seen it that way. sevika offers her a fresh new perspective, one that makes her ponder how much she knows about the world.

“sorry…” sevika whispers, suddenly aware that she’s drunkenly blabbering and probably making a fool of herself. she tries to blink herself sober but it doesn’t work.

“no worries. i like them too.” mel soothes.

“i think i should go.”

“already?” mel asks.

“it’s gett’n late. i have places to be tomorrow…” sevika sighs. mel stands and walks her to the door, grabbing on gently to her human arm in an attempt to stabilize the woman. she offers a sweet smile to sevika as she leaves, even takes her hand in her own for a second and squeezes it tightly, but sevika just stares at the floor.

“mel?” she asks finally, although in a timid voice.

“yes?”

“thanks for sticking up for me. i don’t know what those pigs would get up to without people like me and you.”

mel’s heart warms at this. sevika is so drunk that she’s starting to get sappy and sweet, and while it’s adorable, it’s clear that she needs to get home. but she’s glad that her effort isn’t going unnoticed, and she’s starting to really like sevika.

“of course.” she smiles again. “get some sleep for me, okay? don’t spend too much time with the stars.”

sevika curses herself for the warm feeling that wraps herself all around her, she hates that she’s being vulnerable and making friends. she just blames the feeling on the alcohol, but she knows that it’s not. because that light, warm feeling clings itself to her every time she sees mel.

it happens again when they coincidentally cross paths, mel on her way outside for some fresh air and sevika on her way to her room to sign papers until her fingers bleed. but she realizes for the first time that mel is so beautiful. she hasn’t spotted sevika yet, but the sunlight glowing in from the windows catches her golden streaked skin perfectly, and she’s shining. it’s like she’s a real life star, and sevika can’t peel her eyes away.

“oh, hi sevika.” mel grins.

“um… hi.” she responds, her heart suddenly beating faster than usual. “where are you going?”

“just outside. been cramped up inside all day and the smell of my paints are starting to give me a headache.”

“you paint?” sevika asks, although to anyone else the answer would be obvious.

“yeah, all the time. i’d love to show you someday.” she offers, already knowing that she’s gonna have to drag sevika by the arm and force her to visit.

“okay… yeah, that would be nice.” she says.

“what are you doing right now?” mel asks.

“i just have a lot of paperwork to fill out, letters to write, things to sign, you know how it is.”

“will you stop by later, then?”

“are you gonna make me?”

“probably. if you don’t show up by yourself.”

“alright, see you later then.”

——

sevika is dreading this outing. the more times she thinks about going back over to mel’s, the more anxious she gets. every time she’s been over there the past month, she’s ended up either drunk or blabbering on about stuff that doesn’t matter. or worse— drunk and blabbering. she always finds some way to make a fool of herself, and she doesn’t know how to stop. she just wishes it wasn’t so easy to open up to her, wishes that mel wasn’t so damn likable.

mel already knows she’s gonna have to drag sevika over to come look at her paintings. she always does. no matter how many times she tells the woman to come on her own terms, she finds herself stomping down to sevika’s door and forcing her to hang out. it’s cute, in mel’s mind, it’s like a date. so that’s what she finds herself doing tonight. cleaning up her suite a little, spinning one of her jazz records, and marching down to collect sevika.

she’s arranged her paintings in no particular order, but the array is beautiful. some are framed, some are smaller than others, some of them aren’t even finished. sevika feels so moved by this. she’s never seen anything so beautiful. not anything in real life, not mel herself, not even the stars are as beautiful as her paintings.

mel sits her down on the loveseat, pouring two glasses of wine and sitting down next to sevika, but sevika begs her to talk about her paintings. she’s dying to know how anyone could make anything look more beautiful than the stars. mel blushes at that compliment— it’s a lot coming from sevika for multiple reasons— but she decides that now it’s her turn to open up.

they sit an chat for hours, and before long, sevika feels as if she knows mel like the back of her hand. she now knows about jayce and viktor and what happened to them, about ambessa, her mother, the noxians, and the rest of her family. sevika’s oddly surprised. of course, she’s aware that mel is probably the strongest woman she knows, but she never would’ve guessed that she’s been through that much.

mel cries a bit, and sevika cries too, and they laugh about their emotions like old friends. for once in her life, sevika feels like maybe not everything sucks, and that maybe it’s okay to let herself fall for someone. she just hopes that mel feels the same way.

“sevika?” mel asks, still catching her breath after a fit of giggles.

“yeah?” she smiles.

“will you dance with me?”

“i don’t dance.” sevika says, laughing at the image of her dancing with someone. how silly.

“aww, come on! it’s just us and some jazz! you’ll be fine.” she reasons. “please?”

sevika rolls her eyes at mel’s outstretched hand, but she’s very tipsy and in a good mood, so how could she say no to the beautiful woman standing in front of her?

mel yanks her up by her arm, and sevika wastes no time following after her to the middle of the room where the big sky lights let the stars shine in. sevika scowls and tenses up a bit, but mel wraps her arms around sevika’s waist so gently, guiding sevika’s arm to press against her back. mel sways them back and forth a bit, and sevika soon loosens up and stares down at mel with a smile that puts all of the stars to shame.

“do you ever miss your arm?” mel asks.

“yeah, sometimes. i miss the one jinx made for me, i wish i didn’t take it for granted.” she responds, her mood quickly turning sad against her will.

“i could have one made for you.” mel offers.

sevika shakes her head and flattens her lips into a straight line. “they won’t let me have one on the council.”

it’s mel’s turn to roll her eyes now. “no, i’ll make you one that they’ll accept. they always listen to me, you know.” she grins.

“i guess that would be alright, as long as it’s not much of a hassle.”

“for you? nothing’s a hassle. don’t be silly.”

sevika’s eyebrows pull together in the middle and she pouts, tears quickly filling her eyes. nobody’s ever been this nice to her before. offering her a new limb, protection from the ruthless comments from the council, good wine, and a dance underneath the stars. she can’t help but cry, but she’s not afraid to anymore. with mel, she feels safe enough to be this vulnerable.

mel notices her sad expression, and she silently prays that she didn’t accidentally offend sevika, it’s the last thing she’d ever wanna do. “oh, what’s wrong? did i—”

sevika cuts her off with a kiss. she doesn’t wanna hear any apologies from mel, not after she’s been a literal angel to sevika this past week. mel’s lips are warm and welcoming, they taste sweet, like if gold was a flavor. she reaches her hands up and cradles the back of mel’s head, deepening the kiss.

mel is completely taken aback by this. she didn’t know that sevika had feelings for her. actually, she thought that sevika was sick of her. but she kisses sevika back, her lips are big and pouty and oh so soft. she also gets to feel sevika’s piercing up close, and the cold metal drags against the bottom of her lips ever so slightly. it’s a stark contrast, but a comforting one at that.

one thing leads to another, and they’re quickly back on the loveseat, lapping at each others tongues and giggling like kids and holding hands. sevika’s had tons of sex before, sure, but nothing comes close to this. she feels so special, so cared for, that she notices this strange, giddy feeling bubbling up in her chest.

little does she know, that feeling is called love.

she pins mel down to the seat, both of them breathless and high on this mysterious feeling— although it definitely has something to do with the liquor— and sevika almost cries again when mel spreads her legs beneath her white gown. the warm lamplight mixed with the starlight causes her to glow again, like she’s on fire, so sevika can’t help but kiss all over the gold patterns that paint her skin.

mel erupts into another fit of giggles, holding sevika’s shocked face in her hands. sevika tenses up slightly at her touch, but takes a deep breath and swallows all of her anxiety.

“can i?” sevika asks.

mel smiles and nods. “of course. you can do whatever you want to me.”

sevika shudders and reaches up mel’s dress, caressing her stomach and hips. mel is soft and malleable under her touch, and she’s golden. she reaches forward to tug her dress above her hips. sevika doesn’t think she’s ever seen such a beautiful sight, and mel absolutely adores sevika’s awestruck face.

the same golden markings that paint her face also trail down her abdomen, all the way to her ankles. there are thick streaks of gold that mirror each other on each side of her torso, twisting themselves into swirls and shapes. she also has small golden freckles littering her body, identical to the ones on her face. they look like stars.

best of all, as if sevika wasn’t already turned on enough, she has small, golden hairs that trail down from just beneath her belly button, only stopping when they crown her dripping hole. this woman is made of pure magic, and if sevika doesn’t get her mouth on her within the next millisecond, she thinks she might faint.

mel grabs sevika’s hand when she notices her hesitation, and this makes her snap back into the moment and start eating mel out. she starts slow, just some teasing, soft licks to her clit that make her shiver. mel moans so sweetly and beautifully and sevika feels like she’s floating.

sevika grips mel’s hand harder and harder as she keeps eating her out, and it’s times like these that she wishes she has two hands. one to hold mel’s with, and one to feel inside of her, pumping her full of her thick fingers. mel arches her back and thrusts up into sevika’s face, and they both nearly cum on the spot.

she pulls back for a second, a string of white slick connecting itself to sevika’s lips before dripping down her chin.

“sev, you’re doing so good, baby.” mel praises. “don’t stop, i’m so close.”

sevika speeds up her movements, determined to make mel cum. her big, silver eyes squeeze shut as her mouth works it’s magic, sucking on her clit and running her pointed tongue between mel’s folds to collect her slick.

but she doesn’t cum until sevika wraps her lips around her clit again, her piercing colliding with mel’s throbbing clit as she tips over the edge. a low whine is pulled from her throat, and sevika pulls back to admire the woman above her. mel yanks sevika up by her shirt, thanking her with a deep kiss. some of sevika’s lipstick is smudged, so mel wipes it off with her thumbs, as well as the wet slick that’s smeared all over her face.

sevika is suddenly very aware that she doesn’t need shimmer anymore, because she feels like mel’s sweet nectar is enough to get her high.

“i’m gonna need that new arm as soon as you can get it.” sevika says with her lips smashed against mel’s. “need to show you what else i can do.”

——

it’s been three weeks since then, and sevika’s been coming over every night. she still has lots of work to do, but mel helps her with all of it. they sort through tall stacks of paperwork, taking turns sitting on the others lap and pouring each other more wine. sometimes they get distracted with sex, but they try their hardest to stay focused. occasionally mel will bring out her paints and work on something new, forcing sevika to stay focused while she’s at work.

they also spend their mornings together. if they don’t wake up in the other’s arms, they’ll sleepily march down to their door and bang on it until they reunite and hold each other again.

but this morning, sevika wakes up in mel’s bed alone. she reaches out for the woman with her arm, but that side of the bed is just cold and empty. sitting up, she glances around the room until she spies mel in her silky white cloak painting on the balcony.

“mel?” she asks groggily. “why’re you up so early?”

“just had to finish something, love.” she responds, smiling at her girlfriend’s half awake state. “you can go back to sleep if you’d like.”

“can i at least see what you’re working on?”

“not yet.” she smiles. “it’s a surprise.”

sevika groans and turns around to go back inside, but mel catches her arm and yanks her back for a kiss. sevika kisses over each of mel’s golden freckles, and then her lips, then her nose, her forehead, chin, and then lips again, before returning inside. mel giggles and tries to swat sevika’s back before she gets away, but she’s too slow and the effort is wasted.

back inside, sevika grabs onto mel’s pillow and stuffs her face into it, bringing a familiar comfort that lulls her back to sleep. she’s shaken awake a few hours later, though. it’s mel, very gently rattling sevika’s shoulder while caressing her hair. “sevika, babe, wake up.” she whispers.

“mmmmh?”

“i have a present for you.”

“hmmmm?”

“wake up so you can open it.”

“ughhhhh.”

“oh, please. don’t be so pouty. i want you to see it! quickly, quickly!” she urges, yanking sevika back to the balcony. the sun is slightly higher in the sky now, some of the orange in the sky is still fading away but the sky is painted in a light yellow color, it matches mel a little bit.

she hands her a giant white box with mel’s name on it, a small golden bow sitting directly on the top. “what is this?” sevika asks.

“open it and see!” mel smiles.

so she does. she flips the lock on the box and pulls it open, a smooth, golden arm staring back at her.

“what is this?” sevika asks again, this time in disbelief. she couldn’t tell how serious mel was about acquiring a new arm for her, so she didn’t think she’d be receiving a new one this quickly, or one this pretty.

it’s a lot more modern compared to her other two arms that she’s had in the past. it has a matte gold casing all around it, with shimmery gold patterns that resemble mel’s carved into it. it has all five fingers, but they’re not as pointy, more resembling her human fingers than her past arms. sevika is overcome with emotions, and she turns around to pull mel in for a hug, hiding her tears on her shoulder.

“do you like it?” mel asks.

“i love it.”

“will you teach me how to put it on you?”

“of course.” sevika promises, and with that, mel tugs her inside and makes her sit and show her. it takes a bit of fumbling. sevika isn’t great at explaining things, but she also can’t do much with only one arm, so lots of trial and error occurs during the process. but eventually it’s all screwed in, and the first thing sevika does is pull mel in for a real hug.

mel never really realized how strong sevika is, and how crushing her hugs are. at least, not until now. she knows that sevika can hold her somewhat tightly, but one arm doesn’t do much. now that she as two arms though, mel is struggling to breathe with the way sevika is crushing her. or maybe it’s just because sevika wants to show her girlfriend some love. and she’s definitely not crying.

“i have one more thing.” mel says, although most of it gets muffled by sevika’s chest.

“what is it?” she asks.

“come outside and look.”

sevika follows her outside, grabbing onto mel’s elbow with her new hand.

“close your eyes.” mel says, so sevika squeezes her eyes shut and tries her hardest not to peek. mel dashes over to retrieve the painting on her canvas that’s now fully dry, and then she holds it to face sevika.

“okay, now open them.”

she opens her eyes to see mel holding one of her new paintings— the one she wasn’t allowed to see yet. but now she’s aware of why she wasn’t allowed to see it, because the painting is of her.

it’s sevika. hunched over at mel’s desk with her reading glasses on and a pen in her hand, a glass of wine half empty on the table next to her. the colors in the painting are very warm, likely resembling the warm lamps that decorate mel’s suite. and the most surprising thing— there’s a smile on sevika’s face.

it’s not something she’s ever seen on herself before. for one, she’s never been one to smile in general, it’s just not something she was ever used to doing. photographs are also very rare in zaun, so the only way she could’ve seen it on herself is by smiling in front of a mirror, which is even more rare.

sevika doesn’t even know how to feel. she should cry, because nobody has ever been this kind to her before, and she’s overwhelmed with emotions from the arm, the painting, and just being around mel.

she should also be happy. nobody has ever understood her as much as mel does, and she feels so honored to be seen in her artistic lense. she should be glad that she gets to live up here, where everything is safe and pretty and valuable. she’s also still half asleep, and can’t exactly tell if she’s dreaming or not.

“what do you think?” mel asks after a while.

“i don’t know what i did to deserve this.” sevika says honestly. “is there some kind of special occasion that i don’t know about? or are you just spoiling me.”

“well, mostly the latter,” mel laughs. “but it is our one month anniversary, if that counts for anything.”

“i didn’t get you anything.” sevika frowns, suddenly feeling way out of mel’s league, almost insecure.

“that’s alright.” mel smiles. “your presence is enough.”

sevika rolls her eyes and manages a smile too, yanking mel forward and giving her a sweet kiss. one month isn’t much, but it’s been the happiest month of sevika’s life, and things are starting to look up for her. for zaun, too.

“well,” mel starts, pulling away from sevika’s lips. “there is one small thing you could do for me.”

“and that is…?”

“model for me so i can paint you?” she asks with a happy shrug of her shoulders.

“now? but you just painted me.”

“yes, i’m aware.” she laughs. “but i haven’t painted your new arm yet, and that was from a few days ago but you just look so adorable today. please?”

sevika smiles too. how could she say no to mel when she asks so nicely? “alright, fine.” she agrees.

“good, and take all of your clothes off, too.”

sevika freezes. although mel has seen her naked hundreds of times, she suddenly feels shy.

“don’t worry, it’s just for us.” mel soothes. “lay on the bed and i’ll position you.”

so sevika is left no choice but to follow the orders she was given. she strips herself of her clothes— which is much easier now that she has two arms— and lays down on the bed, looking up at mel with her big, watery eyes. mel walks over and pushes her backward until she’s propped up with just one elbow.

“is this comfortable?” mel asks.

“uh… y-yeah.” sevika responds.

mel pries sevika’s legs open, positioning them apart so that she has a full view of sevika’s dripping cunt from her easel. sevika whimpers, her eyes widening and sparkling as she looks up at mel.

“don’t be shy.” mel teases. “it’s just me.”

“i know, sorry…” sevika says with a sigh, making a mental note to loosen up.

“are you ready for me to start? we’re probably gonna be here all day.”

“yeah. ready.” sevika responds.

“okay, let me know if you need a break.”

mel isn’t too fond of painting from models, but she can feel her opinion changing as she sculpts sevika with the paint. her legs are easy. long and thick, and she gets to mimic the way they’re pressed open.

her torso is next, which is one of her favorite things about sevika. her abs are hard and sturdy, but they get slightly softened out by the rolls of her stomach. then mel moves up to her tits, painting two perfectly pointed brown circles accented with thick, dark nipples.

her neck comes after, and then her arms, and finally her face. mel has memorized every little expression sevika has, so she has a lot to choose from, but she chooses the one that sevika is wearing right now. a goofy, lovestruck smile, adorned with a slight blush sparkling on her cheeks.

her eyes are also fun, they’re so big and sparkly and metallic, mel can’t help but paint stars in them. and of course, her nose, her tooth gap, her piercing, and her hair. they all come together to make up the most perfect face that mel has ever seen.

she moves on to the arms next, painting one with her thick muscles and her warm brown skin, and the other with a shiny gold. her shoulders are slightly slanted, and they have bite marks and hickeys carved into them, which makes mel immensely proud of herself.

and finally, sevika’s glistening cunt. she paints each fold tenderly, a small circle at the top covered slightly by a thin, fleshy hood. she paints the slick in between her thighs that just keeps collecting with her finest white and silver paints.

and of course, her bush, because she wouldn’t dare to forget it. she curls each stroke of her brush until it perfectly mirrors sevika’s thick, dark curls, and then she trails them all the way up her lower stomach.

she finishes the background next, but it’s not much. she doesn’t want anything to take away from sevika’s beauty. but she makes sure to add a few stars surrounding her of various sizes and shades of gold.

sevika has been surprisingly patient throughout the whole thing, mel predicted that she’d be begging for snacks only ten minutes in. but mel finishes quickly and she’s beaming with excitement as soon as she’s done.

“do you wanna see it?” she asks.

“you’re done already?” sevika replies.

“yeah. you’re an easy model.”

“okay, yeah, let me see.” sevika smiles.

mel lifts up the canvas and presents it to sevika, and it’s somehow even more beautiful than the other painting. mel captures her so beautifully, sevika is so honored to be viewed that way. for the first time in her life, she truly feels beautiful. and mel can tell that she feels that way too, through the tears that threaten to spill in her eyes.

and just as sevika is about to tackle mel to the bed too, she notices something in the bottom corner. in a shimmery gold writing, the words “my star. -mel m.” are painted. sevika looks up at mel with a questioning glance and asks, “what’s that?”

“it’s my signature. the title of the painting and my name.”

“‘my star’?” sevika reads off.

“yeah, because that’s what you are. you’re my star, sevika. you’re so beautiful and bright.”

and those words echo in sevika’s mind for the rest of time, especially when sevika pins mel down and rides her face into the pillow a few seconds later. she’s right. she is mel’s star, isn’t she.

#i may have analyzed more than anything BUT I LOVE THIS !!!!!#melvika is the only correct ship #they are perfection #this is a certified banger but everything you write is #!!!!!!#your fics always change my perspective #they are soft and vivid and light and full of love and your emotion is felt through your craft #it’s truly beautiful.#❝ ⋮ ⌗ ┆ 𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐫𝐚𝐲’𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐬 ❞

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quibbs126 · 3 days ago

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So because I saw someone like my initial post with Overdrive, for whatever reason he stayed in my brain and I was like “okay fine, I’ll attempt to design him again”

To be honest, I think generally he came out a lot better than last time, at least in the face. I’m not so sure on the rest, or more accurately, the arms

Drawing this I was like “oh dear god the TFO style is a pain”. Honestly I think my main issues are that these designs are some of the most 3D reliant with how boxy they are (like they’re some of the most toy-looking Transformers designs to me), and I’m not very experienced in that, and also I have this need to make the designs as simple as possible, even if the design ends up looking kind of plain, as seen here

Like I know generally how the TF One characters are built. They have a basic body of components and gears and stuff that’s all black, alongside a silver head piece (I don’t think there’s any outside of Shockwave or people with masks that have a non-silver face, but correct me if I’m wrong). Then on top of that they have pieces meant to cover that black skeleton, giving their body protection and making them individual. Like they’re thinner pieces of metal meant to go over their basic bodies. I don’t know how fully to describe it but I know how they work

I just don’t know how to draw that well. G1 is blocky but they’re made up of solid blocks, not pieces on top of a basic framework, and I struggle to figure out how it works

What was I saying? I think I got carried away there, sorry. Point is I’m bad at drawing Overdrive in this style and I kind of don’t like drawing it. It’s probably just an issue of me not being able to leave my comfort zone and being spoiled with TFA style yesterday

Unfortunately, Overdrive has to stay in this style because he’s specific to this universe

Anyways, moving on for real this time

So his design is now pretty heavily inspired by some Jetfire toys I found when looking for references to use (but mostly this first one)

It’s also the main basis for his color scheme this time around. Admittedly I do still think the red and white makes him look oddly similar to Ratchet, but oh well. Admittedly his design is allowed to at least have some blue paint, maybe I should give him some

But also one of the main bases of his head design here was another design I was making on the original, when I planned to expand the canvas and draw more. Unfortunately I got frustrated with posing blocks so I never did more, but I do have that one new addition now

His cockpit is yellow here because while I was testing out blue, I thought that with all the basis on Jetfire, he didn’t look enough like Starscream, so I gave him Starscream’s yellow. I ended up using the blue I was initially using on his eyes, which are the main reason they’re blue now

Not a lot of experimenting with the colors this time around, mostly since I didn’t want to lose the colors I was already using

Maybe I could have made his wing stripes black though? I’m realizing now that outside of his framework and vents, his design’s pretty much all reds and whites

I think his arms could probably do with more detail and refining as well. I just didn’t know how else to draw them

Now, as for other character things, I’ve settled on a few?

Like I think I’m gonna have him working on ground bridge technology. He does still work on going as fast as possible, but it’s more a personal thing. The things on his back are also experimental engines he made to go faster

He’s probably also banned from racing due to his technically illegal self-upgrades, which are at the very least illegal in the sport

But yeah, he’s on the bridge technology team, though admittedly he’s used more for his speed and general size. After the movie when their project can resume production again, he’s mostly used as the guy to scavenge parts and scout out good locations on the surface. Never mind the fact that he’s never really been on the surface before this, but he at least can make a quick getaway if need be

This is probably how he ends up encountering the Decepticons, or most importantly Starscream. They find him doing experiment stuff in the surface. My idea is that his team is trying to build a bridge portal up on the surface, given they know the technology works now. But also they’re kind of doing it in secret and possibly didn’t tell Optimus about it. But they’ve been causing stuff to happen with one of the Energon rivers up there for their portal (like redirecting it or making a dam or something, idk), which caused the Decepticons to take notice

Still not entirely sure on his personality, but I do know he takes great pride in his speed and no one being able to out-fly him. He also takes pride in his work as a scientist, both personal and professional. He may be a little too ambitious and intense on his plans for bridge technology, wanting to one day remote portal to distant galaxies, when they haven’t even tested if it can go to another receptor up on the surface yet. But he’s at least happy rambling about his projects

Honestly I think he currently reads as too Starscream, especially when Starscream has never been in his life, I feel like I need to add a bit more Skyfire in there. Just not sure how

But yeah, I think that’s about it on Overdrive for now. When will I continue? Who knows

#by the way his visor is still retractable #that’s why I have 2 versions of his look bc you’ll see either of them on him #idk if I should change his eye color or not #I also really wish Skyfire had an actual TFO design #it’d make my life so much easier #transformers #transformers one #transformers oc #skystar #overdrive #my art #my OCs #I forgot about that tag of mine tbh #fankid

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magical-reid · 6 hours ago

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All That Matters

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Prompt: 24: “I don’t care what others say, I want to be with you and that’s all that matters to me.”

Word Count: 800

Setting: Post-Hydra recovery at the Avengers Compound

Summary: In the quiet of the Avengers Compound, you struggle with feelings of doubt and isolation, haunted by your past as a Hydra agent. But Bucky who understands the weight of being judged for things beyond your control, offers you a rare kind of comfort, proving that, despite the past, you truly belong—and he’s not going anywhere.

The Avengers Compound was quieter at night. Most of the team had retired to their rooms, the buzz of missions and meetings reduced to the occasional hum of distant machinery or the rustle of a breeze through the tall windows. You liked it that way—still, calm, with no one looking at you like you didn’t belong.

You were seated in the kitchen, the sharp metallic scent of dish soap filling the air as you meticulously wiped down the already-clean counters. It wasn’t about cleaning, not really—it was about control. About keeping your hands busy so your mind wouldn’t wander back to those memories you worked so hard to bury.

You heard the sound of boots behind you, heavy and deliberate. You didn’t have to turn around to know who it was. You knew the rhythm of his steps by heart.

“Bucky,” you said softly, stilling your hands on the cloth.

He didn’t say anything at first, just moved to lean against the counter beside you, his metal hand tapping idly on the surface. You could feel his eyes on you—blue, sharp, and all too perceptive.

“Shouldn’t you be asleep?” you asked, risking a glance at him.

“Could say the same for you,” he countered, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. But it faded quickly, replaced by something softer, more cautious. “You okay?”

You hesitated. Bucky was one of the few people who could ask you that question without it sounding shallow. He understood what it was like to carry the weight of your past, to feel the judgment of others every time you walked into a room. You didn’t have to explain it to him.

“Everyone thinks I don’t belong here,” you admitted finally, your voice barely above a whisper. “That I’m… dangerous. Damaged.”

Bucky’s brows knitted together, his jaw tightening. He didn’t like hearing you talk about yourself like that, but he also knew you weren’t wrong. The Avengers had been civil to you—for the most part. But you’d caught the side glances, the whispered conversations that stopped abruptly when you entered the room.

You folded the cloth in your hands with precision, lining up the edges perfectly before placing it on the counter. “Maybe they’re right. Maybe I don’t deserve to be here. Or to—” You stopped yourself before the words could slip out, but Bucky’s gaze sharpened.

“Don’t do that,” he said firmly.

“Do what?”

“Doubt yourself. Question if you deserve things like this—like us.” He stepped closer, his warm hand brushing against your wrist. “Because you do. More than anyone else in this damn place.”

You shook your head, swallowing hard. “They’ll never see me as anything other than what I was. A Hydra agent. A liability.”

“I don’t care what others say,” Bucky interrupted, his voice low but steady. He turned you to face him fully, his hands resting gently on your arms. “I want to be with you, and that’s all that matters to me.”

Your breath caught in your throat. The weight of his words, the conviction in his tone—it was overwhelming.

“Bucky, you can’t just—”

“Yes, I can,” he said, cutting you off again. There was a fire in his eyes now, the same stubborn determination that had kept him alive through decades of hell. “I know what it’s like to be judged for something you had no control over. To have people look at you like you’re a monster. And I know it doesn’t matter what they think. What matters is what I see.”

He reached up, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “And I see someone who’s kind, and smart, and stronger than she’ll ever admit. Someone I care about. So stop pushing me away.”

You blinked rapidly, trying to fight back the tears that threatened to spill. “Bucky, I… I don’t want to hurt you. Or anyone else.”

“You won’t,” he said simply. “You’re not who you were back then. And I trust you.”

The words were like a balm to your soul, soothing wounds you hadn’t even realized were still open.

“Okay,” you whispered finally, your voice trembling. “Okay.”

Bucky’s lips curved into a small, relieved smile. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead to yours in a gesture that was as intimate as it was grounding.

“Good,” he murmured. “Because I’m not going anywhere.”

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kikyoupdates · 2 days ago

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Infatuated ⭑˚💌⭑ 𝑎 𝑓𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑒𝑛𝑑

yandere!bnha x reader

yandere, reverse harem, bnha x fem!reader, slowburn, slowburn yandere

Your Quirk is rather unique. It plays out almost like a game, giving you missions and goals that help you become stronger. On top of that, you also have the ability to charm those around you. It sounds innocent enough on paper, and you can’t help but revel in the attention everyone keeps showering you with. But what happens when their feelings give way to something more sinister?

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If someone had asked you a few hours ago how you would be spending your day, you could never have predicted it would be like this.

There's a man in front of you, so incredibly gaunt that you might’ve mistaken him for a skeleton. His cheeks are completely sunken in, practically hollow, and nearly every time he speaks, blood spews out of his mouth.

This man is the greatest hero in the world, All Might.

Honestly, you're still struggling to make sense of it. Today has been one big series of misadventures. Starting with Katsuki’s merciless bullying of Izuku at school, then being attacked by some slime villain that attempted to take Izuku’s body hostage, to finally being rescued by All Might—only to discover that there's far more to him than meets the eye.

Izuku is especially horrified, since he’s idolized All Might for as long as you can remember.

“But... how?” he gapes. “Are you really All Might? No... it can’t be real. I just don’t understand how this could possibly be true...”

You can't really believe it either, at least not until All Might lets out a weary sigh and lifts up his shirt, revealing a gruesome wound that has you wondering how he's even still alive right now. Apparently, he got that injury from a villain several years ago, and the aftereffects are so severe that it has permanently weakened him. You're used to seeing the All Might that everyone else knows—that blindingly-bright, impressively muscular man who never stops smiling, no matter what. But the All Might standing in front of you right now couldn't be any more different. He isn't smiling, nor does he give off the impression of someone you can entrust with your life.

He isn't superhuman. He is flawed and weak, just like the average person.

“I can’t work as a hero for more than three hours per day,” All Might explains grimly. “That’s my limit. I was trying so hard to get away from you kids... but I guess the secret’s out now. This is my true form. My body just isn’t what it used to be. I’ve kept this hidden from the public, because I can only imagine how frightened people would be if they found out about my current state. No matter what, the Symbol of Peace cannot succumb to the forces of evil.”

Izuku splutters hopelessly. “But... but... whenever you save people, you’re always smiling and laughing. You always look so sure of yourself, and—”

“The reason I laugh isn’t because I’m not scared. I do it to distract myself from the constant fear and pressure weighing me down. Pro heroes must always put their lives on the line. It’s an incredibly dangerous job, and I doubt you’d ever find a hero who doesn’t get scared.” All Might pauses, then flashes Izuku a sympathetic look. “Earlier, you asked me if someone who is Quirkless can still become a hero. Knowing what I know about the hero profession, and all the dangers that come with it... I just can’t in good conscience bring myself to tell you that it’s possible.”

The second All Might utters those words, all the color drains from Izuku’s cheeks. You can see that he’s broken out into a cold sweat, and he's struggling to breathe evenly, veering dangerously close to a state of hyperventilation.

“I... see,” is all he manages to respond, staring blankly at the ground.

All Might tries to force a smile, but it isn't very reassuring. “If you care about saving people, you can always go into police work. The police don’t often receive the acknowledgment they deserve, but it is nonetheless an admirable profession. I can’t possibly condemn someone that has a dream. It’s a good thing to push yourself and try to reach your goals. But at the same time... you have to see reality for what it is, kid.”

Just like that, he leaves, and you can tell that Izuku’s entire world has just shattered.

Instinctively, you wrap your arms around him and squeeze tight. “Don’t listen to him,” you try to encourage. “Just because there aren’t any Quirkless heroes yet doesn’t mean there can’t be. It’s okay, Izuku. You can still try. Nothing is set in stone.”

Under ordinary circumstances, this might've worked. Granted, it isn't as if you can just snap your fingers and make everything okay all of a sudden, but you normally succeed in pacifying Izuku whenever he's going through a particularly rough patch. After hugging him and consoling him for a while, he usually calms down.

Unfortunately, this situation is far from ordinary, and thus, your attempts fall flat.

“Thanks, [Name].” Izuku’s eyes are already bloodshot and brimming with tears. He is thanking you, but you aren't even sure what for, considering how utterly broken he looks. “I’ll... be alright. All Might isn’t wrong. I need to see reality for what it is. I’ve been such an idiot, all this time.”

After staring into his vacant, tear-filled gaze, you feel like crying. But you don't , because that's the last thing Izuku needs right now. What use would you be if he ends up having to console you instead? For his sake, you have to stay positive.

Or at the very least, look it.

For a brief moment, you even consider using your Quirk to try and cheer him up. To put him under your control and make his mind dissociate, so that he won't have to feel the full intensity of his emotions right now. But doing that feels wrong, somehow. Especially if you don't have his explicit permission. In this moment, the most you can possibly do is keep on hugging him and make it abundantly clear just how much you believe in him, until he finally believes in himself.

Still. It just isn't fair. What has Izuku done to deserve any of this? Is it really not enough that people like Katsuki keep tormenting him? Why is he now forced to watch his biggest role model turn his back on him?

You are only fourteen years old, but you're realizing just how incredibly shitty life can be for some people.

“I’m okay,” Izuku insists, although his expression is practically blank by now. “I’m really okay, [Name]. You don’t need to worry.”

You smile weakly. “I know you are. Because you will become a hero. Today’s just been rough. Tomorrow will be better. I promise.”

You refuse to let go of his hand while you walk. Part of you is worried that once you do, you might lose him forever. You fear that he might finally succumb to all the pressure and give up on his dream. Give up on everything.

As it just so happens, though, life presents you with an opportunity. You hear loud chatter and spot a crowd of people gathered together. It doesn't take long for you to realize that all those people are probably watching heroes go head-to-head with a villain, and so, you pull Izuku in their direction, hoping that it will reignite the flame inside him that is on the verge of being snuffed.

“Look, Izuku,” you beam. “I wonder who’s fighting today? Let’s watch the heroes kick some villain butt!”

He's dragging his feet and looks visibly unenthusiastic, but old habits are hard to quit. Even as dejected as he is right now, he still can't stop himself from following you. It makes you hopeful that despite everything All Might said to him, he's still determined to do what he always dreamed of.

It was your intention to lift his spirits, but in the process of pulling him along, you end up doing the exact opposite.

There he is again—the slime villain that attacked the two of you earlier. But it just doesn't make any sense. You know for a fact that All Might captured him. Does that mean that he must have escaped at some point?

“It’s my fault,” Izuku gasps, hurrying to clamp his palms over his mouth. “Oh god,” he breathes shakily, voice muffled. “All Might must have dropped him or something! If only I hadn’t been so selfish and just stayed out of his business!”

You don't know what to say. Of course, you don't believe Izuku is to blame, but you are too petrified to say a damn word.

Because the slime villain’s latest victim isn't just anyone—it's someone you know very, very well.

Katsuki!

He's struggling with all his might, desperately fighting to stay conscious and resist succumbing to the villain. Katsuki is strong. He has always been strong. Even so, that doesn't make him indestructible. And right now, as he struggles to get enough air to even breathe, you can tell that he's terrified beyond words.

You want to help. You really, really do, but your previous experience with the slime villain already proved that you're helpless to do a damn thing.

More than anything, you're afraid of what might happen to you if you even try.

Izuku, however, is different. Which is why, while you stand there, frozen stiff from fear, Izuku has already started running.

You cry out to him, try to tell him that it's too dangerous, but he isn't listening. Despite being Quirkless, you know that Izuku is already more of a hero than most people could ever hope to be. That's why he doesn't hesitate for a moment to try and save someone, even when all the odds are stacked against him.

His bravery and selfless nature are what manage to finally spur you onwards, but when you try to run after him, one of the heroes on site pulls you back.

“Don’t!” he insists. “What that kid just did was incredibly reckless! You’re not going anywhere! You could get seriously hurt!”

The hero holds you in place, and you thrash and try to break free, even though you aren't a match for his strength. All the while, Izuku is doing everything he can possibly think of to try and free Katsuki from the slime villain. He throws his backpack at him, frantically pulls and claws at the slime to try and give Katsuki enough room to breathe—just anything.

He must be scared. So scared that he probably can't even think straight, but even so, he doesn't give up.

As a result, he manages to move the heart of a man who was convinced he’d already reached his limit for the day.

All Might appears out of nowhere, back in the broad, muscular state you're used to seeing him in. Blood is spewing out of his mouth, so you can tell that he's pushing himself beyond measure, but that's because he and Izuku are one and the same. When faced with someone who is in dire need of help, they both have a tendency to act first, and think later.

With All Might on the scene, the slime villain doesn't last much longer. You look on with tears in your eyes, shoulders sagging from relief when Izuku and Katsuki are finally both rescued. The villain’s amorphous body has splattered all over the place from the pressure of All Might’s punch, and it's safe to say that he’s been immobilized for good.

It's over. This hellish day has finally come to an end.

“Oh, Izuku,” you whimper, rushing straight over and wrapping him in a hug. “You nearly gave me a heart attack! I was so scared of what might happen to you...”

He chuckles weakly, blushing while he leans into your touch. “I-I’m okay. I know what I did was reckless, but... seeing Kacchan like that, I couldn’t possibly ignore him. His eyes looked they were pleading for help.”

“No, you did the right thing,” you insist. “You bought Katsuki enough time for All Might to act. You might’ve even been the one that inspired him to do so. I wish I could’ve run to help right away, like you did... but I was too scared. I’ve clearly still got a long way to go.”

“That’s giving me too much credit. I really couldn’t accomplish anything on my own...”

You expect that Izuku will be praised for his bravery, but instead, he is met with nothing but reprimands from some of the other heroes who reacted to the crisis. They berate him for charging headfirst into danger, without any concern for his own well-being. You try to point out that if not for Izuku, Katsuki might have already been done in by the time All Might showed up, but they aren't having it.

On the other hand, from what you can tell, Katsuki is being showered with praise. His explosion Quirk is incredibly powerful, and that, paired with his resilience and tough nature, has clearly made a strong impression on the pros. They're all amazed that he held out for so long against the slime villain, when most people would hardly have lasted a few minutes.

Katsuki is amazing, no doubt about it, but there's no mistaking how afraid he looked back there. No matter how headstrong and fearless he tries to act, at heart, he's still only a fourteen-year-old boy.

For that reason, you figure that what he needs most of all right now is not to be praised incessantly, but for someone to show him some genuine concern.

You hug Izuku one last time, stand up, then begin walking in Katsuki’s direction.

Unfortunately, you don't make it very far.

“Stay back,” Katsuki grits out, the veins in his forehead threatening to burst. “I know what’s going on in that stupid head of yours. I can tell based on that goddamn pitying expression you have. Stay back before I get really fucking mad.”

You want to show him that you care. Even if he is horrible to Izuku at times, especially earlier today, he's still your long-time friend. You doubt you'll ever lose the soft spot you have for him. Is it really too much to ask that he lets his guard down and accepts your consideration, for crying out loud?

“Katsuki—”

“No,” he spits. “Shut the fuck and march back to shitty Deku’s side. He’s the one you’re so obssesed with anyways.”

You shamefully look down at your feet. It seems like it's pointless to even try. No matter what you do , no matter what Izuku does, Katsuki keeps interpreting it as an insult. Izuku just tried to save his life, and yet Katsuki is still glaring at him as though he’s somehow been wronged.

None of it makes any sense, and it hurts to feel like things will never go back to the way they used to be.

Heeding Katsuki’s words, you trudge back over to Izuku. It's time to leave. It's been a long, incredibly tiring day, for you too, but Izuku especially. He needs to get some rest and put all of this behind him.

Right before you leave the scene, Katsuki makes sure to glare viciously in your direction one last time.

“I never asked you to help me, piece of trash Deku,” he grits out. “I didn’t need your help. Got it? In fact, I saved myself. You didn’t do a goddamn thing! So, don’t expect me to owe you or some shit. You seriously piss me the hell off. Stay out of my life from now on and mind your fucking business.”

Neither you nor Izuku say anything in response. A rational-minded person would have said ‘thanks’, or even, ‘I really appreciated what you tried to do.’ But Katsuki is just too stuck in his ways. He's determined to always make things out to be negative. He refuses to ever acknowledge that even he needs help sometimes.

Katsuki’s lack of gratitude just makes Izuku’s sacrifice that much more noble, because you know for a fact he didn't expect anything in return.

“You really are amazing, Izuku.” You smile gently, reaching down to grab his hand again. “I mean, the fact that you tried to save Katsuki without even thinking twice about it, even after he hurt you earlier today and said all those horrible things. That’s exactly why I know you’ll become a hero. Most people wouldn’t have been able to save someone who’d bullied them for so many years.”

Izuku stares down at your hand and admires the way your fingers are interlocked with his. Unless you're imagining it, he looks like he's feeling a bit better now. At the very least, his expression isn't hollow and lifeless anymore. Perhaps he's just relieved that Katsuki is safe, or maybe he feels a small sense of pride over his heroic feat earlier. You have no way of knowing for sure.

The two of you walk in silence, and neither of you seems willing to let go of the other’s hand. Izuku still can't forget All Might’s words from earlier, and even though he tried to help his former friend, he knows that still isn't enough for him to become a hero. He realizes now that without a Quirk, it's nothing but a baseless dream.

Still, he's comforted by the fact that you think he's amazing. Maybe he can strive to become a police officer, like All Might suggested. He can still save people that way, and as long as you are by his side, then...

Perhaps that alone is enough.

Of course, you are none the wiser as to what thoughts are going through Izuku’s head. You don't know just how much he's fixating on you and placing you on a pedestal, unintentionally relying on you as his sole source of motivation and happiness. It's never a good thing for any one person to depend wholly on another, and if not for All Might’s sudden appearance, Izuku might have fallen further into his obsessive thoughts.

“All Might?!” Izuku cries out. “But... what are you doing here? I could’ve sworn you were surrounded by reporters back there...”

“I gave them the slip,” All Might chuckles. “I’m still the Number One hero, you know. More importantly, I had some things I wanted to say. Or rather, some corrections regarding what I said earlier.”

You cock a brow, and Izuku can't help but do the same. Well, he’s come all this way for a reason, so you suppose you have no choice but to hear him out. You just hope he won't say more depressing stuff that would completely crush Izuku’s soul.

However, much to your surprise, All Might doubles back and basically retracts his previous words. He admits to being inspired by Izuku’s courage and willingness to help save his friend, despite being Quirkless. Unlike before, All Might has nothing but praise for him. He apologizes for having dismissed him so quickly and recognizes that Quirk or not, Izuku has the heart of a hero.

“You can become a hero.”

They're the same words you've repeated to Izuku for the past ten years, but hearing them from a hero like All Might is understandably more impactful. Izuku is so moved that he can't help but crumple to his knees, and even though he was already crying, this time, they are happy tears.

You wrap your arms around him. Overwhelmed by emotion, it doesn't take long for you to start crying too.

You would be lying if you said you expected to hear from him again today. After all, you didn't exactly leave things off on a good note. But you are a forgiving person by nature, and again, you can't find it in you to completely resent Katsuki, even after all the scummy things he’s already done.

Perhaps you shouldn’t keep giving him more chances, but you do it anyways.

It's very much like him not explain anything and stick to his stubbornness. Honestly, though, in light of recent news, you're in a really good mood. You thought for sure that today would suck all the way until the end, but it had actually been rather incredible.

All Might has chosen Izuku as his successor, and he is going to pass his Quirk onto him.

Your eyes nearly bulged out of your head when you heard him utter those words. You thought he was making things up just to screw with the both of you. But no, apparently All Might’s Quirk—One for All—is the type of Quirk that can be passed down from one person to the next. Izuku is going to have to train his butt off to get stronger, but if he succeeds, then he'll have a Quirk waiting for him.

He isn't going to be Quirkless anymore, and the thought makes you so happy that you can hardly stop grinning.

“What’s with that stupid look on your face?” Katsuki snaps. He's obviously peeved by how chipper you are, but unfortunately, you can't tell him why. All Might has sworn both you and Izuku to secrecy. One for All is purely confidential, and you aren't allowed to tell anyone, not even your own parents.

Still, you physically can't wipe your smile off your face. Things are finally looking up for Izuku, and it's impossible to contain your excitement.

“I watched a funny show earlier,” you brush off. “I can’t stop thinking about it. Anyways, what’s up? Why’d you call me out here?”

For some reason, Katsuki glances away, unwilling to look you in the eye.

“Deku didn’t save me,” he finally mutters. “I wanted to make sure you didn’t get any stupid ideas.”

“Huh? Are you still on about that?”

You blink repeatedly. He really is ridiculous. When is he going to realize that he's way too fixated on Izuku? It isn't healthy. Izuku is perfectly content to just do his own thing and be nice to everyone. Katsuki's the one who keeps going out of his way to harass him for no reason. Back when he was younger, he always used to say that Izuku was obsessed with him, but it's so clearly the other way around.

Still, you're in a really good mood right now, and you refuse to let Katsuki put a damper on it.

“Okay, Katsuki.” You nod patiently and smile. “Izuku didn’t save you, it’s true. All Might was the one who saved you. Izuku was worried about you, because you know that’s just how he is. He worries about everyone. But I know he isn’t the one who defeated the slime villain or anything, so can we please just put this past us?”

Katsuki clenches his fists. “And I’m saying that he had no reason to worry about me, because I was just fucking fine! All he ever does is look down on me. It’s like he thinks I’m this weak-ass bitch, and he’s so much better than I am.”

“No,” you frown. “Like I said, he worries about everyone, not just you. You’re not the exception, Katsuki. Some people tend to worry more than others. That’s just the kind of person he is. Just because you’re strong doesn’t mean people can’t worry about you. I don’t get why you think it’s such a bad thing. It shows that they care. It means that they value you. It doesn’t mean they think you’re below them.”

“I don’t need anyone to worry about me—least of all a Quirkless weakling like him,” he spits.

You really don't know what else to say. You're always running in circles with this guy. He's just too tied up in his flawed way of thinking. He believes that any sort of concern directed his way is automatically some form of mockery. You wish you could help him think more clearly, but you just don't know how.

“I care about you, Katsuki. I care about you, and that means I worry too. Even though I know you’re so much stronger than I am. Don’t you see that it’s not about being strong or weak? I care about you because you’re important to me. It’s just that simple.”

For just a moment, Katsuki’s eyes widen, and he looks like he's finally starting to understand.

He raises your hopes, only to immediately dash them.

“I’m important to you,” he swallows. He's thankful for the dark of night, otherwise you would’ve noticed that he's blushing right now. “You mean that, right?”

“Of course I do,” you nod. “I’ve known you for so long. You’re still my friend.”

Katsuki just stares at you, and there's something weirdly ominous about the way he does it, without so much as blinking once.

“If I’m so important to you, then tell Deku you never want to see him again.”

“What?”

You can't help the gasp that leaves your lips. Seriously, what in the world is he on about now? There's no way you're ever going to do something like that. He's acting crazy.

“You know that’s never going to happen,” you grimace. “Just stop it, Katsuki. If that’s your idea of a joke, it really isn’t funny.”

Katsuki’s eyes are completely wide. “Who said I was joking? You’re the one who started running your mouth about how important I am to you and all that shit. So, I’m calling your bluff. If I was actually important to you, then you would cut that shitty nerd out of your life, because you know just how much he gets under my skin. Unless you’re saying he’s more important to you than I am.”

Before you can even muster up a response, Katsuki has already stepped closer to you. He grabs you by the hand, except unlike whenever you hold Izuku’s hand, this sensation is far from pleasant. Actually, it even borders on painful, because of how hard he keeps squeezing your fingers.

It hurts, and quite frankly, he's freaking you out.

“There’s no way you think that fucking loser is better than me... right?” Katsuki insists. He refuses to let go of your hand, despite the fact that you keep trying to shake him off. Everything about him right now, from the tone of his voice to that unsettling look in his eyes, just reeks of desperation. He only ever seems to get this desperate whenever Izuku is involved.

That's what you believe, however, the reality is slightly different.

You and Izuku together—that is what makes Katsuki’s blood boil like no other.

“Katsuki, I don’t think either of you is better or worse,” you try to explain. By now, you’ve given up on trying to push him away or make him let go of your hand. You just hope that you can get him to calm down. “Please, can you just stop this? I really want all three of us to be friends again. I hate how things turned out.”

Perhaps one day, in the distant future, the situation would improve. But if you asked Katsuki right now, he would rather die than ever make amends with that shitty freckled nerd. He hates Izuku with every fiber of his being, and not only because he's Quirkless.

Because he's stolen you from him.

“You don’t give a fuck about me,” Katsuki chuckles dryly. “I doubt you ever did. Deku was the one you always made googly eyes at. Stop pretending like you want anything to do with me. That kind of fake shit makes me sick to my goddamn stomach.”

You try to protest, but he's already walking away. He steps inside his house and slams the door shut, not even bothering to glance back in your direction.

Katsuki is gone, and you are left outside in the cold, completely alone. You raise your head and look up at the sky. It's so endlessly vast and dark. Not a single star is in sight. You know that they're out there, somewhere, hidden behind a black veil, but since you can't actually see them, it does little to comfort you.

Whatever happiness you felt earlier was clearly destined to be short-lived. The day has ended on an awful note after all.

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xoxorealitygalore · 2 days ago

Text

CHILL BABY

Summary: Yami navigates the chaos of life while searching for peace, with Jacob by her side, encouraging her to embrace imperfection and trust the process. Together, they discover that although life may never be free from chaos, it is possible to find stillness within it, ultimately transforming both of their paths in unexpected and profound ways.

Pairing: Jacob Fatu x OC

December 2024

Even now, after years in WWE, that unrelenting attitude was still a defining feature of her persona. It had earned her the reputation of a loose cannon, a reputation that, despite all the progress she’d made, still lingered around her like a shadow.

“I don’t know how to shut up. I don’t know how to stop fighting,” Yami was saying into the microphone, her voice unmistakably confident but tinged with a hint of self-awareness. “I don’t know how to be calm. I’m just classy with attitude. Like, when I got signed to WWE? It was because Mark Henry saw me fighting at a gas station and told me about WWE.”

Her words caused the host to chuckle, but it was Jacob Fatu, the other guest on the podcast, who seemed to pay the most attention. He was leaned forward slightly, his gaze fixed on Yami as she spoke. His usual easygoing demeanor had shifted, and for the first time since he’d joined the podcast, he seemed slightly distracted—distracted by Yami’s raw energy, her unguarded self-expression. In the six months since they had crossed paths, Jacob had developed a subtle admiration for her, but hearing her speak this honestly—about her struggles, her flaws, her ambition—made him admire her all the more.

“But I’m working on it,” Yami continued, the smile on her lips softening as she leaned back slightly in her chair. “I’m in therapy and anger management. I’m getting better. Really. It’s just hard, you know? It’s like I’m constantly fighting myself just to stay calm. But I’m doing it.”

Jacob, who had spent years in the ring wrestling with his own demons, understood exactly what she meant. The road to self-improvement was never easy, especially when your profession demanded a level of aggression that often spilled over into your personal life.

“Therapy, huh?” Jacob said, the gentle smile on his lips betraying the curiosity in his tone. “Sounds like you’re doing the hard work. Not everyone has the courage to face themselves like that.”

Yami shrugged, a playful glint in her eyes. “I don’t have a choice. Life keeps throwing punches. Might as well learn to take them and throw a few back, right?”

The host of the podcast, who had been silently observing the exchange, couldn’t help but notice the shift in Jacob’s demeanor. There was something in the way he was looking at Yami—something that suggested there was more between them than just casual conversation. The host smirked, sensing an underlying tension that hadn’t been there before.

“I mean, it’s kind of impressive, to be honest,” Jacob added, his voice warm with an unspoken fondness. “You’ve come a long way from that fight at the gas station.”

Yami laughed, but the sound was tinged with a sense of nostalgia. “Yeah, that was a moment, huh? I don’t even remember what started it. I just know it was a fight and, well... I tend to go all in when it comes to things like that.”

“You’ve got fire,” Jacob observed, his tone more serious now. “I respect that.”

Yami caught the sincerity in his words and felt something stir within her. The dynamic between them had always been friendly, but now it felt different—charged, almost magnetic. She wasn’t sure if it was the way he was looking at her, or the fact that he understood her in a way most people didn’t, but something about the conversation felt personal in a way it never had before.

“Enough about me, though,” Yami said, abruptly flipping the script. “You’ve been wrestling for years. Everyone knows your family’s legacy. You’ve probably heard that question a million times by now, but... I gotta ask.” She leaned forward slightly, her tone teasing, yet genuinely curious. “I know your cousins on jail TV were your inspiration for becoming a wrestler. But, if you’d never seen them on TV, do you think you would’ve still ended up being a wrestler?”

Jacob was taken aback by the question. He’d expected to talk more about his own journey, his own experiences, but Yami had taken the conversation in a completely different direction. For a moment, he was silent, pondering her words carefully.

“I don’t think so,” he said slowly, his voice thoughtful. “Maybe I would’ve, but I don’t think I would’ve taken it as seriously as I did. I saw my cousins on TV, and it made me believe it was possible. That it wasn’t just something that happened to other people. It was something I could do, too.”

Yami nodded in understanding, a faint smile playing on her lips. She had always admired how Jacob carried himself—grounded, humble, despite the legacy of his family. But hearing him speak so openly about his inspirations made her see him in a new light. He wasn’t just a product of his famous relatives. He was his own man, with his own dreams and struggles.

“You’re a lot deeper than people think,” Yami said, her voice almost softer now, as if the dynamic between them had shifted again.

Jacob chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “I’m just a big guy with big shoulders. I try to keep things simple.”

Yami smirked. “Big guy, huh? Yeah, you don’t exactly blend in.”

Jacob laughed, but there was something else in his eyes now—a warmth that hadn’t been there before. Yami, noticing it, shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Was it possible? Had the connection between them been growing under the surface without either of them noticing?

The host, sensing the change in the atmosphere, decided to wrap up the interview. “Alright, folks, that’s all we have time for today. Thanks for tuning in to the podcast. Big thanks to Yami Rosnay and Jacob Fatu for joining us today!”

As the host reached over to stop the recording, Yami and Jacob exchanged a brief but meaningful look. Neither of them spoke, but something unspoken passed between them—a realization, perhaps, or the beginning of something new.

“So, lunch?” Jacob asked, his voice low and casual, though his eyes held a hint of something more.

Yami hesitated for a moment, then smiled. “Sure. Why not?”

Lunch wasn’t what either of them had expected. What began as a simple, casual meal soon evolved into something deeper. The conversation flowed effortlessly, and before long, they were talking not just about wrestling, but about their lives outside the ring—their dreams, their fears, the moments they didn’t always share with the world.

Yami found herself surprised by how comfortable she felt with Jacob. There was an ease between them, a sense of trust that had developed organically. It was almost as if they had known each other far longer than they actually had.

“I know you don’t exactly talk about your personal life much, but...” Yami trailed off, taking a sip of her drink. “You’ve got a lot going for you. How do you balance it all? Family, wrestling, everything?”

Jacob leaned back in his chair, his gaze thoughtful. “It’s not easy. Sometimes it feels like everything’s pulling me in different directions. But I try to stay focused. My family is everything to me. And wrestling... well, it’s in my blood. It’s not just a job. It’s a part of who I am.”

Yami studied him for a moment, her brow furrowed slightly as she considered his words. “Sounds like you’ve got a pretty solid foundation,” she said. “I wish I could say the same.”

Jacob chuckled softly. “We all have our battles. But it’s how we fight them that matters.”

There was a silence between them, a quiet understanding passing through the air. It wasn’t just the shared experiences of being professional wrestlers that bound them together; it was the unspoken connection that had begun to grow over the past few hours.

“Yami,” Jacob said, his voice a little quieter now. “I’m glad we did this. I didn’t expect... I didn’t expect this.”

Yami smiled, the tension that had once filled the air now replaced with something softer, warmer. “Me neither. But I’m glad we did, too.”

As they finished their meal, the subtle flirtation that had existed between them earlier evolved into something deeper. Something neither of them had planned, but something that neither of them could deny.

And as the day came to a close, both Yami and Jacob found themselves wondering if this was the beginning of something far more complicated—and far more meaningful—than either of them had anticipated.

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