#but i think it would be worth doing and i want to do it
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I think it's crazy how Trans misogyny is not exclusive to trans women, this is not a post downplaying how we are the biggest victims of this by a vast overwhelming majority, it's a post talking about how people of color are often masculanized and their features are often seen as less feminine and how that REALLY affects everybody. I'm speaking as a white trans woman, repeating what my black Trans boyfriend has told me about his experience. Back in the day when he still identified as a woman he, has been targeted and harassed by people who hate Trans women; calling him a "dumb ugly tranny", refusing to recognize him as a woman, which obviously at the time really fucking sucked. He is AFAB and my point here is this. Trans women like me, white trans women will never have to deal with having my racial features hypermasculanized, but a black Trans girl? She is the biggest victim in all of this, and it is heart breaking and something I never see talked about on this website. The level of oppression, "gender denial" Trans black women face is scary and it is something always overlooked and dismissed. Trans black women are virtually invisible in our society, art and face the worst oppression. Black lives are beautiful. And worth caring for and protecting, and talking about like any other life. I obviously can never understand or face the same kind of oppression, but you know what I can do. I can say that I love you and care about you and I want you to live and go out there and be yourself. Without you we would not be where we are today, and our queer rights in large part are brought to us by the black women who fought for us. I can support black people and listen to black people and try to understand the biases I picked up over the years of being raised in white supremacist society. Please if you are black it is so important that you exist and it is so important that you create. Put yourself out there, make things, make yourself visible, even if people pretend you don't exist. Please make it all about you.
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Mine, Only Mine â Mr. Crawling, Gap, Silvair, Chopped, Hugeface, and Scarletella x gn! reader
summery: how jealous do some of the Homicipher boys get?
tw: unhealthy relationships (Mr. Hugeface & Scarletella)
wc: 1.2k
Master List
Ëâ· ÍÍÍÍâłâ„ Mr. Crawling
â„I know people have written about how he gets jealousâŠbut I donât really think he does? Or at least not terribly. The scene with Mr. Chopped and the cat ears show that Mr. Crawling wonât pout or get sad at you showing affection to others, just that he wants to gain the same attention (the ear sceneâŠ). So jealousy with Mr. Crawling isnât too bad, just be prepared to shower him with more affection than the person you originally did.Â
â„On the other hand, I do think his jealousy may increase if you ignore him. Say you give more attention to Mr. Scarletella, Mr. Crawling would get a bit sad and pouty, thinking you donât like him anymore. If this happens, give him lots and lots of attention and reassurance, heâll be super grateful. I mean he loves your affection anyways, so might as well give him some extra headpats and kisses. Even better if you only show certain signs of affection with him, it makes him feel special.Â
â„Overall, not the most jealous, but not completely unaffected either. Make sure he gets his daily dose of attention/quality time and heâll be as right as rain.
Ëâ· ÍÍÍÍâłâ„ Mr. Gap
â„Uh, he gets more jealous than youâd think. LikeâŠhis whole thing is he wants to be special to youâŠin his own strange way. Doesnât like the thought of someone taking his place as a jokester to you. Also why he brings you things heâd think you like from time to time, just to make sure you still have that special place in your heart for him <3
â„Hates hate hates when you call him bad or not good. Heâs good! He swears! Remember how heâs helped you before! Gets all frowny when you call him not good and then call someone else good. Heâs good too! Guess he has to prove it, AGAIN. Itâs honestly kind of endearing how he has no clue how he actually kind of does like you? But not exactly in a romantic way? Itâs honestly hard to label his feelings towards you, so why should I?
â„Iâd say heâs the second most jealous in this list of characters, watching on angrily as you praise someone that isnât him. Be prepared for magazines and books galore when heâs in this mood, trying to prove his worth to you. Kind of strange for someone to try so hard when they claim to not like youâŠ
Ëâ· ÍÍÍÍâłâ„ Mr. Silvair
â„Definitely the chillest one here. Doesnât really get jealous at all :/ If anything, he finds it entertaining when youâre affectionate with others. Gives him more insight to his lab rats. Yes, he sees everyone as a lab rat. Idk, I canât really see him get jealous.
â„MaybeâŠMAYBE if someone else tries doing research on you, or if Ms. Nurse treats you instead heâll feel a bit off. LikeâŠyouâre his test subject, he knows you from the inside outâŠliterally and not in the fun sense. Why would you go to someone who doesnât know as much about you and how this world affects you? Itâs very hard to spot his jealousy, doesnât even notice it/recognize it himself. He just doesnât want anyone to mess up his dataâŠthatâs allâŠtotally.
â„In conclusion, not really jealous. Doesnât feel like he needs to be. Youâre âfriendsâ, doctor and patient, mad scientist and lab rat not many others threaten that balance between you.Â
Ëâ· ÍÍÍÍâłâ„ Mr. Chopped
â„HonestlyâŠMr. Chopped Iâm kinda mixed on how heâd be. Like on one hand, I could totally see him getting jealous if you call others cute or pay too much attention to them. On the otherâŠhe could probably care less. He loves himself, you love him, why does he need to get jealous? Itâs clear how much you like him with the way you pamper him. I mean we get so many examples where youâre affectionate to Mr. Crawling in front of Mr. Chopped and he doesnât really bat an eye.Â
â„Now, I can see if he gets a bit insecure he might get more jealous. Whether it be because Mr. Crawling pats your head or tucks you into bed, Mr. Chopped feels a bit sad. Heâd like to tuck you in, you look so comfy. Might be just a bit pouty, eyeing you like a dissatisfied cat. Easily rectified with head pats or even cuddles. Gets side tracked from his jealousy as soon as you give him a sliver of attention honestly.
â„Mr. Chopped is fifty fifty when it comes to jealousy, but itâs never too bad. Heâs pretty comfortable with what you both have and doesnât really feel threatened by others. After all, you did call him cute.
Ëâ· ÍÍÍÍâłâ„ Mr. Hugeface
â„I wouldnât say he gets jealous? More possessive than anything. Like that scene when Mr. Machete stumbles into his little makeshift dollhouse that he made for you and gets all angry that heâs there. Itâs more of a âyouâre not supposed to be here, this is our playtimeâ more than actual jealousy. Throws a little fit whenever someone messes up your playtime. Very accusatory lmao.
â„Does not like when you try to escape. Was he not providing enough for you? Were you unhappy? Youâre not allowed to leave! Youâre his cute human! He canât just find another one yâknow. Mr. Hugeface may be lenient if he sees you happier, you need enrichment after all. Feels extra happy if you come back on your own violation.Â
â„The most childish out of all the characters on this list. Isnât afraid to throw tantrums, will also punish you by putting you in a solid concrete cube if heâs really upset. YeahâŠnot the most healthy of relationships to haveâŠBUT! I do think you could convince him to be a bit betterâŠ? Maybe? Only if you put enough work in communicating with him though. Maybe punish him in your own way like leaving for longer if he threatens to trap you.
Ëâ· ÍÍÍÍâłâ„ Mr. Scarletella
â„Uhhhhhhhhhhh. Top of the list when it comes to jealousy. Watches your every move with curiosity and spite. Why are you doing that to Mr. Crawling? Do it to him instead. Why do you look so happy braiding Mr. Choppedâs hair? Style his hair instead. Why are you looking so fondly amused at Mr. Gap? Donât you find him amusing? You do like him, right? He likes you. He likes you a lot, and he thought he was enoughâŠwas he not?
â„Will stare through your skull. It is so intimidating. His smile? Strained, it makes your skin crawl. You have to make sure he doesnât hurt your friends, heâs so close to snapping, but he knows that would upset you and thatâs not his goal. So instead he stands ominously in the background, body staticing in and out while his hand clenches the handle of his umbrella.Â
â„Not that easily mended. Likes to monopolize all your time and affection. Needs constant reassurance as well, heâs quite needy. If you like constant validation and no social life go for it, just donât get too upset if he threatens your other monster friendsâŠhe canât stand that you could like someone that wasnât him.
#â„ âą my works#homicipher x reader#mr crawling x reader#mr gap x reader#mr silvair x reader#mr chopped x reader#mr hugeface x reader#mr scarletella x reader#homicipher#mr crawling#mr gap#mr silvair#mr chopped#mr hugeface#mr scarletella#x reader
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me: I'm not a bat
Mr pages: (stuffing novels under its robe): I must abscond
#I have a lot of other bits I've collected but don't want to overwhelm the tag#I really would suggest motr and to play it as like. I like it for giving us a day to day slightly more grounded neath life#I think fallen london is a great setting well conveyed in total but motr is way more fleshed out in a âyou're just a guyâ way#I also really like the character writing. The gameplay to solve the mysteries is quite obtuse in total but I used a hint guide so it was#I knew what to do bc I would NOT have succeeded otherwise. But experiencing it was still fun#I'm quite torn on how good an intro it is for FL. I think that depends on your genre of choice but as a world introduction...#Idk!! In theory it's probably good. But I'd need to hear from people who went through it as their first to say. It touches on a bit of it a#Mask of the rose spoilers#Fallen london#for virginia and milton teaming up to bully you + mr pages ridiuclous comedy of a life it's worth it to me
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The Birdritch's Nest part 25
masterpost
âThat is a lot of plants,â Jason said. He swept his eyes over the space as he slipped his lock picks back into their little pouch.
âHe has a botanist friend, apparently, and she keeps giving him plants,â Dick explained as he squeezed past Jason and into the apartment.
âWhy are you here again?â
âBecause I have a car which is better to carry all of Dannyâs stuff in than your bike,â Dick explained. He went over to the wall of plants in front of the windowed corner and squinted down at something on his phone.
Jason pulled out his own phone to glance at what Tim had sent. âYou say âall Dannyâs stuffâ like the list was long. The guy hasnât exactly been demanding.â
âThe âguyâ expects to actually go home in a few days,â Dick pointed out.
âAnd is an adult and so can, you know, actually go home,â Jason retorted.
âDamianâs attached.â
ââŠI concede to your point,â Jason said once that thought sunk in. âDouble the clothing asked for?â
âBasically. Make sure that he has a weeks worth, Alfred can always do laundry,â Dick said before letting out a little noise of triumph and doing something over by the plants. âThere, watering system turned on.â
âCongratulations, youâre a genius,â Jason drawled. âNow go get his medication gathered up and snoop a little while youâre at it.â
âI thought we werenât supposed to be snooping,â Dick, words a teasing sing-song as he passed by.
Jason flicked him off. âLike you wouldnât anyways. I just want to know what you find.â
âOnly if you tell me what you find in the bedroom.â
âDeal.â
The bedroom was almost startlingly normal after the plant filled living main room. It didnât look like Danny really spent much time in it beyond sleeping. The bed was absentmindedly fixed, a black down comforter over pale blue sheets. There was a paperback on the nightstand next to a lamp and a pocket sized notebook with a pen clipped onto the bent and battered cover.
It was the first thing that Jason picked up.
The notebook was obviously where Danny made notes when he was already settled in bed. As Jason flipped through the pages there was everything from to-do lists to invention ideas to⊠a lot of thought about wings. Jason turned the notebook in his hands. That page wasnât in English. The language felt like it was on the tip of Jasonâs tongue but he just couldnât get it out.
Maybe some sort of dialect?
Jason couldnât actually read it, but there was enough to piece together from similarities that tugged on his memory. Enough to understand it was about the wings. Something about the process of change? Aging?
âHey Jay?â Dick interrupted, scattering Jasonâs thoughts. âCan you read the label on these bottles? Thereâs some serious printing issues happening, I canât even tell what language itâs in.â
The pill bottle felt oddly cold in Jasonâs hand when he took it from Dick, but maybe the bathroom just had shit heating in this place. It would be just like Gotham builders to mess that up.
âOh, thatâs the same thing Danny is writing in here,â Jason said passing the notebook to Dick. âItâs something about wings and getting old, I think, but I canât really read it.â
âRead it? I donât even know what it is. Gives me a headache just to look at it,â Dick grumbled as he flipped through the notebook. âThe whole bird thing has really been on his mind, hasnât it?â
Jason gave a little huff. âDo you blame him? The guy has wings now. It would be on my mind too.â
âYeah⊠guess I really canât,â Dick said and snapped a picture of the page with the unknown writing to send to the group chat. âAny idea what it is?â
âNope. Itâs like itâs a distant dialect or that it uses some of the same alphabet of something I learned some of once. Like how Chinese and Japanese use some of the same characters, you know?â Jason explained as he opened the side table drawer and then quickly closed it again. That was more than he needed to know about Danny. âMaybe something from when I was catatonic in the league, who knows. There were a lot of languages in that place.â
âCass or Damian might now it then,â Dick said as he eyed the drawer Jason had now moved away from.
âDonât, trust me,â Jason said. âDid you get the medications you needed to grab?â
âYeah, theyâre in the bag. Just a standard bathroom, really. Though he keeps his toothbrush in this old mug with a hero I donât recognize on it, someone called Phantom.â
âDoesnât ring a bell, but it sure sounds like a hero name. Add it to the list,â Jason said as he started on gathering up the requested clothing and extra enough to last a week. âCheck the closet to see if there are any shits in there that work around wings.â
Jason rolled his eyes as Dick threw the closet doors open dramatically and focused on his task. Jeans, sweatpants, underwear, what he guessed was pajamas were all added to the bag.
âSo, nothing that looks like it was made for wings,â Dick said and tossed some normal shirts and a few sweaters into the bag. Jason sighed and folded them neatly. âMaybe he hasnât had time to find any yet? It hasnât been that long since the bird thing and seems it all started there. Or maybe heâs just always home when heâs had then?â
âBetter let Alfred know then. Heâll want to get something as soon as possible.â
âYeah, good point,â Dick agreed.
While Dick stepped out of the bedroom to call Alfred, Jason took the time to double check the list. It really was pretty basic. Jason didnât know if Danny was just trying to not be demanding or if the guy didnât need much, but Jason went ahead and put the bedside paperback and notebook in the bad too. Jason slung the duffel bag Dick had brought over his shoulder (he totally could have ridden his bike like this) and took a little bit of time to snoop through Dannyâs bookcase while Dick finished the call. Sci-fi, horror, old text books, and a ton of notebooks filled the shelf with knickknacks and a few figures. Jason at least had to give Danny points for having some of the sci-fi classics, even if the range of works was pretty limited.
âOkay, Alfred is on it,â Dick said. âAnything else we need to do?â
âNah, I think weâre good,â Jason said. Something made him not want to look through the notebooks, like they had already done enough snooping. It was an odd feeling. âLetâs get going, Iâm hungry for whatever dinner is.â
âYouâre always hungry,â Dick said.
Jason shrugged rather than dealing with how true that statement was. âIâm a growing boy.â
âYouâre a trash pit.â
âYeah, you want to go there, cereal boy?â
âLeave my cereal out of it!â
---
AN: I do love writing Dick & Jason so much. Can you tell I have an older brother? Also sorry for the mistakes I'm sure are abounding. Guess who turns out to be anemic? This critter! Maybe getting that fixed will help...
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JEALOUS HEESEUNG BORDERLINE HATE FUCKS YOU !
pairing situationship!heeseung x f!reader
warnings smut. mdni. p in v, manhandling, name calling, hair pulling, mean hee won't kiss you
Heeseung, all things considered, is a pretty chill and laid back guy. Not prone to big displays of jealousy, especially if anywhere public. Most of the time he's quietly laying back on a couch at a party across the room, watching you with a glint in his eyes as time and time again you reject yet another guy trying to sneak his way into your pants. Thereâs something about the way you so obediently glance his way every time someone tries to flirt you, how your expression slightly shifts when he slouches further into the soft brown cushions, legs spread almost as if to invite you over on his lap.
Itâs been months since you started fucking, and as embarrassing as it feels to admit, you two haven't really put a label on what your... status actually is. Youâre definitely more than friendsâthough you don't know if you would even consider Heeseung your friend in the first placeâbut you also don't believe you're anywhere close to being a thing yet. That litter sliver of something keeps you fucking hooked on Heeseung though, as bad for you as it is.
And he enjoys every second of it. How you're so loyal to him even when he doesn't give you any reason to be.
Heâs confident you'll follow him around everywhere like a little lost puppy as long as he keeps feeding you whatever crumb you need; a gentle brush of his hand whenever he greets you, a soft compliment whispered in your ear before leaving you to find something to drink, a sweet forehead kiss when at the end of the night you've both found your way between the bedsheets. Iâve got it under control, he thinks.
Yet he can't find any explanationâone that heâd make peace with, that isâfor the scorching rage that overcomes him whenever he sees you and your bestie walking hand in hand around campus. The slightest twitch to his eye when he notices how bright you seem to be around Jay, how hard you laugh at his jokes and how touchy you seem to be, shoving his shoulder away when he makes a stupid comment, yet letting your hand linger on the cotton of his shirt. Thereâs a different light coming from within you when he's around, and Heeseung fucking hates it with his entire being.
So really, he can't help it when he completely loses the cool he so desperately tries to maintain around you the one he catches jay staring way too long at your ass for it to be a mistake. Thereâs nothing Heeseung would have loved more than to beat him to a pulp, for looking at his girl like that.
Except you're not his girlâhe hadn't even realized he really wanted you to be until thenâso he can't do that. What he can do instead is take it out on your poor unsuspecting pussy though.
"You are such a nasty slut," he whispers against your lips as he pistons into your weeping cunt, ignoring every attempt you make to kiss him, biting down on your bottom lip when you don't catch the hint. "Walking around in that tight black skirt, for what?" It feels like he's spitting venom at you, a primal edge to his tone unlike anything you've ever heard from him. Despite everything, you'd be lying if you said it didn't make your pussy clamp even harder around him, trying to milk his girth for all itâs worth.
You take too long to reply for his liking, his hand digging almost hurtfully in your face to force you to look at him. "For. What?"
"Iâ fuck, i don't know."
He looks at you incredulously, like you must've gone dumb on his cock already, while his movements come to halt, despite your little cries and begs for him not to.
"Yes you fucking do," he spits, grabbing your thighs and flipping you over onto your knees. A little scream ripped out of you at the sudden motion as he manhandles you in whatever way he wants, paying no mind to any possible aching body part of yours or any discomfort you may feel. "Wore it to flaunt this ass around, didn't you? I know you did."
He lands a harsh smack on the skin of your bottom, kissing his teeth in annoyance when your entire body jerks forward, front collapsing on the bed. He eases his cock back into you in one thrust, setting a pace that is somehow faster than earlier. "Wanted Jay to bend you over like this, huh?"
"N-no! Iâ ngh." Your rebuttal is cut short by his hips slamming into yours in a harsher thrust than the previous, his thick hand pushing your head against the sheets, uncaring of all the drool that's dripping from your mouth, your eyes rolling into your skull. He plants one of his feet into the soft mattress, the new angle helping him reach so much deeper inside you as the hold on your hips becomes nearly unbearable, sure to leave a flashy bruise.
Good, he thinks. Let everyone know I own you.
"Oh, shut the fuck up." He grabs some of your hair, using it as leverage to fuck into you even harder, the mix of pain and pleasure so unbelievably delicious you donât even know what to do with yourself if not just lay there and take it all. "Thatâs all a slut like you is good for anyway, shut her mouth and let me use her pretty pussy as I please."
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âwhen vi finally speaks, itâs not just her words you hear, but the weight of everything sheâs too scared to lose.â
part i.
cw: female reader, vi x reader, angsty, jealousy, emotional hurt, hurt-comfort, viâs emotional struggle, vulnerable vi, mention of caitvi's relationship, slow burn, spoilers s2. this is long writer's note: guys this is long!! i didn't even know how to do this part, i tried to make it as canon as possible to vi's character, and remember this is fiction, not hate <3-
vi didnât move immediately after ou left. she stood there, in the middle of the alley, listening to the sound of your footsteps fading away and feeling like with each one, something inside her broke a little more. your words still echoed in her head, louder than any punch she had ever taken in the ring.
"why are you acting like this is personal?"
she had said those words reflexively, without thinking, in an attempt to protect herself. but now, as she remembered them, all she felt was a sharp pang of shame. she had seen the pain in your face when she said them, had felt the weight of your emotions and how your words had been filled with anger and something deeper, something vi couldnât quite understand.
"why did it matter so much to her?"
it was the only question she could ask herself as she stood there, motionless. she had faced fights, betrayals, even death, but she had never dealt with something as confusing as this. she had never had to look at someone and realize she didnât understand what they were feeling.
caitlyn approached, breaking the silence with a tone that seemed to carry more judgment than compassion.
âviâŠâ
ânot now, cait,â vi replied automatically, with a harshness that wasnât aimed at her, but at herself.
but caitlyn didnât stop.
âvi, you have to let her go. itâs clear that this⊠whatever it is thatâs going on between you twoâŠâ
âyou donât understand!â vi raised her voice, turning toward caitlyn. her eyes were red, full of frustration and something caitlyn hadnât seen in her before: fear.
caitlyn raised her hands in surrender, but the damage was already done. vi felt the explosion of emotions inside her, a chaos of unanswered questions that pushed her to act, to move, even though she didnât know where to go.
"why does she care so much?"
vi started walking aimlessly, her footsteps echoing in the empty streets of zaun while her mind raced. the image of your face, of your eyes full of tears and pain, wouldnât leave her alone. you had said you were nothing, that you would never be anything, but even so, your words had been full of something more: broken hope, a love that seemed too strong to ignore.
"why does she look at me like that?" vi thought, clenching her fists. she wanted to hit something, wanted all that noise in her head to stop. but she couldnât. your words were still there, like an echo that wouldnât fade.
âi never asked her to stay,â she muttered to herself, her voice heavy with self-defense.
but as soon as she said it, she knew it was a lie.
vi stopped in a dark corner, leaning against the wall as her breathing turned erratic. the streets around her were empty, but inside her, everything was full of noise.
âsheâs the one who decided to stay,â she whispered again, trying to convince herself. but she couldnât.
every time she tried to come up with an excuse, your image came back to her mind: you, taking care of her on the days when she didnât even want to get off the floor. you, following her steps even when she yelled at you to leave her alone. you, looking at her like there was still something in her worth saving.
"why did you do it? why do you care so much?"
vi closed her eyes, her hands trembling as she tried to recall every word you had said. you had mentioned the darkest moments, the days when she punished herself in the ring, the days when alcohol was her only companion.
you had said you were there. that you had always been there.
vi felt something inside her break. you had been there, yes, but she had never seen it that way. she had never allowed those things to matter because⊠because if she did, she would have to face something she wasnât ready to feel.
"why did you do it?" she murmured, as if speaking to you, though you werenât there to hear her.
the answer came slowly, like a current breaking through the chaos in her mind. you hadnât done it for her. you had done it because it was what you felt. because you wanted to save her, even when she didnât want to save herself.
"you took it personally because it was always personal."
vi felt the air leave her lungs. it wasnât just that you cared. it was that you had always seen something in her that she couldnât see in herself. and now that she finally understood, now that the pieces were falling into place, you were gone.
she closed her eyes tightly, letting her head fall back against the wall. tears began to stream down her cheeks, hot and silent. she didnât try to stop them.
"iâm such a coward."
that was the only conclusion she could come to. you had been there, enduring her worst, taking care of her when no one else would, and she had ignored it all. and when you had finally laid your feelings bare, when you had exposed the full weight of what it meant to love her, vi had responded with doubt, with silence, with words she now knew she should never have said.
"why are you acting like this is personal?"
because it had always been personal.
â â
â
â
ââââ ⥠âââ â
â
â
ââ
vi turned the corner into the alley and saw you. you were sitting on the ground, arms wrapped around your knees, with your hair falling over your face, hiding your eyes. she knew youâd been crying. she knew because she recognized that posture, that way of curling up when the pain consumes you and you donât know how to keep going.
vi took a deep breath, forcing herself to take a step toward you. then another. and another. her boots echoed softly against the damp ground of the alley, but you didnât lift your head. not until she finally spoke, her voice low and tense:
âiâm here.â
those two words made you lift your head, though slowly, as if every muscle in your body weighed too much. your eyes, swollen and red, met viâs, and she felt something inside her crack at the sight of all the pain sheâd caused.
âwhy?â you asked, your voice broken but sharp enough to cut deeper than any shout.
vi swallowed hard, looking at the ground before forcing herself to meet your gaze again. her hands trembled at her sides as she tried to find the right words. but there werenât any.
âi canât leave you like this,â she admitted at last, her tone so low it was almost a whisper.
you laughed, but it was a bitter, joyless laugh. âyou couldnât leave me like this? that didnât seem to matter when you let me spill everything i was feeling, and you didnât do anything.â
vi pressed her lips together. she couldnât defend herself from that because it was true. she had left you alone, not because she didnât care, but because she didnât know what to do with what she felt. because she was afraid.
âi didnât know how to react,â she confessed, her voice still tense. she took another step toward you, though you didnât move. âi donât know how to handle this⊠how to handle you.â
your brows furrowed, your eyes shining with a mix of disbelief and anger. âand what does that even mean, vi? what the hell does that mean?â
vi took a deep breath, her hands trembling as she ran them through her hair, tugging at the short strands as if that would help her think.
âit means i care about you,â she finally said, and though her voice was low, every word came out with an intensity that seemed to fill the entire alley. âit means you matter to me more than i know how to handle.â
the weight of her words hung in the air between you, and vi lifted her gaze to yours, searching for some sign that it wasnât too late. but there was no response on your face, only a mix of emotions she couldnât decipher.
âif i really mattered to you, you wouldnât have done this,â you said, and your words were like a direct blow to her chest.
vi clenched her fists, but she didnât look away. she knew you were right. but that didnât make it any easier to face.
âitâs not that simple,â she admitted, her voice trembling slightly as she tried to hold herself together. ânot after what happened with caitlyn.â
the mention of her name made your expression harden, and vi noticed.
âwhat does she have to do with this?â you asked, though you knew the answer might not be what you wanted to hear.
vi closed her eyes for a moment, letting the weight of the truth hit her before forcing herself to speak. âcait⊠made me believe i could trust someone again. that i could be more than a broken fighter.â
your chest tightened at her words, but you didnât interrupt.
âand then, when things got bad, she left. she hit me, insinuated i was a monster, and walked away,â she continued, her voice cracking slightly at the end. her eyes filled with something you hadnât seen in her before: fear. pure, absolute fear. âit wasnât just what she said or did. it was⊠that she made me think something iâd never believed was possible. and then she took it away.â
viâs shoulders slumped as she exhaled, as if sheâd been holding her breath for too long. âi donât know if i can trust someone like that again. i donât know if i can let myself feel that again.â
her words fell over you like a weight, but you didnât let your expression change.
âthen why are you here?â you asked, your voice filled with pain and defiance. âif you canât trust anyone, why do you keep coming back to me?â
vi lifted her head quickly, her eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. she took another step toward you, this time lifting a trembling hand, though she didnât touch you.
âbecause itâs different with you,â she said, and though her voice was quiet, there was something in her tone that made it sound louder than any shout. âbecause you saw me when no one else did. because when i wanted to destroy myself, you wouldnât let me.â
vi lowered her hand slowly, her shoulders sagging as her voice softened even more. âbut you scare me too. because with you, i canât pretend. and i donât know if iâm ready for that.â
the silence that followed was deafening. you could see the internal struggle in her gaze, the way she was caught between wanting to move forward and the fear that kept her anchored to the past.
finally, you let out a shaky sigh, turning your eyes away. âthen i donât know what you want from me, vi.â
vi pressed her lips together, her eyes filled with something that looked like a silent plea. âi want to try. even if i donât know how.â
your chest ached as you listened to her, but you couldnât just give in. not after what youâd seen, after what youâd felt hearing her call her âcupcakeâ as if nothing you had done for her mattered.
âthis doesnât erase what you did, vi,â you said, your voice low but firm, trembling under the weight of the emotions you had tried so hard to hold back. âit doesnât change how i felt when i saw you call her that, like⊠like i didnât mean anything to you.â
vi blinked, her face contorting into a pained expression. her lips moved as if she wanted to say something, but you raised a hand, stopping her before she could start.
âyou donât get it, do you?â you continued, your words laced with restrained anger. âitâs not just the nickname. itâs what it represents. itâs how it makes me feel, like everything i did for you wasnât enough.â
vi opened her mouth, but her voice broke before any words could come out. finally, she took a deep breath, forcing herself to respond. âi didnât mean for you to take it that way. it wasnât because you donât matter to me.â
âand how am i not supposed to take it that way, vi?â you shot back, taking a step closer to her, letting the intensity of your words fill the space between you. âyou always say you donât know how to handle this, but it seems so easy with her.â
vi shook her head quickly, her eyes filled with something that looked like panic. âitâs not easy with caitlyn. it never was.â
the mention of her name made your teeth clench, but you forced yourself to let her continue.
âwith her itâs⊠itâs different,â vi admitted, her words clumsy but honest. âcait was always⊠what i thought i needed. someone who made me feel like i could be more than what i am. but with youâŠâ
she trailed off, her gaze dropping to the ground for a moment before meeting yours again.
âwith you, i feel exposed. and that scares me because i donât know if iâm made for something like this.â
you stood in silence, your breathing shaky as you processed her words. the anger burning in your chest still lingered, but there was something in her tone, in the way her hands trembled at her sides, that made your defenses start to crack.
âthat doesnât make it hurt any less, vi,â you finally murmured, your eyes shining with tears you refused to let fall. âbut at least now i know why.â
vi nodded slowly, swallowing hard as if admitting all of this had drained every ounce of energy she had. she took another step toward you, her voice lowering even more.
âi want you to trust me. i know i donât deserve it yet, but i want to try. i want this to mean something.â
for a moment, the weight of her words filled the space between you. it wasnât a perfect promise. it wasnât an immediate solution. but it was something.
you took a deep breath, looking away for a moment before locking your gaze back onto hers. âthen show me, vi. because if you ever make me feel like iâm not enough again⊠i wonât stay.â
vi nodded again, more slowly this time, and though her eyes still held uncertainty, there was something new in them: determination.
you didnât say anything else. you turned toward the alleyâs exit, your footsteps echoing softly against the ground as you walked away. vi didnât stop you this time, but she didnât take her eyes off you until you disappeared into the darkness.
she stayed there, motionless, her chest tight and the words she wanted to say stuck in her throat. she knew that this time, words wouldnât be enough. she knew she would have to show you that you could trust her.
for the first time in a long time, vi felt like she had something to fight for.
#arcane#vi#vi x reader#angst#arcane x reader#violet arcane#x reader#arcane spoilers#caitvi#vi x you#vi x y/n#vi fic#vi arcane#arcane x you#arcane x y/n#arcane x female reader#part 2#fiction
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Part two of monster!141 x chubby reader
Part One.
CW: reader isnât in a good place mentally and itâs affecting her reactions and the 141 absolutely take advantage of it. This is definitely not accurate in terms of reality. Reader has a lot of self-esteem issues, especially regarding her weight.
The thing is, you know you should be panicking way more. You know you should be fighting back, trying to think of an escape plan.
But you donât. Exhaustion clings to you like a second skin, and you simply decide you donât have any energy to do anything much- especially against shifters twice your size at the minimum. If they want to kill you, so be it. You doubt thereâd be anyone to miss you; your parents only ever cared about your other siblings, your friends werenât exactly your friends apparently, and you exâŠ
âPenny for your thoughts, dove?â The harpy whose lap you are perched on murmurs, wings fluffing out around you, the feathers soft and warm. You havenât been on any couches or cushions ever since you woke up here, always in one of their laps. You had been terrified at first, and fear still lingers even now, but all they do is hold you tight and occasionally sniff you. Nothing more.
âNot worth much.â You whisper, closing your eyes as you take a deep breath. The feathers around you rustle again, tickling your skin ever so slightly, and you can feel him nuzzle the crown of your head.
âI disagree,â Kyle says, voice musing.. The arms wound around your waist tighten, and you are pulled impossibly closer to him. Your head still finds it hard to believe just how strong they are- easily maneuvering someone even of your size like your weigh nothing. Your ex never bothered; often just made a passing mention that maybe heâd carry you like that if you hit the gym and lost a few pounds. âWorth quite a lot to me. To us.â
You donât have a reply to that; itâs still weird and unbelievable to you. Soulmates. What a joke. Even if they existed, you doubted anyone would like you like this. Not to mention the soulmate of a harpy, a werewolf, a dragon and a wraith? It sounded like a crappy plot youâd find while scouring the internet, written by a college student driven insane in their last year.
But they insisted they were right, and refuse to let you go, and now here you are being cuddled to one of them while the other three thud about upstairs. You can hear their voices, but not what they are saying. Though it sounds like they are quite busy.
âYou cold, dove?â Kyle asks when he feels you shudder again, at last wrapping his wings fully around you even before you can answer. The feathers are so soft, and he smells so nice, like jasmine and vanilla. You almost felt hungry, simply smelling him.
âNo.â The answer is quiet, croaked out tiredly. Sleep tugs at you even though it hasnât been that long since youâve woken up, the pounding, hungover headache long since dissipated.
You hate this syrupy slowness that lets you remain snuggled against him. You hate how safe you feel, despite your mind screaming at you otherwise. You donât know these men, donât know anything about them except their names, and yet your body has never felt quite this comfortable.
âSleep, precious.â Kyle croons, his hand rubbing down your back. He buries his face in your hair, still crooning, and leaves a trail of kisses across your temple. âSleep. You are safest and soundest here, with us.â
And so your eyes flutter shut, and your breath evens out; sleep comes to you as easy as breathing, and for one, ephemeral second, you donât worry about your weight being too much for him.
#noona.writes#cod x reader#cod#cod x you#tf 141 x reader#tf 141#tf 141 x you#cod imagines#john price x reader#poly!141 x reader#poly 141 x reader#poly 141#kyle gaz x you#kyle gaz x reader#kyle gaz garrick x reader#kyle gaz garrick x you#gaz x reader#johnny soap mctavish x you#johnny soap mctavish x reader#noona.posts#simon ghost x you#ghost x you#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley x you#simon riley x you#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#john price x you#soap x you
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you should do jinx giving reader a tattoo of her name đ
That's much better, isn't it?
Tags: possessive, jealousy, manipulation.
You are so active omg, is it because of season 2? I also have to say that this is quite proprietary and reminds me of a Yandere!Jinx.
This is starting to get annoying. Everything was going so well, and now?
Usually, you were always closely connected to each other, not just emotionally. It was so long and constant that it became an unspoken rule of Zaun. You've done many things, from having dinner together to revolution.
But now you've suddenly started going out "on business" too often. How could Jinx not worry?
Jinx followed yours next time. It's only for your safety, of course. A couple of hours, and she saw the root of the problemâthe weird girl you were discussing with. A small, about 20 years old. It was annoying that she caught your attention like that. Weird, painful, and absolutely unbearable. It took all of Jinx's strength to contain herself. These meetings continued, and, in fact, there was nothing too close about them. On the contrary, you kept your distance and spoke absolutely calmly. Which could not be said about this girl. She was strangely leaning towards you, constantly fixing her hair and trying to touch you all the time. Jinx was really nervous, waiting for the right moment to ruin everything.
The moment when you give in to her.
This did not happen, and the truth came to light.
Luckily, it was much more prosaic. You were sneaking off to meet a jeweler for a cute hair clip. It was a gift for Jinx for your third anniversary. With all the running around, she forgot about it. How awkward...
"So... this is for me, huh? It's very beautiful," her fingers slid over the chilling metal of the small pin. The shape of the curved cross suited her. She didn't know what kind of metal it was, but it shimmered blue and pink in the light, remaining chillingly black in the shadows. Beautiful.
"Cool, huh? I had to work hard to get this, but... whatever. It was worth it." You seemed happier than Jinx herself, leaning over in front of her as you picked up her right braid and wondered where to put it, "It might not be very practical, but I'm sure it's really cute. Don't worry if it gets lost, okay?"
You finally looked at your girlfriend and understood her mood. She shrank, looking tensely at the floor and picking at her pants with her nails. Stuck in her dark thoughts right now. However, having anticipated your next move, Jinx spoke up: "I have a gift for you too." It suddenly dawned on her; her eyes lit up, and her back straightened. Jinx was ready to flare up with impatience. "M.. yeah? I'm so glad it is. I like it already, trust me," you giggled, sitting down next to Jinx as she grabbed your hands in anticipation. The hairpin would wait on the table for now. "Oh, something unusual," Jinx sat you down with your back to her, stood up, and rushed over to a huge box of art supplies.
You sat quietly, expecting something like a painting or a painted gun. The same one you got last time. Two is better than one!
Jinx will always be unpredictable.
When the noise became more than an explanation, you finally turned around. There was a small table behind you with colorful bottles on it and... a tattoo machine? This can't be.
"Ta-dam!" Jinx sat down on a chair on one side of the table, gesturing for you to sit opposite. "What? Wait, wait, you want to give me a tattoo?" Your voice wavered. You loved Jinx and trusted her in many ways, but let her give you a tattoo? "Oh, come on!" Jinx rolled her eyes, slamming her head down on the table, "You think I can't do it? Don't tell me you didn't check out my tattoos. I got them myself, you know!"
This didn't give you any confidence.
"No, you know... I just don't know what kind of tattoo I want," you turned away, shrugging awkwardly. Jinx chuckled, propping her head up in her hands and licking her lips. "I already decided, toots. What could be cooler than your girlfriend's name, hm?", Her voice sounded confident. So you didn't take it as a joke. However, Jinx didn't let you answer, grabbing your hands and not very carefully sitting you down opposite. "You know, I saw you with that girl... I was worried," she started slowly and from a distance. "You did nothing wrong, and I didn't doubt you. And yet, people are very tricky," she paused, gently taking your hand and looking into your eyes, "So I would like you to have a small tattoo; how about you? I promise it will look stylish." That stumped you for a minute. Yes, you wanted your tattoo, and yes, you love Jinx. But getting one for that reason? "Please," Jinx looked at you with her doe eyes, and that huskiness in her voice was driving you crazy. "Oh, maybe just one, huh? A small one," you chuckled.Â
Of course, Jinx was manipulating you for what she wanted. In the most childish and stupid way, you just couldn't help but sneer. Was it a double game, and Jinx knew about your understanding from the start? It doesn't matter; She has already started working.
Pink is the most beautiful color, isn't it?
Despite her obviously selfish desire and rather daring start, Jinx did everything carefully. After all, it was your first time doing it, and she couldn't make you feel anything other than excitement and admiration. She was spinning around you, unable to sit still, turning on music, telling all sorts of nonsense, and taking breaks to relax. She just didn't want to make things worse than she probably already did.
It all ended quickly.
"That's much better, isn't it?", Jinx couldn't help but smile as she looked at the fresh tattoo on your skin. "You look your best, as always, toots." You liked it no less; it actually looked sweet. And very possessive. You liked this display of her love; this affection gave you a strange strength.
You smiled as you took her hand and said with a deliberately innocent look, "Okay, now it's your turn."
The problem is that you love her no less.
Still, there is not a word about yandere in the request, so she's just super jealous and possessive. I hope that the person who asked was thinking about something like this đđ»
#arcane x reader#jinx x reader#arcane jinx#arcane jinx x reader#jinx arcane#jinx x fem!reader#arcane#arcane headcanon#arcane league of legends#arcane netflix
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mascot || leah williamson x reader ||
you and leah have a talk about expanding your family after your nephew is leah's mascot.
"There's a canon on my shirt," Max, your nephew, proudly announced to the car. You felt bad about leaving Leah on her own for the morning before a game, but Max was supposed to be her mascot for the game today, and you wanted to personally deliver the boy. Your family would be down later, but you got to keep him to yourself for the morning and afternoon leading up to the game.
"It's the Arsenal canon. Pretty cool, right?" you asked him. Max nodded enthusiastically. You smiled as you turned your attention back towards traffic. It was a dreadfully long drive from your brother's place to London, but this was worth it. Besides, after the game, Max would get to spend some quality time at your parents' place for a bit.
You generally had busy days for most of Max's visits, compliments of your girlfriend. Leah loved having the boy over, and usually had a bunch of little things planned for the three of you to do together. Today, it'd be a chill day of brunch before you went to the game. Max was careful in keeping his Williamson jersey clean, which you thought was quite the feat for the boy.
"Is that my favorite bench buddy?" Alessia asked as she saw you in the parking lot. Max's face lit up as he saw the blonde. He was fond of all of the Lioness players. Since he had lived in England his entire life, he thought of himself as a proper little Englishman. You and your brother were absolutely besides yourselves trying to correct that, but it was a losing battle.
"Where's Leah at?" Max was hugging Alessia, but his focus was on your girlfriend. Alessia laughed, promising to bring Max to Leah once they were inside. You left took Max back so that Alessia could get dressed, unsurprised when Leah and Kim came out to see Max.
Leah went straight to you, giving you a big kiss while Kim had Max distracted. She handed him a little Scottish flag, something you knew that would end up as a decoration on your brother's desk. Max didn't care for Scottish stuff, but that wouldn't stop any of you from trying with him.
"Do you like my canon Leah?" Max asked. Leah nodded as she picked him up. You stepped back to let her have a moment with Max.
"Williamson, huh. I'm surprised that you didn't put your last name on there," Kim said. You shrugged at the comment, currently out from Arsenal for a bad injury. You knew that your whole career was at stake, but you had been trying not to think about it too much. You didn't want to freak yourself out too badly about things.
"Don't tell her, I want her to notice on her own. Also, Max insisted, claimed that he had enough of my stuff. I swear he loves Leah more than me," you huffed. It wasn't true annoyance, in fact, you were glad that Max loved Leah so much.
You wanted a family with her, but you didn't know if she wanted that too. Leah had been nervous at first around Max, claiming that she wasn't great with kids. You knew that was far from the truth now. She had a better maternal instinct than you did, and you had dreamed of being a mother since you were a baby yourself. A large part of your family had always been very traditional, so for a long time, you thought it was your only option. You were older and knew better now, and it was seeing how the world changed made you feel good about bringing a new life into it.
"Alright little man, we've got places to be," you told Max. He gave Kim and Leah big kisses goodbye, and made them promise to give Alessia and Beth some too. Max happily followed you over to where the other kids and their parents were waiting. He was a social butterfly, so he managed to make friends with several of the children around him.
He was lost in his own little world until Leah and the other players came. Immediately, he flocked to your girlfriend. Leah held his hand in hers, and you knew she wouldn't let go for anything. You stood back a bit, and snapped a picture of them talking to each other as both teams began to line up. You wouldn't post it, but you'd keep it for yourself and Leah to look back on later.
"Oi, Max is gonna stay on the bench, okay?" Leah shouted. You gave her a thumbs up. You found your spot in the friends and family section right by the bench just in case Max needed something. You filmed Leah walking Max out, and just how obvious it was that she cared for him. Those videos did go to your story, but it didn't seem odd for you to post Leah in the lineup. Everybody knew about your relationship, and a few dedicated fans even knew about her little adventures with Max whenever you managed to get him for an off weekend.
âŠ
"We probably could have taken him for tonight," Leah said as she watched your parents drive off with Max. She had held onto him all throughout the post-game celebrations. Leah even managed to talk your parents into going out for dinner just so that she could stay close to your nephew.
"Leah, I'd hate to burst your bubble, but we're second to my parents. That boy loves his Nanny and Papa," you told her. Leah knew that it was true. He may have asked to sit with Leah, but he had been talking your parents' ears off all night. Still, you hadn't missed the way that both Max and Leah seemed to lean into each other for comfort.
"Do you ever think that we'd make good parents?" Leah asked you. She leaned her head against your shoulder, eyes fixed on the night sky ahead of you. You could hear the apprehension in her voice, like she was afraid that you'd reject the ide of becoming a mother with Leah. Since the two of you had gotten serious about each other and your relationship, there wasn't a single person in the world that you could think to have a child with other than her.
"I don't know about myself, but you'll be a great mother. Nobody will do everything right, but I think that you'd probably come the closest," you told her. Leah lifted her head up and turned you around to face her. "I think that you could do good enough for the both of us."
"You sound fucking mental to me right now. Seriously, you're the most loving and caring woman that I know. If it's about Max, he just thinks that I'm cool. I can't even take care of myself without you, but you'd be fine without me," Leah said. She sounded so sure that you had to believe her, even if it was just a little bit. "I'd have a baby with you right now if I could."
"Well, I will be out for quite a while. There's still another whole surgery that I need and the physical therapy for it. What if we waited until the last surgery and then started trying?" you asked. Leah seemed a bit surprised, but you could tell that it wasn't a bad thing. "There's no rush to even think about it. I just thought that maybe it was something to throw out there."
"Yes," Leah answered quickly. Now, it was your turn for the shock to settle in. "I want to have a child with you, and this seems like the way to go. We don't have to tell anybody until it takes, and I mean, it's kind of perfect anyway. And if you decide that you don't want to go back at the end of your injury, you won't have to scramble around trying to find your place. I'll even step back from some things to really help out because I don't want you to feel alone for a second."
"Leah, this is a big step. Promise me that you won't get cold feet." You didn't mean to sound to scared, but Leah comforted you anyway.
"Never, I'd be an idiot to even consider it. You don't even know how lucky I feel to wake up next to you everyday. And the idea of having you and a baby? Babe, I'm over the moon already. Now, let's get home so that we can start on the process," Leah said as she grabbed your hand.
"I'm not sure that's gonna work," you laughed as Leah pulled you along.
"Simulation, it's very important!" Leah exclaimed. You continued laughing as she just scooped you into her arms and sprinted to get you into the car.
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2024 November 21st
INTO THE LAKE WITH YOU, MUD CHILD
My part of a retroactive art trade with @anxiousapplepie ! "Retroactive" because I was already drawing this before we agreed to make it part of a trade, heheh.
I read this post about their Role!Swap AU, and, like, multiverse shenanigans? Check. Characters goofing off and having fun? Check. Several opportunities for slapstick humor? Check. Conclusion: I really wanted to draw it. Physical comedy is my specialty. :p
This thing is kinda all over the place composition wise (looking at you, relative sizes of speech bubbles) because there is Too Much going on in these panels and I Did Not plan ahead of time, lmao. This was supposed to be doodlier than it ended up being, so as a growing pain it's a funny jumble of consistency. One of these days I'll be able to doodle without getting carried away. đ
More rambling and close-ups under the cut
This interaction in particular is what nudged me over the edge to draw this whole thing. I don't know what Fighter Mirabelle's malfunction is when it comes to the Siffrins, but it lets me make Sif the butt of a joke again, so yeehaw! His hat being catapulted out of frame made me laugh when I was thinking of what to do with the composition-complicating hat in question.
Also my personal take is Siffrin is 100% having the time of their life here. Making new(?) friends? Being involved in a fun group activity? Well worth inhaling some puddle water and having to go jump in The Lake to wash the mud off later.
Bonnie being so furious they changed art styles wasn't in my original plan, but I'm so glad I thought of it on a whim because it made me laugh Every Time I looked at their face. đ
Time taken on this whole thing was 42 hours and 50 minutes. AND. I KNOW THAT SOUNDS BAD. IF YOU KNOW I'M TRYING TO SPEED UP MY ART PROCESS. But this project gets a special pass. This was the farthest out of my art comfort zone I've been in a while! 13 (mostly) full-body characters at various complicated angles, 2 backgrounds, learning to use CSP's perspective rulers, effects I'm not used to like water splashes, etc etc. I made progress on speeding up sketching & line art as well! Some of the lines you see are just extremely cleaned up sketch. I was able to let myself fudge things more too. For example, Mira's dress is a very "dude just trust me" simplification because I don't know how the clothes folds would work at that angle. ^^;;
So while there's still a handful of things I'm not happy with, it's worth it for the learning experience and perfectionism-busting progress! Also for the sake of drawing silliness, of course.
Oh, lastly; the KO sprite is the one from in-game, so it was made by insertdisc5 and not me.
#in stars and time#isat#ISAT Role!Swap AU#isat bonnie#isat odile#isat isabeau#isat mirabelle#isat siffrin#comic#fan art#2d art
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ONE THING ABOUT BEING THE QUEEN OF DELUSIONS? IT GIVES YOU A LONG WAY TO FALL
p.s. this post isnât pretty, it wasnât worth my time, or effort.
Hey Upper East Siders. Gossip girl here. Usually iâm here to help you fix your life, but @loaisacult, this oneâs for you. And I canât name any upper east siders more desperate than, wellâŠyou. Itâs pitiful I know. But you can cry about it later, if you havenât ran out of tears already, that is.
I donât mean to start a fight, but thereâs a weak link in every chain, and it just happens to be you.
I know you express your belief in the law of assumption being a cult. The funny thing is, when people donât like something, they usually walk away, unless it bothers them that much. And the even funnier thing is, you complain about bloggers âpreachingâ the law of assumption, and getting others to follow. But what are you doing? Preaching your ideologies, in hopes that others will follow you too. Oh whatâs that word againâŠhypocritical was it?
And oh sweetie, no one cares about your irrelevant opinions enough to affirm â@loaisacult doesnât exist, @loaisacult doesnât existâŠâ Talk about a weak argument. I hope law isnât your major. But you know what is major? Your idiocy.
Calling people on this app suicidal? Pathetic. Although I canât tell you that isnât true. Because to some extent, it is. And iâd agree with you if you werenât so ignorant. But I guess changing self in terms other than just loa isnât your cup of tea. Bloggers are not meant to be personal therapists for people in the loacommunity. And yes there are and were previously some bloggers who would get suicidal asks from anons and just respond to them to persist. But why are you generalising EVERYONE in the community? Your point is immediately invalid. So because there were some immoral bloggers who would act that way automatically means that the whole entire practise of the law of assumption is a CULT? Hello? Do you hear yourself?
Letâs use your âlogicâ here. Say gossip girl makes a post telling her followers to worship satan. Therefore the whole entire loa community must ALL be satanists! Now how ridiculous is thatâŠ
Yes there are liars, everywhere. Oh iâm sorry, did that come as a surprise to you? You didnât think the world was rainbows and sunshine did you? Well unless you assume it is. But at the same time, there are honest people too. Yet you like to pick and choose what to focus on. Look me in my virtual eyes and tell me that Lady gaga isnât one of the most famous people on the planet. Oh wait..you canât! News flash, she manifested that. And so did many of your other favourites. Yet you choose to focus on liars, because thatâs what you want to believe. Of course a close minded, one sided argument is your way to go. Disregard everything else in the process why donât you.
âIt's ironic how some boast about manifesting luxury items like Lamborghinis, which could easily be rented, yet they fail to manifest meaningful change for their followers who are in abusive situations.â - l.o.s.e.r
B-b-but didnât you say that you used to be a big blogger? So why didnât you attempt to do the same? (As if! it would only work if they assumed so). But honestly, you donât sound like someone who is educated on the law, you sound like those desperate anons in bloggers inboxes asking bloggers to manifest for them. Because why is that the point you used? To manifest for followers? Were youâŠone of thoseâŠfollowers? Talk about holding a grudge. No wonder why youâre so mad. If I had a dime for how many times you got rejected iâd be a millionaire.
âWant to prove to your followers who are spiraling about the American election rather than post persist hehehee how about you manifest for themâŠ.. change the election revise lifeâs an illusion while youâre crying about having your rights taken away lol but you canât.â - l.o.s.e.r
Run upper east siders, weâve got an idiot on our hands. Making a point on something completely false. If you really understood the law, youâd know that you canât manipulate somebody elseâs reality, unless they assume you can. But itâs not to my surprise that you didnât know that, of all people. Last time I checked, itâs YOUR imagination, and nobody elseâs. So WHY would YOUR 3D reflect THEIR imagination? And you claim to be a blogger educated on the lawâŠquite a âbigâ one too. I cant name any âbigâ bloggers whoâve misinformed the law THAT bad. Talk about liars nowâŠ
At this point, itâs PAINFULLY obvious that you were one of those anons begging bloggers to manifest for you. Because youâre SO mad that bloggers donât do that for people. They canât really because it depends on your assumption. Iâm not even making an invalid point here. Itâs just so obvious. âWant to prove to your followers.â âhow about you manifest for themâ đ Iâm literally in tears because of how funny this is. Iâm sorry that no blogger has proven it to you or manifested âfor youâ, and youâve carried that hatred with you and projected it onto the whole loa community. And the only reason you continue to believe that the law of assumption is real (rightfully so) is because you know that thereâs way too much proof of it to even attempt to dismiss it without looking like a fool. And maybe a fraction of that belief comes from your hope, because without the law, everything youâd ever hoped for would be out the window.
In short, you make points about âwhy donât you manifest for your followers đ„șâ Well, I donât know if you knew this butâŠthereâs this concept called free will. And just because someone chooses to not do something, doesnât mean they canât. Is common sense just not part of the package for you? It seems the point flies right over your head faster than you can catch it, and the only thing that doesnât land, are your âpointsâ.
But if you still donât understand me, letâs use a little bit of your so -called logic here.
âLoa is real manifesting is real shifting is real but most people in this community lie and are culty 99.999% of the stories here are lies the people doing that shit donât even post abt it probably think theyâre in some dream most of the success here are creative writing and living in the end.â - l.o.s.e.r
From YOUR logic, couldnât I just ask you to manifest that the liars donât exist and that you no longer view the law of assumption as a cult? So why havenât youâŠ? Youâll ask anyone questions but yourself. And if they think it was a dreamâŠthen how did they send their success stories to bloggers? Did I miss an update because last time I checked, you canât do that in a dream. See, your points are fuelled by complete hatred, not logic. You truly donât believe what youâre telling yourself and others. Embarrassing.
And donât get me started on how statistically IMPOSSIBLE that is. Do I even have to explain why? I promise you, thousands of people are NOT lying for the pure fun of it. Thatâs just not how the human mind works. Wouldnât they rather shit on loa just like you rather than posting success stories hoping itâll happen?I didnât know talking out of the wrong hole was in fashion these days. But then again, not everyone has style. And if thereâs one thing money canât buy, itâs class. Was that a moth? Mustâve flewn right out of your wallet.
Now donât get me wrong, iâm not bothered to read your whole blog and all the nonsense you cry about and debunk every little thing you say. Because trust me, common sense does the job for me.
Have fun continuing to âpreachâ your delusional idea of the law being a cult to yourself and your little followers. Like sheep. One after the other.
Donât even think about trying to respond to me, as if anything you say makes sense.
P.S. Iâll delete this post later, I donât like having drama on my blog. This is my first and last time addressing you. I just donât want people in this community, including my lovely upper east siders to listen to idiots like you telling them that all the success stories theyâve read are fake, when that is so obviously not true. Only someone who hasnât consciously the experienced the law for themselves would doubt others so badly, and you used to be a âbigâ blogger you sayâŠThe fucking audacity. But then again, itâs hard to believe in something you havenât experienced for yourself (is it?), but at-least donât get caught in a lie. Disrespectfully, shut your mouth and donât open it again.
- gossip girl
#loa tumblr#loassumption#loa blog#loablr#affirm and manifest 𫧠đâš ÖŽÖŽÖ¶Öž Ù Ë#manifestation#loa#the void state#neville goddard#law of assumption blog#loa success#law of manifestation#edward art#living in the end#void state#live in the end#law of assumption#void
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ID: a screenshot of opâs tags, reading:
and before one of u is like " i have no friends :(" i used to be there too actually #abusive partner cut me off from ALL of 'em. i didn't think i was lovable #it made me EXCEPTIONALLY shy. i still am actually!!!! #i just ⊠started saying "yes." #i would take pictures of flyers in my library and go to whatever events they had #i started taking community classes #if someone mentioned like "i am gonna start x group" i actually took a deep breath #and approached them to be like . okay i want in. #i started making the first move with new people - a small compliment #a smile or a little joke. just to share the space with them. #i have MASSIVE social anxiety. bad parent and bad relationship will do that to ya. #but i just⊠kept going. and going. and going. to each of these little things. and then⊠#like. âŠ. idk i just am very blessed. i have a STUPID number of friends #a lot of which i reconnected with. bc it turns out love is never wasted. adult life just. #like. gets in the way. but also⊠i loved u as a weird little kid. i love u now as a weird big adult. #i promise i PROMISE ur friends are out there. u just have 2 find them. and btw #i didn't make friends with everyone. but i did get a lot of people to smile or laugh. #aint that something. #this process took me something like 2 years. it was HARD!!!!!!!!! #i love u!!! hard things are often worth it!!!
end ID.
having good & true friends will literally save and protect you in a million unfathomable ways. like okay we have written so many times about lovers. but the way a platonic friend laughs and cries with you. the way they hold your hand at 14 years old and at 34. the way they keep a little silver tie to you, touching base over and over and over. how you can go years without talking, only to re-meet and discover: oh shit! you're still cool!
there are people who have been in my life for more than half of it, and i have loved every version of them. do you know how fucking beautiful that is. yeah love will save the world. but the way friends love you is gonna save the you.
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Hello, I wanted to ask you a little drabble with all the arcane characters.
Like how they fell in love with reader ( like what captured their attention etc)
It would be pretty cool in my opinion.
Have a wonderful day\night.
Aaaugh, I made of made this a bit long-(really long, that was sarcasm) I'm splitting it into two portions
Jinx-
Jinx didnât know what to make of you at first. You werenât loud or flashy like the people she was used to dealing with. You werenât trying to prove anything, and yet, there was something about you that screamed different.
She first noticed it when you didnât flinch at one of her explosionsânot the way most people did, anyway. The boom had rattled the room, shaking dust from the rafters, and yet, there you were, brushing soot from your shirt like it was just another Tuesday.
âNice touch with the blue sparks,â youâd said, nodding at her latest contraption. âAdds flair.â
Flair? Most people wouldâve called it destruction. Most people wouldâve screamed or run. But you? You tilted your head, eyes bright, genuinely impressed, and for a moment, Jinx was at a loss for words.
It wasnât just that you didnât fear her; it was the way you saw her. You noticed the little thingsâthe care she put into her work, the way she tinkered endlessly to perfect her machines. While others saw chaos, you saw art, and for someone like Jinx, that was everything.
The next time she saw you, it was intentional. She didnât need to bring you a gadget sheâd been working onâit wasnât even finishedâbut she wanted to see how youâd react. Sure enough, you examined it like it was the most fascinating thing in the world, pointing out details she hadnât realized anyone else would notice.
âThis is genius,â you murmured, tracing a finger along a carved design sheâd barely remembered adding. âYou really think through every detail, donât you?â
Her heart did something weird then, like skipping a beat but more⊠explosive.
From there, it snowballed. You became her favorite person to show her creations to, the only one she trusted to see her work before it was ready. You never judged, never laughed when something misfiredâjust smiled and asked how you could help.
And Jinx? She realized sheâd fallen for you one day when she caught herself trying to impress you. The realization hit her like a grenade: she didnât just want you to like her inventionsâshe wanted you to like her.
âYouâre somethinâ else, you know that?â she said one night, leaning against her workbench, tools scattered around her. Her voice was softer than usual, almost unsure. âMost people donât get me, but⊠you do.â
Youâd just smiled, that easy, genuine smile that had hooked her from the start. âThatâs because youâre worth getting.â
And just like that, Jinx knew there was no going back.
Vi â
Vi wasnât looking for anyone. She didnât have time for soft moments, not with everything she had on her plate. But then you came along, and she couldnât help but notice how you carried yourselfâsteady, calm, unshakable.
The first time she really noticed you, it wasnât some grand, sweeping moment. It was quiet. You were helping some kids in the Lanes patch up a rickety swing they used to pass the time. Nothing fancy, just you, a coil of rope, and that determined look in your eyes.
She hadnât meant to stop and watch, but something about you drew her in. Maybe it was the way you didnât hesitate to get your hands dirty or how the kids laughed around you, their faces lighting up despite everything the Lanes threw at them.
âYouâre good with them,â she said after working up the nerve to approach you, trying to sound casual.
You glanced up at her, wiping sweat from your brow, and gave her a smile that hit her like a sucker punch. âSomeoneâs gotta be. They deserve better than this, donât you think?â
It wasnât just your words that stuck with herâit was the way you said them. Like you meant it. Like you actually believed in something better, even when the world gave you every reason not to.
From then on, Vi found herself noticing you everywhere. The way you stepped up when others hesitated. The way you didnât back down, even when things got messy. You had this quiet strength about you, the kind that didnât demand attention but earned it anyway.
She started finding excuses to stick aroundâhelping with repairs, walking the kids home, sparring with you in the courtyard when the opportunity came up. And each time, she found herself drawn to you a little more.
âYouâre somethinâ else,â she admitted one night, sitting beside you on a crumbling wall, the cityâs broken skyline stretching out before you.
You raised an eyebrow at her, clearly amused. âThat so?â
âYeah.â She rubbed the back of her neck, uncharacteristically shy. âMost people wouldâve given up on this place a long time ago, but not you. You stick it out, no matter how hard it gets.â
You shrugged, your gaze softening as you looked at her. âSame could be said about you, Vi.â
That was the moment it hit herâlike a punch she didnât see coming. It wasnât just admiration anymore. It was something deeper, something she couldnât ignore.
She fell for you in pieces, each small moment stacking up until it all clicked. It wasnât about grand gestures or dramatic confessions. It was the way you fitâlike you were exactly what she didnât know she was missing.
And when she finally worked up the courage to tell you, your answer came with that same steady smile that had captivated her from the start.
âFigured it out, huh?â you teased, and she rolled her eyes, though her grin gave her away.
Yeah, she figured it out. And she wasnât letting you go.
Sevika-
Sevika didnât believe in love. In the Lanes, it wasnât something people had the luxury of chasing. Survival came first, and attachments were just liabilities waiting to stab you in the back.
But you were⊠different.
The first time she noticed you, it wasnât because you were trying to catch her attention. You were too busy holding your own, stepping into a dispute between two gang members over stolen supplies. Sheâd leaned back in the corner of the Last Drop, watching the chaos unfold, ready to step in if things got messy.
But then you surprised her.
You didnât raise your voice or threaten anyone. Instead, you stood tall, calm as you defused the tension with a few sharp words and an unflinching glare. You had this presence, like you werenât afraid of anyone in the roomânot even her.
âBold move,â Sevika had said when you approached the bar afterward, ordering a drink like you hadnât just stared down two brutes twice your size.
You glanced at her, your lips quirking into a small smirk. âSomeoneâs gotta keep things from falling apart.â
That was the moment she started paying attention. You didnât just survive in the Lanesâyou thrived. You didnât let the weight of the place crush you like it did everyone else. And more than that, you cared. Not in some naive, starry-eyed way, but in a way that made you fight tooth and nail for the people who couldnât fight for themselves.
It pissed her off at first. The way you carried yourself like you werenât afraid of the darkness around you. She thought it was reckless, stupid even. But the more she watched, the more she realized it wasnât recklessness. It was conviction.
You werenât scared of getting your hands dirty, but you never lost sight of what mattered to you. Thatâs what got under her skin, what kept her coming back to the same barstool night after night, just to see what youâd do next.
She started finding reasons to stick around. Sometimes it was to share a drink, other times to offer backup when things got rough. You never asked for her help, but you didnât push her away either, and that intrigued her more than she cared to admit.
One night, after a particularly close call with one of Silcoâs rivals, you patched up a cut on her arm, your hands steady as you worked.
âYouâre too damn stubborn for your own good,â she muttered, watching you through half-lidded eyes.
You chuckled, your touch gentle as you tied off the bandage. âTakes one to know one.â
It was such a simple moment, but it stayed with her. The way you looked at herânot like she was some feared enforcer, but like she was just⊠Sevika. It wasnât something she was used to, and it scared her as much as it thrilled her.
Over time, she realized she was looking for you in every crowd, waiting for the nights youâd sit beside her and trade sharp banter over a drink. She fell for you quietly, begrudgingly, like it snuck up on her before she could stop it.
And when she finally admitted itâto herself, to youâit wasnât some grand confession. It was a gruff, almost reluctant, âYou mean more to me than you should.â
Your response? That same infuriating, endearing smirk. âTook you long enough to figure that out.â
Sevika huffed a laugh, shaking her head, but the truth was, she didnât mind. Because for once, letting someone in didnât feel like a weakness. It felt like strength.
Silco -
Silco had always been a man of control, ambition, and sharp edges. In the underbelly of Zaun, survival demanded nothing less. Trust was currency, and affection? A distraction. He had long since accepted that power was the only thing worth chasing.
But then you appeared.
You werenât loud or showy, not one of those people clawing for his attention. No, you worked quietly, efficiently, in the background of the chaos he ruled. You were just another piece in his intricate machine at firstâjust another person serving a purpose.
What caught his attention first was your unyielding patience. Where others in the Lanes were frantic, desperate to prove their worth, you moved with a calm certainty, like you werenât afraid of the storm around you. You fixed what was brokenâtools, machines, even peopleâwithout asking for anything in return.
One night, youâd been tending to one of his injured men after a skirmish, your hands steady as you stitched him up in the dim light of the hideout. Silco watched from the shadows, curious. The man hissed in pain, and you responded with a soft laugh.
âHold still, or Iâll sew you up crooked,â you teased, your tone warm but firm.
It wasnât the words that struck himâit was the way you carried yourself. There was no fear in your voice, no need to prove yourself to anyone. You didnât care about earning his favor or gaining power. You just⊠were.
For someone like Silco, who thrived on manipulation and control, it was unnerving. People were supposed to want something from him. But you? You treated him like a man, not a king.
It wasnât long before he started seeking you out. At first, it was subtle. A lingering glance as he passed through the room, a quiet question about your work. You always answered him honestly, without flinching under his piercing gaze, and it left him unsettled in a way he couldnât quite name.
One evening, after a particularly brutal day, he found you sitting by the docks, staring out at the toxic waters of Zaun. The tension in his shoulders eased slightly at the sight of you, though he didnât understand why.
âYou should be careful out here,â he said, his voice low as he stepped closer.
You glanced over your shoulder, smiling faintly. âAnd miss the chance to breathe? I think Iâll take my chances.â
It was such a simple thing, but it stayed with him. In a world that demanded constant vigilance, you allowed yourself to simply exist. It was a quiet defiance, one that intrigued him more than he cared to admit.
Over time, you became a constant presence in his life, slipping through the cracks of his carefully constructed walls. It wasnât grand gestures or impassioned declarations that made him fall for you. It was the quiet momentsâthe way you never cowered under his gaze, the way you challenged him without hostility, the way you saw him for more than his scars.
One night, as the two of you shared a rare moment of silence in his office, he finally allowed himself to admit what heâd been feeling.
âYouâre dangerous,â he said, his voice soft, almost amused.
You raised an eyebrow, leaning back in your chair. âDangerous? To you?â
He smirked, though there was no malice in it. âYouâve managed to do what no one else has.â
âAnd whatâs that?â
âYouâve made me want something I didnât think I needed.â
Your smile widened, warm and unguarded, and for once, Silco didnât feel the need to look away.
In you, he found something unexpected: a quiet kind of strength, the kind that didnât demand attention but commanded respect. And for a man who had spent his life fighting for control, letting himself fall for you felt like the ultimate rebellion.
Vander -
Vander wasnât a man who fell in love easily. His life had been shaped by too much loss, too much responsibility. The people of the Lanes leaned on him, and he carried their weight with quiet strength. Love, to him, felt like a luxury he couldnât afford.
But then, there was you.
It wasnât some grand moment that captured his attentionâit was the small, steady things. The way you moved through the chaos of the Last Drop, keeping the peace in your own quiet way. The way you never demanded his time but somehow always knew when he needed someone to sit beside him in silence.
What struck him first was your kindnessânot the soft, fragile kind, but the sort that had edges. You didnât let people walk over you, but you never hesitated to offer a hand to someone in need. In a place like Zaun, where survival often demanded selfishness, you were a rarity.
He noticed it one night when a brawl broke out in the bar. Two rowdy patrons had nearly overturned a table, and before Vander could step in, you were already there. You didnât raise your voice or throw a punch. Instead, you placed a firm hand on one of their shoulders, your calm, measured tone cutting through the tension.
âSave it for the street, boys. We donât spill blood where we share drinks.â
To his surprise, they listened. Vander couldnât help but chuckle as they slunk off, muttering apologies.
âGot a way with people,â he said later, handing you a drink as thanks.
You shrugged, offering a small smile. âJust trying to keep things from falling apart.â
Those words stayed with him. It was how you carried yourselfâlike you were always holding the pieces together, not because you had to, but because you chose to.
Over time, he started finding excuses to be near you. A quick conversation here, a shared drink there. You had a way of making him feel⊠lighter. Like he could let go of the weight he carried, even if just for a moment.
It wasnât until one quiet evening, after the bar had emptied, that he realized how deeply youâd settled into his heart. You were sitting on one of the tables, cleaning up a spill, humming a tune under your breath. The soft glow of the lanterns lit up your face, and for a moment, Vander just⊠watched.
âYouâre staring,â you said, not looking up.
He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. âCaught me.â
You glanced at him then, your smile warm and teasing. âWhatâs on your mind, big guy?â
He hesitated, uncharacteristically unsure. But then, he decided to just say itâVander was never one for dancing around the truth.
âYou. The way you care about this place. The people. Me.â He exhaled, leaning against the bar. âNever thought Iâd find someone like you in all this.â
Your eyes softened, and you set down the rag in your hands, crossing the room to stand in front of him. âYouâre not so bad yourself,â you teased gently. âTook you long enough to notice me.â
He laughed then, a deep, rumbling sound that made your chest warm. âOh, I noticed. Took me a bit longer to admit it.â
And when you reached up, resting a hand against his face, he leaned into your touch, his eyes closing for just a moment. In you, he found something he hadnât realized he neededâa steady flame in the chaos of the Lanes.
Ekko -
Ekko didnât believe in distractions. The Firelights needed him, the Lanes needed him. His days were spent fixing the mess left behind by Piltoverâs greed and Silcoâs reign. He had no time for anything elseâleast of all love.
But you? You didnât give him much of a choice.
It wasnât a single moment that caught his attention. It was a collection of them, like the pieces of a clock coming together. He first noticed the way you movedâquick and deliberate, like you belonged to the rhythm of the chaos around you. No hesitation, no wasted motion. Whether you were patching up one of the Firelights after a mission or organizing supplies in the hideout, you carried yourself with a quiet confidence that made it impossible for him not to watch.
What hooked him, though, was your laughter. The first time he heard it, he froze. It had been after a particularly rough raid. Everyone was tense, the weight of the day pressing down on their shoulders. And then you cracked some jokeâstupid, honestly, but something about the way you delivered it had everyone laughing, including Ekko.
That was when he realized it: you didnât just survive the Lanes. You thrived in them. You brought light into a place where most people only saw shadows.
It started smallâan extra second spent talking to you, a lingering glance when he thought you werenât looking. Heâd catch himself gravitating toward you without even meaning to, drawn to the way you lit up a room with just your presence.
But it wasnât until one night, long after the others had gone to sleep, that he truly understood how deep youâd gotten under his skin. You were sitting by the glow of a makeshift lantern, tinkering with some piece of tech youâd salvaged. The light cast shadows across your face, highlighting the curve of your cheek, the focus in your eyes.
âBurning the midnight oil?â he asked, leaning against the doorway.
You glanced up, a small smile tugging at your lips. âSomeoneâs gotta keep this place running.â
He stepped closer, hands shoved into his pockets. âYou do too much, you know that?â
âSays the guy who can barely take a break,â you shot back, raising an eyebrow.
He huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. âFair point.â For a moment, he just stood there, watching you work. The quiet stretched between you, comfortable and warm.
âWhy do you do it?â he asked suddenly.
You paused, looking up at him with a tilt of your head. âDo what?â
âCare so much. About all this.â He gestured vaguely, as if to encompass the entire hideout, the Firelights, the Lanes.
Your gaze softened, and you set the piece of tech aside. âBecause someone has to. And because⊠I believe in you, Ekko.â
The sincerity in your voice hit him like a punch to the gut. You believed in him. In a world that seemed determined to tear him down, you stood beside him, unwavering.
âI donât deserve you,â he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.
You smiled, reaching out to take his hand. âGuess youâre stuck with me anyway.â
That was the moment Ekko fell. Completely, irreversibly.
Jayce -
Jayce had always been drawn to brilliance. Invention, ambition, ingenuityâthey were the cornerstones of what he admired in others. And yet, none of it had ever prepared him for you.
The first time he saw you, it wasnât in a polished Piltover workshop or a grand council meeting. It was in a small, crowded market on the edge of the Undercity, where the scent of oil and metal clung to the air. You stood at a stall, bartering for scraps and materials like your life depended on itâbecause, as heâd later learn, it did.
What caught his attention wasnât just your resourcefulness or the sharp wit you wielded against the vendor. It was the way your eyes lit up when you held a seemingly useless part in your hands, already envisioning the endless possibilities it could unlock.
He didnât even mean to approach you. His curiosity had a mind of its own. âWhat are you going to do with that?â
You turned, a little startled, but you didnât back down from his inquisitive gaze. Instead, you held up the twisted hunk of metal like it was a crown jewel. âTurn it into something brilliant. Youâll just have to wait and see.â
It wasnât arroganceâit was certainty. And Jayce, who had spent his life chasing impossible ideas, saw a kindred spirit in you.
From that moment, you became an enigma he couldnât resist unraveling. Every conversation revealed new layers to your ingenuity, your resilience, your unshakable belief in making the impossible possible. And the more time he spent with you, the more he realized it wasnât just your mind that captivated himâit was your heart.
You were unafraid to challenge him, to push him, to remind him that the world wasnât just equations and theories but people and dreams. Your passion reignited something in him he hadnât realized heâd lost: a love for the why, not just the how.
One evening, as the two of you sat side by side, tinkering with a device in his lab, he found himself watching you instead of the work. The way your hair caught the light, the quiet determination in your expression, the soft smile when something finally clicked into place.
âYouâre staring,â you teased without looking up.
He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. âI justâhow do you make everything seem so effortless?â
You grinned, glancing at him with that spark heâd come to love. âItâs not effortless. I just donât let the hard parts stop me.â
In that moment, he knew he was a goner.
Jayce Talis, the golden boy of Piltover, had fallen in love with youânot because of what you could build, but because of what you built in him: a renewed faith in the beauty of dreaming big, of chasing the spark no matter where it led.
And it apparently led to you.
Viktor-
Viktor didnât notice you at first, not in the way others might have. He was too focused on his work, his mind consumed by blueprints and equations. But you⊠you were patient, always there in the background, asking questions no one else dared to ask, seeing things no one else cared to notice.
It was one of those late nights in the lab when you caught his attention. He was hunched over a schematic, frustration etched into every line of his face. You, seated quietly at the far end of the room, had been watching himâthough youâd never admit it aloud.
âDid you eat today?â your voice broke through the silence.
Viktor didnât even look up. âIâm fine,â he replied, a rote answer that wasnât convincing in the slightest.
You set down your work and crossed the room, standing just out of his peripheral vision. âFine isnât food, Viktor.â
When he finally looked at you, there was something in your eyes that made him pause. It wasnât pity or condescensionâtwo things heâd grown accustomed to. It was understanding, genuine and unyielding, as if you knew exactly what it felt like to lose yourself in something bigger.
That was the first moment he realized you were different.
It wasnât the last.
You had a way of grounding him, of pulling him out of his own head without judgment. Your presence was quiet but powerful, a steady force that didnât demand his attention but earned it nonetheless.
What truly captured him, though, was your mind. You didnât just accept the world as it was; you questioned it, challenged it, sought to understand it. You werenât afraid to debate him, to push back when you thought he was wrong, and yet you did so with a respect that made him listen.
He found himself looking forward to your late-night conversations, the way youâd linger in the lab long after everyone else had gone home. Youâd ask about his workânot just the mechanics but the why behind it, the hopes and fears he buried beneath his relentless drive.
One evening, as you sketched out a rough design on a scrap of paper, Viktor caught himself smiling. Not at the drawing, though it was clever, but at you. The way you bit your lip in concentration, the furrow of your brow, the quiet hum of satisfaction when you got something just right.
âYou are remarkable,â he said softly, almost to himself.
You glanced up, surprised. âWhat?â
His cheeks flushed, and he looked away, fiddling with a wrench. âNothing. Just⊠your ideas. Theyâre⊠innovative.â
But it wasnât just your ideas. It was youâthe way you saw the world, the way you saw him. Not as a man constrained by limitations but as someone capable of more.
You believed in him, not just in his work, and that was something Viktor hadnât realized he craved until you offered it so freely.
And as the days turned into weeks, then months, he realized something else: He believed in you, too.
It wasnât some grand epiphany or dramatic moment. It was in the quiet, shared glances, the lingering touches when you handed him a tool, the way his chest felt lighter when you were near. Somewhere in the midst of late nights and whispered dreams, Viktor had fallen in love.
Not just with your mind or your presence, but with the way you made him feelâseen, understood, whole.
And for a man whoâd always fought against the odds, loving you felt like the greatest invention of all.
#arcane x reader#arcane imagine#x reader#arcane headcanon#jinx arcane#arcane vi#character x reader#jinx x reader#vi arcane#arcane#silco x reader#sevika imagine#sevika x reader#silco#arcane jayce#arcane victor#victor arcane#arcane vander#vander
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and iâll never see you again if i can help it
ex!joel miller x f!reader
summary: after breaking up with Joel, you take an opposite patrol shift to avoid him at all costs.
warnings: smut and angst
âThe first time I tasted somebody else's spit, I had a coughing fit
I mistakenly called them by your name
I was let down it wasn't the sameâ
The cold nighttime air startled your lungs as you stumbled outside. Before you had time to acclimate, his lips were pressed against yours. You drunkenly kissed him back, him being some guy you met at the Tipsy Bison whose name you couldnât even be bothered to recall. You got a taste of his spit, bitter from the alcohol he just drank. You forced yourself not to gag which caused you to pull away and cough violently, the crisp November air certainly not helping.Â
He looked at you under the dim street lamp and chuckled, âYou okay?â
Tears sprung at the corners of your eyes as you continued your coughs and struggled to catch your breath. He rubbed your back as your coughing fit came to an end.Â
That was nice of him.
When the coughing finally dissipated you resigned to kissing him again. He pressed you against the side of the building and worked on your neck, leaving sloppy, wet kisses on your soft skin.
You started to moan a little and as he kissed and sucked on your neck, you subconsciously moaned âJoelâ.Â
He stopped. You felt the blood rush to your cheeks and your face grew hot. He slowly pulled away from your neck and looked you in the eye.Â
ââŠWhat did you just say?â
You didnât know what to say. Itâs not like you could tell him the truth, âOh I was just moaning my exâs name.â That would crush him. You stared at each other under the streetlamp and through puffs of your visible breath. The expression on his face was a mixture of disappointment and betrayal.
âI- IâŠâ you stuttered out.
He shook his head and muttered âForget itâ before turning and walking home, leaving you alone in the dark street with nothing but the shame you felt.Â
âIâm doing fine, trying to derail my one-track mind
Regaining my self-worth in record time
But I canât help but think of your other in the bed that was mineâ
You sighed and went to walk home yourself, the shame already melting away. Itâs not like it was going to be anything serious anyway. Who cares if you called him by the wrong name? Youâre still healing from your breakup with Joel anyway. You were bound to be a little messy here and there. The shame had started shapeshifting into pride of some kind. But all that changed when you saw him leaving the Tipsy Bison. And no, not the random guy from before. This time him being Joel. And he was with a woman. They were clearly drunk and practically hanging off of each other. How had you not noticed him inside earlier? And as they walked towards the direction of Joelâs home, the home that you used to share with him, you heard something rare; Joel was laughing. Jealousy stirred a pit in your stomach. Your hands clenched at your sides. Tears sprung in your eyes again. The shame returned but this time for a different reason. You were ashamed you no longer had a rebound. You wanted to prove to Joel that you didnât need him; that you were moving on. But instead, you were standing in the street feeling jealous, watching him walk home to fuck someone where he used to fuck you.Â
âAm I a masochist, resisting urges to punch you in the teeth
Call you a bitch and leave?â
You wanted to yell after him; tell him to stop; ask what he thought he was doing. Maybe even call him a name or two. Maybe throw him a punch. Maybe not the punch though. That was just drunk you talking. You didnât really have a right to do any of those things anyway. You were broken up. He was free to move on to whoever he wanted. You turned on your heel and walked home, head hanging low in humiliation. You returned to your empty home, collapsing into bed and finally letting the tears flow now that you were alone. You thought about what Joel was doing with her. Was he kissing her? Were they holding each other? Were they in what used to be your bed with Joel? Did he have the same attention to detail with her pleasure that he used to have with yours? It made your stomach twist into knots. The alcohol mixed with the feelings of regret, longing, and nostalgia; all of it fusing together, leaving you nauseous. You ran to your bathroom and emptied the contents of your stomach into the toilet. You sat on the floor, rested your head against the toilet seat, and sobbed, the tears making your face sticky and puffy. You knew you were gonna look like shit tomorrow, eyes puffy and bloodshot, all the color in your face faded. And to make matters worse, you had a daytime patrol shift with Joel tomorrow. The thought of him seeing you like this was mortifying. You wanted him to think that you were moving on; that you didnât need him anymore. But that was far from the truth.Â
âWhy did I come here? To sit and watch you stare at your feet?Â
What was the plan? Absolve all your guilt and shake hands?â
You woke up that morning with a splitting headache. The morning sun creeping in through the windows didnât help either. You rose from your bed slowly, the aches in your body starting to set in. You went to the bathroom and took a look at yourself in the mirror. The bags under your eyes were a deep purple and the life was sucked from your face. You thought about Joel seeing you like this⊠which led you to think about him waking up with her this morning. The pain that that thought gave you was indescribable. It tore at your stomach and your heart, leaving them with heavy pits. You leaned over the bathroom counter and took slow, deep breaths, heading facing down at the sink. After talking yourself down from the impending mental breakdown you got ready for your patrol shift, slipping on your clothes and grabbing your gun on the dresser before exiting into the brisk morning. You put your pants in the pockets of your jacket and stared at the ground as you walked, not trying to make eye contact with anyone as Jackson was waking up for the day.Â
You reached the main gate to find Joel waiting there, too, also looking at the ground. Tommy and a few others were waiting as well. You wordlessly headed to the stables, mounting on your houses for the patrol. The tension between the group hung heavy in the air, thanks to you and Joel. Everyone in town knew about your breakup and how messy it was. Nobody dared to say a thing as you and the group exited through the gate and spread out along the walls of Jackson. Somehow you and Joel ended up next to each other, neither of you looking in the otherâs general direction. The strain and hostility between you two was so strong it was pliable. It felt like a weight being pushed down on your shoulders. And thatâs how most of the shift wentâ you and Joel next to each other or walking by each other on your horses, never making eye contact. It was awkward for you, him, and everyone else unfortunate enough to be on the same patrol shift with you guys. If only you could switch patrol shiftsâŠ
But your thoughts are interrupted when Joel speaks, startling you.Â
âCan we talk?â
Really? Now?
âI donât really think here is the best time or placeâŠâ you said, glancing at the others around you.
âMeet me at the diner after our shift?â he asked in a hushed tone.Â
The diner in Jackson had a service for patrol shift workers to stop in for coffee whenever they needed it. Going to the diner after your patrol shifts was something you used to do together. Now, you avoided that place like the plague, finding it to be painful to go to.Â
Your brow furrowed, âSure, I guessâŠâ
He nodded silently and led his horse in the opposite direction around the fence. You didnât see him much for the rest of your shift. And when you did you didnât really look him in the eye. The day seemed to drag on, the sun getting lower and lower in the sky. At the end of your shift, you headed back to the stables and dismounted from your horse, starting the walk to the diner. Jackson was bathed in a warm red glow, a beautiful sight on a normal day but you were too nervous to appreciate it. As you approached the diner you saw Joel through the window, sitting at a booth, looking down at his hands.
âI feel no need to forgive but I might as well
But let me kiss your lips so I know how it felt
Pay for my coffee and leave before the sun goes down
Walk for hours in the dark feeling all hellâ
You entered the diner with a ding from the bell attached to the door. Joel looked up from his hands and met your eyes. You wordlessly walked to his booth and sat across from him, not knowing what to say. But again, Joel spoke first.
âIâm sorry you had to see that outside the Tipsy Bison last nightâŠâ
So he did see you. That made this so much worse.
You sighed, âYou donât have anything to apologize for. Weâve been broken up for like a month now.â
âI know but that doesnât mean I donât care for you or your feelings anymoreâŠâ
He looked at you with a solemn expression on his face. Before either of you could say anything the waitress came over to take your order.Â
âCan I get you two anything else besides coffee? Something to eat?â
Not in the mood to eat. Not during a talk like this.Â
âJust the coffee for now,â you replied.Â
âSame for me.â
âIâll be right back with those,â she said before, turning and heading behind the counter.Â
âI mean⊠I forgive you I guess?â
He nodded and reached your hand across the table.
But why? Why is he doing this if he supposedly moved on? You missed him, though. And youâd be lying to yourself right now if this didnât make you at least a little bit happy.Â
You took his hand and sighed, rubbing your thumb across his.Â
âWhy are we doing this? I thought we were supposed to be moving on. Iâve been trying to, at least.â It physically pained you to say those words but it was what needed to be said. He canât just go home with another woman and then come back to you apologizing. He either wanted you or he didnât.
He didnât answer. The waitress returned with your coffees and you sipped on them silently; the warm liquid soothing you after a long day out in the cold.
You continued, âI just donât get whatâs going on here. It all feels like a mixed signal.â
âI want to move on. I really do. But when I try to move on I find myself feelinâ guilty. And it doesnât help that we work the same patrol shift. I see you all the time and anytime I look at you, I just feel guilty.â
âIâll make this easier for both of us, Joel,â you said, giving him a sad smile. âDonât worry about me. Just live your life.â
Something compelled you to give him one final kiss before it was over forever. You leaned over the booth and gave him a quick, chaste kiss, even though you would regret it later. Before he could say anything in return, you slid out of the booth and stood up, getting ready to leave.Â
âGoodbye, Joel,â you said before leaving him behind, in the past where he belongs.Â
âDonât hold your breath, forget youâve ever saw me at my best
You donât deserve what you donât respect
Donât deserve what you say you love and then neglect
Now bite your tongue, itâs too dangerous to fall so young
Take back what you said
Canât lose what you never hadâ
The sun was setting. The people of Jackson were heading towards their homes, but not you. You walked through the dark streets, in a melancholy haze. You missed him so much but there was a reason your relationship ended. But still, you found yourself reminiscing on the good times; the patrol shifts together, him teaching you how to play guitar, laughing together with Ellie. But he didnât love you the way you needed to be loved. It was understandable given all he went through. But he didnât need to tell you he loved you and treat you otherwise.Â
You met each other in Kansas City after FEDRAâs control there collapsed.Â
And when you first got together he would always tell you to be careful falling for him. You were a lot younger than him. Looking back, he was probably right. But he stopped trying to fight your feelings towards him and just accepted it. And thatâs all it most likely was at the end of the day; him just accepting you, not loving you back. At least thatâs what you thought. Maybe there was a part of grumpy, stoic Joel Miller that loved you deep down. And if that part of him existed, he was terrible at letting it out.Â
It wasnât a breakup where one person broke up with the other. You both felt it coming for a while. The greatest love youâd ever known (or thought youâd ever known) slipped through your fingers. And you both felt it was time to cut it off. That was a little over a month ago and it hasnât been any easier since.
After a while the frigid night turned into dawn. You stayed out the whole night, loafing around. Soon it would be time for your patrol shift but you thought about what Joel said.
âAnd it doesnât help that we work the same patrol shift. I see you all the time and anytime I look at you, I just feel guilty.â
âYou got a 9 to 5, so Iâll take the night shift
And Iâll never see you again if I can help it
In five years I hope the songs feel like covers
Dedicated to new loversâ
You spotted Tommy walking to his patrol shift and thatâs when you got the idea: ask for the night shift.
âTommy!â you shouted, âWait up!â
He stopped walking and turned to face you. You jogged a little bit to catch up with him.
âHey,â he said wearily, taking in your current state. âDid you go to bed last night?â
âNo⊠But I actually had something I wanted to ask you.â
âShoot.â
âWould it be alright if I took the night shift instead?â
He let out a small sigh. He knew what this was about.Â
ââŠI donât see why not.â
âThanks. Can I start tonight?â
âYeah, thatâs fine. Go home and get some sleep,â he said, looking at your tired face.
âThanks, Tommy,â you replied before walking home.
You didnât see Joel walk to his shift. Maybe he was already there. Maybe he would notice your absence. Maybe he wouldnât care. Maybe he would be relieved.Â
You walked inside and went straight to your bedroom, peeling off the clothes you had been wearing for the past twenty four hours. You slipped on something to wear to sleep and crumpled into bed, exhaustion taking you over. You still found yourself dreaming of Joel. You dreamt of when he taught you to play guitar. He knew some songs from before the outbreak but not a ton. So a lot of the songs you made up on the spot, not necessarily accompanied by singing either, something neither of you were skilled at. But it was something you two did together. It was something that made the detached Joel Miller enjoy himself for once. Maybe one day he would play those songs for someone else or forget yours and make up new ones entirely. Maybe he would teach her how to play guitar. Maybe he would give up that hobby altogether after you, finding it too painful.Â
You slept throughout the whole day, waking up a couple of hours before your night shift. You opened your eyes groggily, not adjusted to the light coming in through the windows yet. You rubbed your eyes and opened them to see a tall, looming figure standing over your bed.
âWhat the fuck?!â you shouted, sitting upright.Â
You blinked a few times and your vision focused. It was just Joel and he had a scowl on his face.
âJesus Christ, Joel. You scared the shit out of me,â you said in an annoyed tone, trying to quell your racing heartbeat.
âThe fuckinâ night shift?!â he said gruffly, still towering over you.Â
âAnd what about it?â you challenged, folding your arms.Â
âWhat was the fuckinâ reason for it,â he replied, sitting across from you on the bed.
âThought about what you said yesterday⊠Seemed like the right thing to do if weâre gonna move on from each otherâŠâ
He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.
âYeah, but you donât go and do something rash like that.â
âSomething rash? You mean just swapping my work schedule? Last time I checked I didnât have to consult with you about that.â
He fell silent so you continued, âYou canât just say youâre done with me; that youâre trying to move on, and then come here and get upset because I changed my work schedule. Iâm sick of the fucking mixed signals, Joel. You either want me or you donât.â
You finished your little speech with a loud sigh, sounding annoyed as fuck. The audacity of this man was unbelievable. He can take home some other woman the night before but come to your house, when youâre sleeping, and get all possessive? Enough was enough.
You scooched closer to him on the bed.Â
âSo whatâs it gonna be, huh? Make up your fucking mind.â
Without warning his lips crashed against yours. His kisses were messy and sloppy. And almost angry. His hands found themselves in your hair. This was the exact opposite of what you should be doing but you didnât care. You missed him so much.Â
He pushed against you, coaxing you to lie down on the bed. And when you did, he hovered over you with a hungry, insatiable look in his eyes. He returned to kiss you messily while his hands roamed the rest of your body, trailing down to the pants you were wearing, thumbing at the waistband. You moaned softly underneath him and he pulled off your pants, tossing them on the floor. His hand grazed up your thigh, resting on your cunt that was growing wet in anticipation.Â
âBet you missed this,â he whispered against your ear.Â
You let out a small whimper in response as his fingers teased your entrance, brushing against the wet, tender flesh.Â
âYouâre already so wet for me, darlinâ.â
Darlin. That was an older pet name Joel had given you. And itâs been a while since youâve heard it. That fucker knew exactly what he was doing. He knew all the ways to make you melt under his touch.Â
You spread your legs open for him, gaining him access to slip a finger inside you. His mouth found your neck, peppering it with sloppy kisses. You rocked your hips against his hand, desperate for more. And when he finally gave you another finger, you felt the pleasure in your core building more and more.Â
His mouth left your neck and trailed down to your entrance, licking small, soft circles around your sensitive clit. You knew you werenât gonna last long like this, his fingers hitting your g-spot perfectly and his tongue caressing your clit in a way that sent you into intense euphoria. He always knew how to get you cum quickly and hard.Â
âIâm gonna cum, Joel,â you whined.Â
He moaned against your clit in response, letting you know he wanted to feel it. And when you did cum, it was intense. Your cunt fluttered around his fingers as he pumped them in and out of you relentlessly. You soaked his face in your cum as you rode out your high, rocking your hips against him. Once you were done coming, you collapsed your hips back down on the bed, legs still shaking.Â
You were catching your breath when he looked up from your cunt and said âNot done with you yet, darlinâ.â
He stood up from the bed for a moment to remove his clothes. You took the moment to sit up and pull off your shirt over your head, tossing it on the floor with your pants. He returned to the bed and hovered over you by your face.Â
âReady for me?â
You nodded and he aligned himself with your entrance, thrusting his hard cock into you extra slow to drive you insane. He took your legs and put them over his shoulders before you even had time to adjust to his size. Itâd been a month since youâd taken his cock and you werenât used to his size anymore.Â
He leaned down so you were face to face, legs pushed back towards your head hitting the perfect angle inside you. It was intense and all you could do was moan and whimper as he fucked your wet, little cunt incessantly.
âCanât tell you how much I missed this perfect cunt, darlinâ. Itâs like it was made for me.â
Between his dirty talk and the angle he was hitting inside you, you weren't gonna last long. You felt your walls tense up in anticipation of release. He sensed it too and thrusted in and out of you harder and harder, anxious to feel you cum around his cock.
âGive it to me, sugar. Cum on my cock.â
And when you did, it nearly sent him over the edge. He willed himself to wait until your release was over before pulling out. Stars prickled your vision and tears welled up in the corner of your eyes. Your release was intense, convulsing his cock like a vice. As he felt your orgasm come to an end, he pulled out. You reached in between your legs and stroked him to completion, coating your stomach in thick, white ropes of cum.
He slumped down on the bed next to you, burying his face in the crook of your neck. Neither of you dared to say a word as the feeling of regret started to sink in. You let your thoughts run wild as if to avoid talking about what just happened.
âYou got a 9 to 5 so Iâll take the night shift
And Iâll never see you again if I can help itâ
Maybe you couldnât help it after all.
#pedro pascal#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal smut#pedro pascal x reader#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x you#joel miller x reader#joel miller smut
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Nobodyâs gonna get any pleasure from reading things you were the first one to get no pleasure from since you didnât bother to write them down.
Like genuinely writing down raw ideas like âI was thinking maybe Obi-Wan started a diary a long time ago, heâs reading it now way after killing Anakin and realizing he fell in love a long time ago and let his feelings drive his actions in a way he swore he would never allow them toâ or something like that. As long as itâs your thought.
Also, donât you even get excited by your ideas? Donât you get the nagging impulse and need to write them down? Donât you write parts of a story in your head word for word before putting them on paper as fast as you can? Have you also never thought that you could write a story, leave it alone, go back to it and realize you love that story, that itâs exactly up your alley, in the style you love, with the themes you care about? Donât you want to have a history of your ideas and stories, re-read them chronologically and see your improvements in real time?
Because you canât get any of this if you let a computer do all the work. And if you canât imagine the satisfaction of writing a story yourself, looking at it and thinking âI did pretty goodâ, then I donât think writing is for you. Maybe your ideas are meant to be put in a song, or in a comic book, or in a painting, or in a short movie or whatever. But you genuinely arenât adding anything of value to the world and you arenât doing anything for your self-esteem and confidence by letting a machine live whatever parts of your inner life you donât think are worth living in first person. And most of all, the world doesnât âneedâ your stories. The world goes on with them or without them. You do. You need your own voice. And youâre doing yourself a disservice by shutting it down in favor of letting others tell you what to do.
By the way, at no point I even implied I was going to tell you to kys. But think about what you wrote: thatâs you, telling yourself something you may need to think about and work through. I donât want to know what it is and I donât know why you wrote that last part, but whatever it is, itâs worth addressing and working through with whatever means you have, going at your own pace. But Iâm not gonna tell you to kys. Iâm going to tell you to be kind to yourself.
just saw a fanfic on ao3 have a dedication for chatgpt... that section is meant for your horny perverted mutual who proofread your work, you violated sacred law and you will be torn apart and laid bare btw
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Okay so after sitting on the responses from yesterday's question, I have some follow up questions to what seemed to be some consistent... Themes in the answers.
Like yesterday, I am asking with intent to listen (and maybe ask more questions) so I will not be arguing- at best, you'll get a "hm" to acknowledge i saw what you said.
My follow up questions:
1. There are a lot of people who think they're the only one who would speak up. Imagine what would happen if everyone who thought they were the only one... Spoke. But even if you do think you're alone... Why is antiracism not worth standing alone for?
2. There is a difference between feeding the trolls and speaking up when something wrong is happening. Do you feel people are more comfortable assuming the former so that they don't have to interact via the latter?
3. Why do we think that bigotry will go away if it goes unaddressed? Is that how you also feel about bigotry that you experience via your other identities?
4. Why should we entertain and prioritize the annoyance of bigots? Why do you not deserve to be here and have a safe, comfortable space any more than they do?
5. What do we plan on doing when Black fans lose their patience due to disillusionment? Are we okay with the outcome of that, of choosing... Well, being racist but safe? (Be honest with yourself!) Would we rather Black fans just accept that it's easier to assume everyone is antiblack, the same way it's easier not to speak up against it as a social norm? If we want to show that there is still a welcome for Black fans, that we are safe, why don't we act to show that?
6. If everyone only hangs around people who aren't antiblack, why is the space still so overwhelmingly antiblack? Have you considered that you cannot adequately judge from within?
7. No one really answered my "what is the boundary" question at all. What I should have asked is, are you willing to recognize that you have a willing tolerance for antiblackness? That there is a certain amount that you are okay with allowing before thinking it's worth speaking up?
*I also want to note that I'm not directing this to Black fans. I know that the context changes when you have to fight. I'm asking the people who have the privilege of fighting antiblackness while not having the identity. I.e. some marginal power in the area.
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