#cause you never know when something might happen
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Very funny that tumblr is having discourse about whether my art is misinformation or not, after I've been posting it all over the internet for years without any controversy. So let's talk about it!
I know people arguing are a vocal minority, but I'm not going to dismiss anyone's concerns. It's an actually interesting topic that I really consider, and it touches some important issues in society. So here's my (rambly) two cents.
My art is meant to misdirect, in some way. Photomanipulation and the tone I typically use are meant to briefly confuse the person reading it into thinking they're hearing a real story, at least for a few seconds.
The Intended Experience™
In this sense, I feel like my art can be misinformation! And it's not only people who don't think critically about things like "how come I never heard about mermaids being real before?".
So, no disrespect to anyone that fell for one of my pieces! My work plays with reality, so if you fell for it for more than a minute, it just means my tone and style worked a little too well for you! And there are legitimate reasons to be confused when you see something online, too. For example, there are people who can have trouble telling real and fictional things apart. When you post something that goes out to a million people, you'll get one million different reactions.
That's why I always take care to make it really clear, outside the main piece and snippet of text, that my art is no more than fiction. There are tags, the tone of my account, even my profile picture is meant to reinforce this. I also have a website which, in part, is meant to capture the clicks of people to wonder if my stuff is real and google it, so they can find a real source that's clearly an art website. You can try googling "mycelium infection 1806" or "pupillosarcoma" to see how my website tends to appear first.
If I get this comment I know I've done something believable!
But let's say, for the sake of argument, that my art wholly constitutes misinformation. What we need to understand is that misinformation is not the same as disinformation. Misinformation is just incorrect information. It's your grandma seeing a little bit of a found footage movie on TV and thinking it really happened. She might be spooked, but nobody is harmed. Disinformation is false information that's purposefully crafted and spread in order to cause harm, division, or further a political view.
Now I ask you: what real world harm does my art create? The worst that can happen is that a tiny percentage of those that see it get a little scared thinking a weird bug is real, or that mushrooms really grow on faces, or that scientists have released millions of trilobites into the oceans. Is that really that bad?
Anyway, that's my take on the topic! I'm obviously biased, but this being my style, I do put a lot of thought into it and I'm always open to people's opinions! (Just don't scream at random people on the replies or you'll get blocked!)
#long post#rambly thoughts#hope it's easy to understand my meaning. please lmk if something is unclear in the replies!
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♡ I watched it begin again - LN 4 ♡
Summary: You've moved on and found happiness... when Lando reappears and tells you something you truly never expected to hear, but something you had also wished for for so long.
Author's Note: this is the much awaited part 2 to 'i wish you would've stay'. i wanna say a quick thank you to those who read part 1 and shared your thoughts on it, it really made me feel so special 😭 this part would not have been written without yall <3
WC: 2415
CW: fluff, maybe a very little amount of angst? pettiness, if you squint there's a sort of thrupple, or whatever the 4 count of that word is, hinting, overuse of song references
“Okay, I think it’s done.”
“Yay! I can finally see this masterpiece you’ve created.” you smiled.
“Eh, masterpiece is a bit of a reach. But I definitely tried my hardest to capture your beautiful soul.”
“Ohhh, shush you. Flattering me so much.”
“It’s so you don’t hate me after you see this monstrosity.”
“Okay, enough yapping. Show me.”
You watched as he took a deep breath and turned the sketchbook towards you.
“Oh. My. God.” you try to stifle your laugh.
“Why are you laughing?” Gabe chuckled.
“I’m not laughing. It’s beautiful. Oh my- Where were you when it was time for senior photos?”
“No. Fuck off. That’s rude.” you watched as Gabe tossed a pillow at you and tried to refrain from laughing as hard as you are.
You were laughing so hard it was getting hard to breathe and tears were rolling down your face. Being with Gabe always felt so high school in a way. There was no pressure or drama within this place. It was just love.
You and Gabe have been dating for a little over a year and it’s been the greatest time of your life. When the two of you met, you really weren’t looking for anything. You were focused on work and getting your life in line when he happened.
Since he’s come into your life, it’s like everythings brighter. And while that may sound cliche, it’s true. He makes everything feel miniscule, like as long as he’s there at the end of the day, everything will be okay.
He was something new as well. For so long, you had spent your time around boys and their expensive cars like range rovers and Aston Martins, but Gabe is just Gabe. He’s a real person who enjoys the same things that you do and he truly loves you for you. And he loves spending time with you. On your first date, he wasn’t ready for the date to be over, so he asked you to walk around Kohl’s with him. And still, to this day, he asks if you want to walk around Kohl’s together, just for a few more moments with you.
He was the king of your heart.
“Oh shit, I gotta get going. I have that meeting with Matt tomorrow about working on that album.” Gabe said as he stood up from the couch and stretched, “Can we meet for lunch? I don’t think I can wait all day to see you again.” pulling you closer to him, softly gripping your waist.
“Definitely, I might be a bit late cause I need to talk to Marjorie about letting me in on that case.”
“Amazing.” he said as he pressed his lips to yours, feeling your soft lips on his and pouring himself into you.
The two of you pull apart and you walk him to the door of your apartment.
“See you tomorrow, my love.”
“Call me when you get home, please.”
“Oh, I don’t know.” Gabe jokes, “At home, I’ve got to greet the most demanding and most precious person in my life. She deserves all my attention.”
“Olive is a cat and she is far from precious.”
“You’re just jealous she prefers lying on me rather than you.”
“We’re girls! There’s a girl code and she’s not sticking to it.”
“I’ll see if I can talk some sense into her then. For the love of my life.” Gabe says, pecking your lips one final time before walking off.
“Save some time for me.” you called out.
“All my time is yours, my darling.”
He turns the corner and once he’s out of sight, you step back into your apartment and close the door. You turn your back to press against the door and you couldn’t help the giddy smile that spread across your face. Even after all this time, he still makes your heart skip.
You started to get ready for bed and had just settled into your bedsheets when your phone started playing your ringtone for Gabe, ‘Never Gonna Give You Up’ by Rick Astley. You don’t remember exactly how it became one of your songs, but it somehow made its way there. You’d even joked with him how if the two of you ever broke up, you hoped that Rick Rolling would become a thing again so that he would be tormented with the thought of you.
You picked up the phone to hear some shuffling on the other line. “Hello?” you call out.
“Hey, sorry. I was just taking off my jacket. I made it home.”
“Amazing. How’s home?”
“It’s okay. Would be better if you were here with me.”
“You just spent all day with me. Are you not sick of me?” you half-joked.
“I could never be sick of you. You’re my favorite thing the universe gifted us on earth.”
“Stop. You’re gonna make me cry.”
“I’m sorry, my love. I don’t like making you cry, unless it’s from laughter. Ya know, you’re really pretty when you laugh.”
“Only when I laugh?” you poke.
“Nuh uh. You’re always pretty. So pretty that it almost kills me. But I really like it when you laugh. Especially when I’m the one making you laugh.”
“I like it when you make me laugh too.” you are practically melting at this man's words. He always has you wrapped around his finger and you think he knows. But little do you know, that’s how he feels about you.
You turn to look at the clock by your bedside and sigh. Even after having him all day, somehow you just want him more.
“I gotta go to sleep now, my angel. If I sleep now, I can get at least 7 hours of sleep.” you huff.
“You should really sleep earlier so you can actually sleep well. We both know you’re not sleeping 7 hours with your sleeping habits.”
“Yeahhhh. Whatever. I’ll see you tomorrow, darling.”
“I’ll be waiting, love.”
The silence sounds after the beep. Was this what true love felt like? Is this how it feels to be loved? How long has it been since someone made you feel like this? For a while, you thought the plane was going down. But someway, somehow, Gabe turned it right around. He would literally break his back to make you break a smile. For the first time ever, you were falling in love with someone who was falling in love with you.
The next morning, after some strenuous phone calls and exhausting meetings, you excitedly made your way to the restaurant you were meeting Gabe at. You were running a bit early so you decided to take the scenic route to the restaurant, knowing Gabe wouldn’t be there for another 20 minutes.
You were enjoying the afternoon sun and the fresh air that came with it when you heard something from behind, “Y/n?”
Why does this person sound familiar? He sounds like… like someone but you can’t quite place your finger on it.
“Y/n, is that you?”
When you turn to see who it is, you’re met with them. Those eyes, the eyes you used to dream of. But now they look different, they look so dull and tired. His frame looks lighter and his smile looks torn.
“Lando?”
“Wow, you look, I mean you look beautiful. You haven’t changed a bit since the last time I saw you.” he says, giving you a soft, shy smile.
“Yeah. It’s been quite some time.” “Sorry. Uh, how have you been?”
“I’ve been good. Really good, actually. How about you? How’s Hannah?”
“I’ve been okay and ehm, Hannah and I broke up last year.”
“Oh no. I’m sorry to hear. But I’m sure you’ll find someone. There’s plenty of fish in the sea, as they say.”
“Yeah. I’ve actually been thinking about you recently. Like, a lot.” he softly huffs.
“Oh.”
“I’ve been meaning to reach out but I wasn’t sure how. I’m actually glad I ran into you now.”
“Lando, I think you-”
“No, please. Let me explain myself, please.”
You stood there for a beat, not knowing that to say. You couldn’t get a single word out. Why? It was just Lando.
He watches your face, trying to study it and read what you’re thinking, but he can’t, “I have a lot to get off my chest. I won’t take long. Please.”
“Okay.”
With a deep inhale, Lando begins “I fucked up. Big time. I never should have, essentially, ghosted you. All you ever did was love me and care for me. But I just went off and dated another girl cause I didn’t realize it at the time. Y/n, if we’re being honest, I’m still in love with you. And it took a long time for me to realize. Everything is nothing without you. I’m nothing without you. I miss you so much and I regret ever letting you go. Can we start fresh, please? I won’t let you go this time. I’ll hold you closer than I ever did before.”
“I can’t. You hurt me a lot. It took me so long to realize I was going to be okay without you. It took me a long time to realize that it wasn’t my fault for you leaving. That I am good enough and capable of being loved. I’m happy now. I found someone that I love and who loves me. Like, truly loves me. He made me realize that nothing was wrong with me.”
“Oh. I didn’t know you were seeing someone. But, does he really make you happy? Happier than I ever made you?” there are tears brimming his eyes.
“Yeah, he does. I don’t get it, Lando. I was happy for you when you met Hannah, why can’t you be happy for me?”
“Because I know you still feel something for me. And I truly believe that the universe brought us here today for a reason. Our story isn’t over, y/n.”
“It is over. You can say we’ll be together someday, but things have changed. We’re not the same people we were before and I found my person.”
“So why can’t I stop feeling this way?” he says, a tear slipping down his face. “Because you’re human.” you say, reaching your hand to cup the side of his face, but you don’t. You stop yourself before your fingertips can feel his skin beneath yours because it isn’t fair to him.
“Do you regret me?” he asks through a wavering voice.
“No, I don’t regret you. You were one of the most beautiful chapters of my life and you taught me a lot. You know, I used to look for you in a sea of people, knowing you weren’t there. It’s kinda stupid cause we never really existed but-” “We did exist. Just not in the way we should’ve. The way we could’ve if I wasn’t a massive fuck up.”
“You’re not a fuck up. Listen, there was happiness because of you and there was happiness after you. That’s just the way life goes. So there will be happiness after this.’’
“I don’t want there to be an after you. I’m trying my best. I pray that you’ll come back to me one day. And if you do, I’ll give up my hopes and dreams in F1 cause I’ll have my biggest dream of all. You.”
“You can’t change things by loving someone harder. I used to wish you would’ve stayed. But this isn’t a fairytale where you’re my knight in shining armor. I found someone who actually treats me well. And the cost of trying isn’t greater than the reward of having me, to him. He actually loves me and wants to be with me. I used to be so naive and I would get so lost in your eyes, I didn’t realize that being in love wasn’t fighting to have the upper hand.”
He’s near sobbing when he tells you, “I want to believe I haven’t lost you.”
“I’ll always be here for you. But I can’t be with you. It’s too late, Lando. My heart doesn’t soften to your name anymore.”
“Do you think there’s even a slight possibility that you could fall in love with me again?”
You look at him. This was the boy you once loved. The one you would’ve done anything for, even after everything he’d done. You used to wait for him to love you again. But now all you see is the boy who broke your heart and left you bereft and reeling.
“No. I hope you find love, Lando. I really do. But it won’t be me. Not anymore.”
With that, you turn your back to him and walk away. It might’ve been harsh, but you couldn’t stand there any longer. The result wouldn't be different if you’d stayed longer and comforted him. You’re happy with Gabe and he has never given you a reason to doubt him. You’d been hurt enough by Lando. But every little moment led you right to where you should be.
When you finally arrived at the restaurant, Gabe was already there. When he sees you, it’s like he saw you for the first time. There was a sparkle in his eyes and the toothiest grin spread across his face.
He stands to greet you with a kiss that could heal every wound that might have reopened today. He pulls a chair out for you and takes his seat right at your side.
“Hi, baby.”
“Hi. I’m sorry I’m late. It’s a long story and I can tell you all about it later. Right now I just want it to be us. Let the world fade away for a bit.”
“Sounds like a plan then. I already ordered your Coke with a lime. It should be on its way.” Gabe says as he plants a thousand soft kisses on your hand. He’s been doing it a lot lately, now that you think about it.
“You’ve been kissing my hand a lot recently. Why?” you ask out of curiosity.
“Because whenever I kiss your hand, you hold my face.”
Gabe is a daydream and you’re the one he’s walking to. You think he’s the one thing you got right.
You hear your phone ping on the table. You quickly open it to mute it for your lunch date but the text on the screen catches your eye.
Oscah: So should Lily and I meet you guys at your place or ours? 😉
Those who wanted to be tagged in part 2: @f1fantasys @jxnellat @hoeforsirius @nina-or-anna-or-nora @sturmatt @hurtblossom
#formula 1#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 writing#f1 x you#f1 imagine#f1#f1 fic#lando norris fanfic#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#lando x reader#lando imagine#lando norris#norris x reader#mclaren#formula 1 imagine#formula one#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 fic#lando norris angst
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日语 ✴︎ I CAN MELT AN IGLOO, CAUSE I’M SO DANG HOT.
in which. 𝖾𝗇𝗁𝗒𝗉𝖾𝗇 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗌𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗈𝗈𝗅.
(𝖬𝖠𝖦𝖠𝖹𝒾𝖭𝖤) 。 boyf!enha & fem!rea 8OO fluff established relationship ─── kissing skinship
じや :#divaz told me to post this first ♡ don’t forget to vote for the boys !
reblogs ୨୧ feedbacks please / help
heeseung likes to dive his eyes into yours. at any given moment or circumstances, he loves to hold eye contact with you. his gaze flicker into yours as soon as you start to talk, his entire focus on you. which makes a garden of butterflies appear in the pit of your stomach— “stop looking at me like that,” you say in the middle of your sentence and he laughs.
heeseung, as implied before, loves to watch you. and it might seem crazy, but even when you kiss— he open his eyes slightly. to see your flushed face up close like, your eyes close as you melt into his mouth like that. it is not an habit you were aware before your drunk friend told you about it.
( + )
jongseong isn’t the type to use too many words. he has this habit of calling you over with signs, as if you were a cat. most of the time, he sits down and immediately taps his lap to indicate to you to come sit there. he whispers a sweet praise in your ear, wrapping his strong arms around your waist.
jongseong knows a few tricks to make you look at him again. his favorite one is by lifting your chin with his index finger and lean in, “look at me,” he orders gently and you do as you were told. he loves to watch your cheeks get more and more red while he holds your attention this way and talks to you. the grin on his face tells you that much.
jaeyun doesn’t even seem to realize when he is doing it. it comes naturally to him, he can’t control himself— and honestly, even if could stop himself, he would rather check out his beautiful girlfriend all the time. dragging his eyes all over your figure makes him feel things, he can’t help but bite down a smirk everytime. barely aware of the effect it has on you.
jaeyun’s obsession with jeans started with you. he remembers, the first that he saw you in those and swa you turning around— his head did too. the growing need to slide his hands in your back pocket grew fast and astronomically big that time, and he can’t just not do it now. he pus his huge hand in your backpocket while you walk, when he wants to turn you around, whenever he feels like it.
sunghoon doesn’t hide the fact that he has muscles, especially not to you. a day won’t go by without him flexing ‘unknowingly’ while shooting you a quick glance. the most attractive thing about his muscular body, is that he an manhandle you whenever and wherever he wants. “bedtime,” he calls before hoping your body over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
sunghoon often leans against tall surfaces. sometimes with his arms crossed under his chest, sometimes with his forearm supporting him as he towers over you. a silly pick up lines floats away from his mouth, his proud grin being the thing that makes your heart swell at the end.
sunoo leans his head back a lot, showing off his perfect neck. what drives you into a spiral is when he groans softly— the sound coming out of his mouth as not egal and the way his adam apple pops makes your knees incredibly week. your eyes are unable to focus on anything else.
sunoo when you are standing on his path, holds your waist gently before moving you to the side. “sorry, baby,” he tells you as he does so, a cute smile drawn on his face. he is already far before you can realize what happened.
jungwon is really expressive, especially in the brows area. there isn’t anything in particular with what he does with them— it is all just the way he moves them, just something about the little raises that says he likes something, they make you crazy.
jungwon rarely ever gets mad. if you were to be honest, you never thought it was possible to see that side of him until he got angry over work. and listen, you are obviously sad to see him frustrated. but, dear god, the way his jaw tightens and his angry smile…
riki is obviously much taller than you are. he has to look down to see you, and sometimes your words don’t reach him properly. therefore, he leans in to listen to you properly, “hm?” he hums with his breath on your neck.
riki, given his height, has a better view than anyone for everything. he doesn’t need to get on his tiptoes in a crowed event to see what he wants to see— you, however… has the great boyfriend that he is, he lifts you up as soon as he sees you struggling to see anything. with his hands holding your thighs close to his waist, he asks, “is it good now, princess?”
taglist is open. & @sgz-net
#⠀𝑓 ⟡⠀命运’𝑠 ⠀#enhypen#enhypen fluff#enhypen x reader#enhypen imagines#enhypen drabbles#enhypen scenarios#enhypen reactions#enhypen soft thoughts#enhypen soft hours#enhypen fanfiction#enha fluff#enha x reader#enha imagines#enha drabbles#enha scenarios#enha reactions#enha soft thoughts#enha soft hours#enha fanfic#heeseung x reader#jay x reader#jongseong x reader#jake x reader#jaeyun x reader#sunghoon x reader#sunoo x reader#jungwon x reader#ni ki x reader#riki x reader
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જ⁀ SAY IT TO MY FACE
“It was rare for Yuji Itadori to keep things from you. He didn’t like keeping secrets, it made something tight bud in his chest and made him feel guilty every time he looked at you. He only ever kept one secret, not only from you, but from the world.”
Now playing :: Rises The Moon — Liana Flores
Yuji Itadori x F!Reader
Words — 5.7k
Contents — 4+1 fic, violence, kidnapping, distress, mentions of death/loss, I can’t write fights for shit, no actual angst this time because I feel bad for hurting people again and again oops, but maybe angst if you squint?, I don’t proofread, lmk if I missed any <3
In a mess of crushing expectations and unfamiliar fluttering in your chest, you somehow cross paths with Tokyo’s one and only Spiderman. Maybe the eerie similarity he has to your best friend isn’t a coincidence at all, nor is the odd care he has for you. OR Four times Spiderman loved you, one time Yuji did it himself.
a/n — hi sofia yes this is for you teehee @rreveurdoll . I actually love spiderman yuji so much he’s been sitting in my notes app since august he just suits it saurrrrrrrr well I can’t do this it’s so uhghhughf. Also iera agreed with me so it was my final push hai ily
There was always a certain sort of familiarity about spiderman, a tranquil warmth that reminded you of something you could never quite put your finger on. It radiated from him like aura, constantly flowing but never really explaining itself. It was apparent in the way he held you—arm under your knees and another around your shoulders, almost as if he knew you were ticklish in the sides, like he knew you better than you knew yourself. The way he talked to you like he’d done it a million times before, his eyes lingering on the curve of your lips for just a beat too long, it was just so… knowing. Every time he interacted with you, it felt like he knew something you didn’t. That was because, well, he did.
It was rare for Yuji Itadori to keep things from you. He didn’t like keeping secrets, it made something wretched bud in his chest and made him feel guilty every time he looked at you. He only ever kept one secret, not only from you, but from the world. The hundreds, maybe thousands of people that might kill him if given the chance. And if you knew, maybe they’d get to you too. He couldn’t have that. It already haunted his every waking moment and it hadn’t even happened yet. Yet. That was the thing, it could happen at any moment. If he was the cause of your demise, he couldn’t forgive himself. So he tried his best, tried to keep his lips sealed the best he could, even if he struggled sometimes.
The first time you met spiderman, he almost screwed up. Already.
You’d somehow gotten caught up in the midst of a battle, the bakery you worked at getting completely annihilated by the commotion, so being the ever brave and courageous citizen you were, you ran for your fucking life. You somehow found it in you to remain at least relatively calm… until barely dodging a chunk of concrete thrown your way. The composure seemed to fade from there. You could feel your heart jumping out of your chest, but all you could think about was that you were lucky it was still beating.
That’s when he came swinging in. Literally. It was a flash of red out of the corner of your eye at first, you barely even paid any mind to it. But then his voice rang out with a call to you, and you couldn’t look the other way anymore.
“Hey! Y- miss!”
You took a moment to glance back, your loss of breath catching up to you as you panted and heaved. His feet hitting the ground was nothing but a small thump, swallowed up by the chaos bleeding in around you. “You can’t be out in the open like this. It’s dangerous.”
You couldn’t see his face, but you could basically hear the furrow of his brows. Through your pants, you managed gasp out a reply that you fear was just a bit too sassy. “I know. That’s why I’m running.”
His face fell just the slightest bit under the mask, but beneath that layer of latex was almost a smile. He found it hard to be amused right now, because honestly, when he saw you he felt like throwing up. Even before that, when he’d looked at the destroyed shell of what was your workplace, something sick twisted in his gut. It wasn’t fear, no, more than that. After every punch at the enemy came a glance among the crowd, desperately hoping to see you in one piece. When he landed in front of you and the first thing you’d said was dry and sassy and completely you, he couldn’t help the way his nerves felt just a little less racked. He wanted to hug you, to pull you into his arms and tell you how happy he was to see you, maybe get a kiss if he was lucky– huh?
But he wasn’t Yuji, and only Yuji had that sort of privilege. He was spiderman. He was a masked vigilante that you’d never been face to face with, so he tried to keep up the act. Therefore all he did was reply with a soft “yeah” before scooping you up and carrying you to safety, because that’s what spiderman does. He would’ve done it for anyone, really! But he handled you with just a bit more care, just a bit more warmth in those blank white eyes of his suit, because you weren’t just anyone. You were you.
He left you on the side of an untouched street feeling breathless and confused. Maybe you were naive, because his voice alone should’ve told you exactly who it was from the beginning. But there was a ringing in your ears from the noise, and your knees felt wobbly as well as your lips. You could barely think straight, so who could blame you? Mentally unmasking Tokyos famous spiderman wasn’t a common task in any situation, especially yours. Assuming it was your best friend felt crazy. Instead you remained oblivious and shaken on the side of the street, and he remained determined in the fight thinking of nothing but you.
— ⋮ ᰔ
The second time you met spiderman, the circumstances still weren’t great, but this time your life wasn’t on the line. Well, at least not literally.
The nights air was cold, nipping at your tear stained cheeks and clinging to the dampness left in its wake. Your eyes stung, both from the chill and the bitterness that welled up in your waterline and spilled over, only to drip down and fade away into the fabric of your jeans. Completely insignificant, but to you, they fell heavy. They beat down on you in a mocking rhythm, every droplet a reminder of the crushing weight of your failure. It was suffocating, but truly, would the lightness be any better? Would the complete lack of fulfillment, whether that be bliss or anguish, be less unbearable than the ache in your shoulders and the squeezing in your chest? You think that if it were, you wouldn’t still be sticking around. You wouldn’t be doing this. You just would’ve liked to feel less alone in the midst of it.
Your legs dangled freely over the stairs, the rusted metal of the fire escape not doing much to cage you in. As you swung them, felt nothing but air and the awareness of the ground so distant below, you got a taste of the lightness. A taste of your freedom, of your insignificance. Maybe that was all you needed to handle the rest of the weight.
As if your longing had been personally alerted to the universe, you heard a shuffling behind you. Your head whipped around just a little too fast—making something in your neck pop and reminding you that you really need to stop hunching over your laptop—enough to make your panic rather obvious. You were about to wonder how someone even made it up here, but then you saw him. The culprit stopped in his tracks, raising his two covered hands in an (unnecessary) surrender. It wasn’t like you could defend yourself if you tried, anyway. You were sat awkwardly on a set of rusted metal stairs with about two feet of space to run. You were no match for him. Fortunately for you, Yuj- spiderman wouldn’t dare hurt you. When you continued to stare at him through your teary eyes with a question he couldn’t answer, he realized he hadn’t come up with something to say. Luckily, you beat him to it.
“…spiderman?” Your voice was confused, small and almost weak as you tried to swallow the lump in your throat. He stared at you for a moment, only then remembering who he was. Right now he was spiderman, a stranger, and he had to act accordingly. The thing was—Yuji didn’t know how to act like a stranger to you. You’d become such a constant in each others lives that treating you as if you were unfamiliar simply defied the blood in his veins, the beating of his heart. He felt it thump angrily in his chest at the mere thought, because how could he feign distance when you were the one it beat for?
He cleared his throat. “Hi.”
A million questions ran through your head, countless quips or remarks, but your throat constricted around them and forbid them from jumping out. “Why are you… here?” you asked. Your voice was uncharacteristically bland, tired. He didn’t like it.
He shrugged, head tilting to the side. He leaned against the building, an attempt to be casual, but the brick was digging into his back and every sense he had was screaming at him to leap forward and hold you, to take the mask off and be who you needed. But when he considered the thought, the images of what might follow flashed through his mind like memories yet to come. He kept the mask on.
“Well, I was out… you know… doing spiderman things. And then I saw you. Looked like you could use a friend.”
Honestly? Yuji being out here was no sort of coincidence. The moment he’d felt a familiar tingling in the back of his mind, he was landing here before he could question why. In his soul, he knew why, knew it better than anyone. If Yuji couldn’t be there for you because he was spiderman, spiderman would have to fill in.
He paused, eyes trailing over the sag in your shoulders and the darkness under your eyes. You looked different than the last time he’d seen you—had it been weeks? A pang of something glum shot through him at the realization.
“What about you?” he asked, that teasing, spiderman-esque tone fading into something softer.
“Huh?”
“What’re you doing out here?”
You swallowed thickly. You felt as if you were stuck on a tightrope, looking between a reaching hand and the ground below. Let him slip his hand into yours, hoping it pulls you up, or fall? You were willing to take that risk. “Just… been fucking up a lot lately, I guess. This is my escape.”
He paused for a second. “Was that a pun?”
He felt victorious as he took in the subtle curl of your lips. “But forreal, what do you mean screwing up?”
A soft sigh left your lips, the air pooling in what looked like smoke around your face. You liked that—you could tell yourself that was the reason for your blurry vision, not that you were crying. Your fingers were twitching, and he wished he could take them.
“Just… nothing has been going right. Got my ass kicked by finals, I feel like shit, and- and usually I’d have my best friend, but…” you felt a painful throbbing in your chest, what you were about to admit feeling sour and wrong on your tongue. “He hasn’t been answering lately, he’s been… distant. Maybe he’s getting sick of me or something, I wish I knew.”
Yuji felt a tightening in his chest that was almost painful. Him. It was him. His spider sense had called him to fix a problem that he was the cause of. Sick of you? No, he could never be sick of you, but right now he felt ill. “He’d never,” he blurted without thinking, only realizing how odd that sounded once it had already reached your ears. “I mean– I’m sure he loves you.” His eyes widened comically. He kept blabbering, and it was only making things worse. “You seem lovely. Uh-“
To his surprise, you laughed. “Okay, okay, I get the point. Thanks… I think?”
He felt the heat that was crawling up his neck lower, simmer into a comfortable nothingness. “You’re welcome.”
By some strange coincidence, Yuji showed up at your door what must’ve been a mere three hours after your masked friend swung away into the night.
He seemed out of breath—almost panting, as if he’d just run a marathon (or fought the green goblin). He stood in your doorway, pink locks of hair rubbed in all different directions, chest rising and falling erratically.
Before you could open your mouth—ask what he was doing here and what sort of physical activity he was doing in the middle of the night, maybe—he was hugging you. His firm arms slithered around your waist, tugging you towards his chest without a word. He held you just a little tighter than usual, like he’d been waiting to do it for far too long. He had been.
“I haven’t seen you in two weeks,” he murmured, breath warm against your skin.
“I know.” Your words held a sense of bitterness, but you were hugging him back with a tenderness that contrasted what you wanted to feel.
“I missed you.”
How could he say something like that? How could he disappear for weeks and then come back and make your heart clench, because you know he means it? This was Yuji. Your Yuji. He talked to stray cats on the side of the road and was always there to lend a helping hand, whether that be to a sweet old lady or a convicted felon. He wouldn’t say he missed you if he didn’t, and either way, you knew he did. Whether it felt like it or not, you knew Yuji. You knew he missed you, felt it in the way his fingers gripped at the fabric of your shirt. It was almost desperate, like he was a shell of a man in need of fulfillment. As much as you wished you hated it, you wanted to be that for him.
That’s how you ended curled in bed, Yuji’s eyes trailing over your face for just a little too long, so much so that you weren’t sure he’d paid any attention to the movie in the first place. You didn’t say anything, but Yuji kept you just a little bit closer that night.
— ⋮ ᰔ
The third time you crossed paths with spiderman, it was you who sought him out. Well, sought is a strong word, you’d prefer to say that you gravitated towards him naturally. That wasn’t completely a lie, there truly was some sort of magnetic pull to him drawing you near, but your approach was completely by choice. But that wasn’t a conversation you were ready for, many layers of psychological complexities that you weren’t prepared to peel back, so you instead focused on the blurry red feet dangling from the rooftop and how you’d get up there to join them.
After a number of laps around the building that you’d need two hands to count, you hit the jackpot. Sitting humbly within the shadows of the dark, grey alley was a ladder. It was rickety and rusted and you feared it would be the last thing you ever saw—but it was a chance. Everyone took chances, didn’t they? Everything was a chance, in its own way. Love, hate, that answer scribbled into the last page of your exam that you’re not quite sure about. Spiderman took a chance every time he rounded a new building with those webs of his, took an even greater one with every fight and interaction with the public. He took a chance when he came to see you on that sullen night, and you still didn’t know why, but you knew you’d make it your mission to at least somewhat return the favour.
The metal was piercingly cold as your fingers wrapped around it, eliciting a wince from you, but only prompting you to hold on tighter. The sound of your boots clanking against the steps, the small grunt that left your lips as you threw yourself onto the roof—so many sounds barely heard beneath the never ending roar of the city. You heard sirens in the distance, and you wondered why spiderman was sitting in front of you instead of trailing near them.
His eyes met yours (sort of), and Yuji felt something warm flow through his veins. He felt his heart beat just a little quicker, thumping in time with your approaching footsteps. Suddenly the sirens didn’t seem so loud, the curse of his heightened senses not feeling so overwhelming as your face came into the light cast from below.
“Hey, y/n.” He spoke gently, like the words were something delicate, and they’d shatter if said too harshly.
He watched the way your eyes widened just slightly, brows twitching upwards in mild surprise. “You know my name?”
With a slightly wonky smile that you couldn’t see, he nodded. “Small world.”
“Isn’t it?”
Your words were meant to be a light response, but they only made the weight in his chest feel all the more dense. He turned back ahead, the cartoonish white eyes of his mask reflecting an infinite, erratic pattern of streetlights. His shoulders hung a little lower than usual, something you didn’t fail to catch. You sat beside him, legs hanging over the side of the building. The structure was sturdy and solid beneath your thighs, far more than both the barely-there balance of the ladder and his trembling breaths.
“It’s not, though,” he said softly, so quiet that it was almost whisked away by the winds of the evening. “The world is big. Too big.”
You tilted your head, hands pressing into the concrete to support your weight, but itching to reach out to him. You couldn’t give a reason why if asked, nothing other than the unspoken tranquility between you, like you knew much more than you spoke aloud. “What do you mean?” you asked.
“It’s too big. There’s too many people, so many that I can’t… I can’t save everyone. There’s always casualty in the wake of disaster, because the amount of people barely goes down each time. But- but they’re all people, they all deserve to be saved, but… they can’t.”
His words hung in the air, and invisible force between you that pushed down on his shoulders and deepened the furrow in his brows.
“You’re right,” you said. His head turned more quickly than it should’ve—he wasn’t expecting that response from you. Maybe you’d have given Yuji a different answer than you would spiderman. “Not everybody can be saved, but you still save people. A lot of them. Imagine if you never showed up, how many more people would die? A lot. Maybe you can’t save everyone, but you still save people, and that is what makes you good.”
It was as if your words were a sirens song, soothing him to silence and easing his thumping heart. For the first time ever, Yuji wasn’t exactly sure what to say. “Yeah,” he breathed after a moment, voice choked. “Yeah, you’re right.”
He looked up at you for a beat longer, taking in the way the ridges of your face were cast over by shadows, the way your hair fluttered and danced with every gust of wind. “Thank you.” He cleared his throat. “That friend you mentioned before… he’s lucky to have you.”
You shook your head gently. “If you met him, you’d think otherwise,” you said, oblivious to the fact that though spiderman hadn’t technically met Yuji Itadori, he knew him very well. “He’s great. Much better than me.” The corners of your lips quirked up fondly, something he could only describe as love being the force that pushed your smile wider. “He’s great,” you said, more breathily this time.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
The next hour or so was spent sharing mindless conversation, reminiscing over teenagehood in a way that made spiderman feel so close, but so far. He couldn’t rid himself of that odd feeling beneath his ribcage, the one that felt like his heart was trying to escape, wailing your name and clawing at him from the inside out. Luckily, the spider-suit did enough to keep it contained.
— ⋮ ᰔ
The atmosphere was tumultuous, the sound of the concrete around them crumbling accompanied by an occasional hiss of web shooting from Yuji’s suit. He moved with a choppy sort of grace, bouncing across alleys and buildings alike.
“I’m sure you could do better than that,” he teased, faux cockiness thick in his tone. A tense, tightly strung determination bled through his tone, too intense to be concealed by thickly coated boyish charm. He lingered on the wall of one building just for the sake of mocking his foe, head tilted to the side almost as if he was genuinely interested.
He quickly flung himself away, just barely missing the swinging, mechanical arm aimed at him.
“Ah ah, keep up!” he quipped, though his voice rose with a small yelp as he finished his sentence. It was clear his opponent only got further angered with every tease, wails of rage growing louder with every swing. Spiderman smiled bashfully, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Hah… guess I shouldn’t get too cocky…”
His opponent was some big guy, clad in countless layers of precocious technology that reflected the suns light like a mirror. What he assumed was his chest beneath all that metal was heaving, pants leaving his mouth. Suppose tech can’t compete with physical stamina, at least not in this scenario.
“You’ll regret this, spiderman!” he roared, voice scratchy, like he hadn’t used it in ages. “Surrender now, or I’ll have to do something I don’t want to. Don’t– don’t make it difficult.” His words got darker with every proceeding syllable, almost enough to make Yuji nervous. He was used to these threats, and they were empty more often than not.
“Yeahhh…” he drawled, unconvinced. But there was something in him that twisted his gut—not his spider-sense, but something… different. Something in his heart told him to worry.
Shaking his head, he made another advance in the direction of the enemy. He hadn’t bothered to remember his name, he’d never been a problem until now.
Swerving his hit, the big man continued. “I’ve been studying you, spiderman-“ he cut himself off with a groan, his incessant speech resulting in an impact meeting his side.
He grinned, malicious and knowing. As if he knew this was a game of cat and mouse, and he had him trapped like a rat. Something about it made Yuji hesitate, made that unfamiliar feeling in his heart throb. Yuji opened his mouth to retort, to at least attempt some sort of return that suited his sarcastic, spiderman fashion, but he was cut off.
“Or rather, I’ve been studying Yuji Itadori.”
He felt himself go immobile, felt his body freeze like an icicle in the midst of winter. His blood felt equally as cold, as if one move would make him shatter. People studied spiderman all of the time. There were news articles and personal reports and attempts at interviews—everyone knew everything about spiderman, except for his identity. At least, they did.
In that split second, Yuji had a terrible epiphany. With Yuji Itadori came Y/n L/n, always. A plethora of your shared moments flashed through his mind. Walking you to class, late night trips to the convenience store, all of the places around you that there’d been someone lurking. Someone just waiting for the right moment, gauging his behaviour and every aspect of his life, no doubt including the way he looked at you. Yuji might’ve seemed dense, but he was perfectly aware of how clear his love for you was. He loved everything, he loved the way the sun casted over the city and the way people lit up when he smiled at them on the street. He loved you most.
The figure looming over him smiled sickly, Yuji’s reaction telling him all he needed to know. As he began circling Yuji like a predator ready to pounce, he couldn’t stop him. All he could do was feel the pounding of his heart in his chest and wondering if yours was still able to do the same.
“So I was thinking…” the man began, trailing off for the sake of suspense no doubt. “What’s a better power to have over someone than love?”
The sinister words swirled in his ears like an echo. His mouth felt dry, the rest of the world fading to TV static as he tried to glance around for any sign of you, but his gaze was far too frantic to make out the shape of the person in front of him let alone you.
With a devilish snigger, you were revealed. Simply based off of the widened state of your eyes and the way you writhed in the rope you were restricted by, it was fairly clear this was news to you. Had your mouth not been taped, he was sure you’d have plenty to say. As his eyes locked with yours, the world slowed to a halt around you. Your gazes spoke louder than any words, louder than any scream into the dead of night. It spoke of love and fear all the same.
“Stop,” was all he could croak out. “Stop!” he shouted, louder this time as his gaze turned.
“Mm.. so I was correct, then?” said the near cyborg beast beside you.
Yuji’s gaze flickered to you, just for a split second. He contemplated lying, but he just… couldn’t. The words felt bitter and out of place on his tongue, even before they were spoken. So he chose bravery, in every sense of the word, and kept with his offence.
“Maybe, that’s none of your business,” he grunted, words emphasized with a hit to the man’s gnarly face. Yuji had a new sense of determination, the animalistic instinct to protect you. He’d already lost so many, lost his parents and his brother and the sense of humanity he grasped on to like the thread he hung by. He wouldn’t lose you.
All you could do was watch. You could only sit there like the helpless bystander you loathed to be, staring in horror as who might’ve been the love of your life was pummelled into the ground. It was like a twisted pattern of pain and the red of his blood darkening his suit. With every hit he landed he received tenfold, but somehow he always got back up. That was Yuji for you.
As the fight continued, you couldn’t help but begin to notice the obvious similarities between the vigilante and your own best friend. You felt utterly idiotic. Why else would he care so much, who else would you have shared those conversations with? Why else would Yuji look at you just a little different every time you met with spiderman? It all made sense. All of the “I’m sure your best friend is lucky to have you”’s and the explanations to Yuji’s actions that seemed just a bit too personal. Now you knew why, and you couldn’t even respond to the information, imprisoned by the tape over your mouth and the weight of your obliviousness as the sound of fist against face rang through the streets.
A weak, muffled cry fell from your lips as he was knocked to the ground.
Everything was going in slow motion. The robotic arm raised, hovering over Yuji like a sledgehammer just waiting to pound down. But then there was a metallic whine, and a halt. Panic washed over the man’s face as he froze—well, the metal parts of him froze, and those were the only parts that amounted to much.
He sputter and panicked, watching as the countless officers surrounding the area became aware of his suspended movement. It was over, just like that? He seemed just as surprised as you were, and as your eyes met, you were shocked to feel anything in common with him.
When you were freed of the twine that had been keeping you in place, you wasted no time in rushing to Yuji. The red and blue of the lights surrounding you blanketed him, making him appear as nothing but a puddle in the street. He looked completely melted—limp, and for a moment you thought he might not live to hear what you had to say.
You pulled his mask up over his face, disregarding the people around you and their wandering eyes. His face was battered and bruised, but undeniably still his, still alive. You felt your shoulders deflate as his throat bobbed, the small, otherwise unimportant motion doing numbers to ease your nerves. He was still here. You could still learn to love spiderman as you did Yuji, you’d still get the chance to feel their hearts beat as one.
His eyes fluttered open, vision bleary from the flashing lights and his lack of consciousness. “Y/n?” he muttered, voice nearly inaudible. It was the first thought in his mind when he woke, even before the fuzzy outline of your face came into view. His eyes flickered brighter when they saw you. He knew that face anywhere. “Y/n,” he breathed, softer this time.
“Yuji-“
“I’m sorry for not telling you,” he mumbled quickly. His hands reached for yours, the shaky, bruised skin wrapping itself in yours. It stung, but the feeling of your fingers intertwined with his was enough to soothe the ache. He was convinced that if you were to kiss every injured part of him, his bones would straighten themselves out for the sole purpose of holding you, because broken arms can not cradle. Snapped fingers cannot run through your hair, so if he were broken, he would repair himself as long as it meant loving you. No amount of bloodshed would keep him away, he would return to you in the winds if he had to.
You chuckled lightly despite the distress of the moment. “For not telling me what? That you’re spiderman or that you’re in love with me?”
He grinned tiredly, canines peeking out brightly, white against the pink of his lips. “Both.”
— ⋮ ᰔ
The sound of knuckles against your window was dull and hollow, but not unexpected. It did little to startle you, barely bothering to look up from your textbook as you hunched over your desk.
“It’s open!” you called over your shoulder, followed by the creak of the glass sliding open. The sound of Yuji’s feet meeting the ground pulled you from your school immersed daze, office chair swivelling around to face him.
“You know, leaving your window open at night is dangerous,” he said, half joking. His mask was already pulled from his face, messy pink hair matted and messy on his head. He was making quick work to pull off the rest of his suit as he spoke, hopping around on one foot as he tried to pry it from his skin.
You responded with an underlaugh, “I’m on the fourth floor. Nobody except spiderman is sliding open my window at eleven at night on a Tuesday.”
“Well-“ he cut himself off by knocking into your bedframe. He glanced back to you, cheeks warming in the slightest as he tried to balance himself and remain authoritative. “Well, they might!” he exclaimed. His eyes narrowed, but you didn’t find any sense of irritation in them. Within his shining brown irises was concern, the lingering anxiety that came with the events not long before. Yuji had been on edge ever since, constantly glancing around corners and panicking when you were out of sight for even a moment. In the corners of his vision lingered the sight of you helpless, burned into his mind like a tattoo he never wanted.
He tossed the red article somewhere on your floor, disregarding it entirely. He stood above you, arms crossed and trying to look annoyed, but resulting in a different, much cuter pout. He was many things that he wouldn’t admit. Tired—very much so—from spending his day trying restlessly to save lives, scared, and craving the tenderness in your touch that he never received with the mask over his face. When you locked gazes, holding it felt particularly hard for him tonight, because he knew you could see right through him. He felt bare, and not just because you were looking at his real face.
You sighed softly, standing up from the chair. You guess your studying could wait another night, because you knew Yuji couldn’t. Your chest throbbed with the thought of the danger he came face to face with constantly, the responsibility he carried on his back through every waking moment. The weight was heavy, and it was exhausting.
Placing a chaste, fleeting kiss on his cheek, you tugged him over to the bed. His hand was soft in yours, a contrast to the callouses and scrapes adorning the skin there.
“Come lie down,” you mumbled.
He glanced between you and the desk you previously occupied, brows knitting together. “Weren’t you busy?”
“I’m not anymore. Just come rest with me, please.” You shook your head, earnestly reflecting in your eyes.
He hesitated, opening his mouth to speak. “You don’t have to…” he began, but he stopped himself. He really, really did want to rest. He wanted to listen to your heart beat against your chest and have your breath fan over his skin, he wanted to curl into your embrace and be reminded that in this cruel world was a place of love. He knew that deep down, his heart resided with you, and he never felt it truly thump until he was in your arms. “…okay.”
So he crawled into bed with you, tired and almost clingy in his actions. His body slotted against yours like the missing piece of a puzzle, his arms slithering around your waist and face nuzzling into the crook of your neck like it was always meant to be there. He let his ear press against your shirt and hear the life beneath your skin, letting out a breath and physically melting into your arms. He looked so much more gentle like this. He wasn’t the sarcastic or silly figure the world knew spiderman to be, he was just a boy that wanted to help. He was just a kid like you who needed to know that there were things left to cherish.
Some would say you had two lovers. One a courageous figure in the night, the other a warm hearted, pink haired student barely making it into college. But you knew that spiderman was nothing but the parts of Yuji that had always lived within, and the bits that defined him most.
That night you traced every line and freckle on his face, committing it to memory because now there was no suit between you. You admired him as he slept, relishing in the tranquility of it all. It was just you and Yuji, flesh and love and transparency all in one.
From then onwards, Yuji fought his battles with just a bit more hope, because he knew you’d be waiting for him by the window when he won.
I MISSED writing for Yuji ugghhhhhhhhhh. If I wrote a part 2 of a strangers heart would yall fw that or nah (wouldn’t be for a while tho). I cannot write action at all im so sorry 😭 also cba to give big scary villain a name so it got repetitive
Jjk/gen taglist — @sh0ot1ngst4r @anotherwriternamedclara @ruruisru @lizbix @bubybubsters @azinniyaa @kashee-h @fiannee
— I did not tag those who could not be tagged. If you were on the general taglist and don’t see yourself, it’s because your tag settings stopped me from doing so.
#jjk#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen#itadori yuji#yuji itadori x reader#yuuji itadori x reader#itadori yuji x reader#yuji itadori#jjk yuji#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu yuji#yuji x you#yuji x reader#yuuji itadori x you#itadori yuuji#itadori x reader
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we don't talk about it
Spencer Reid x fem victim!reader
cw: fluff, angst, attempted murder, drug use, drug addiction, hospitals, badly written withdrawal, bad parenting mention, gambling mention, set around season 4, that's it I think wc: 2.6k a/n: this is the first part of a fairly short series I have planned for the next while, hope you enjoy!
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
You registered the blood before you felt the pain. The beat of the music pumped the blood through your veins, sweat hanging in the air alongside the cloying scent of perfume.
You popped a pill into your mouth, unsure what it was or where it had come from, stumbling over to the bar for a shot of vodka to wash it down. You’d just made it to the bar when a man shoved past you, hitting you roughly in the torso. You could tell something was off by the way that the pressure lingered after he had walked away. Your hand reached for the feeling, trying to figure out what was causing it, and found an odd, slightly sticky liquid soaking your dress.
You cringed, pulling your hand back to look at it, expecting to see nothing, the clear remnants of a sugary cocktail spilt on your dress. Instead, you were faced with a darkness painting your palms, and even then it took you a moment to realise what it was, the coloured lights altering its appearance. When you did recognise it, the pain still lagged, and you wondered if the plethora of drugs in your system were acting as an anaesthetic.
You stumbled outside, growing lightheaded from the blood loss, holding your hand over the wound to stifle the seemingly endless stream of blood that flowed between your fingers. You flipped open your phone, about to call 911, when, finally, the pain hit. Something between the blood loss, the drugs, and the excruciating pain you were in sent your head spinning towards the ground, and the last thing you remembered before you passed out was the thought that you were never going to wake up.
.*☆¸•
You did, however, and when you regained consciousness, you were lying down in a hospital bed, the sharp, sanitised smell instantly recognisable. You had spent enough early mornings recovering from exceptionally dangerous highs to know your way around most of the hospitals in the Upper East Side with your eyes closed. Which, at the time, they were. When you did open them, you regretted it immediately, squinting against the blinding whiteness of the room in an attempt to see your surroundings. There was someone sitting next to your bed, a blurry figure that you were sure you had never seen before. You blinked repeatedly until your vision cleared slightly, and you were faced with a greasy mop of hair, underneath which might have been a man.
“You’re awake.” He sounded too relieved to be a stranger, and you momentarily questioned if you were suffering from amnesia. Then you saw the badge attached to his belt, which made a lot more sense as a reason to be invested in your wellbeing.
“What happened?” You rubbed at your eyes with a shaking hand, trying to ward off the headache that was already forming in the harsh light. You were surprised by how fine you felt, given the fact that your most recent memory was of being covered in blood.
“Well, you were stabbed two days ago by a serial killer. You’re lucky, he’d been shooting his victims until now. He needed to be closer to his victims, and he made a mistake.” The man leaned towards you, his features growing clearer with proximity.
“Oh. Who are you?” You weren't quite prepared to process just how close to death you had really been just yet. Changing the topic seemed to be the only way to postpone the impending interview that would force you to face it.
“Doctor Spencer Reid, I’m with the FBI.” The way his voice went up as he spoke was a little bit annoying, and wasn’t doing anything to help the steady throbbing in your skull. Scratch your original plan of postponing the serious talk, you wanted to get everything over and done with as fast as possible so that you could get some rest.
“Well, I didn’t really notice at first, he knocked into me. I didn’t feel any pain ‘cause, fuck-” You groaned, a painful shiver running down your spine.
“Yes, they found GHB, cocaine, methamphetamines, and alcohol in your system. That pain you're feeling right now is withdrawal, something I’m guessing you haven’t felt before.” Despite his words, his voice carried none of the sympathy or disgust you would have suspected from someone like him. It didn’t feel like a judgement, but an acknowledgement of how hard it was: it was understanding.
“That… that makes sense.” Your thoughts were foggy, stopping just before they were fully formed, leaving incomplete puzzles with a single piece missing, words without any vowels. Enough that everything you said or felt was left wanting.
“Since you’re the only person so far to survive him, you’re the best witness we have. You’re also the most at risk.” He paused, and you took the chance to butt in, asking the question that seemed the most pertinent before you could forget it.
“What do you mean, ‘at risk’?” You grumbled, the roughness of your voice doing its best to cover up the genuine curiosity in your tone. This was a negotiation, no matter what he said, and you knew negotiations. If your father had taught you one good thing, it was that you never showed anyone your hand. Technically, at the time that hadn’t been metaphorical, he had been teaching you how to play poker at the ripe age of six.
“There’s a fairly significant chance that he’ll come back, try and finish the job. If he finds out you’re still alive, that is.” He said it like it wasn’t anything at all, like it wasn’t the most terrifying thing you had ever been told, just common sense. To him, you supposed it was.
“He’s going to try and kill me again?” There went keeping your cards to your chest. Whose voice was going up now, huh? To be fair, he hadn’t just been told that he was the target of a serial killer who had just landed him in the hospital by stabbing him.
“If you’re willing to do exactly what I say, then no.” His tone had gained a seriousness that it had been lacking before, and maybe that was what had been annoying you, because it was suddenly mostly bearable.
“And so, your plan is for us to…” You trailed off, painfully aware of your loss of footing in the conversation. Again, only one of you was coming down from a high while also healing from a stab wound, and you felt that it was deeply unfair of him to use your circumstances to his advantage.
“You and I would stay in an FBI safe house, working on the case and reporting any breakthroughs back to my team until they find and arrest him.”
“Safe house?” You baulked, “Like, stuck inside with you all of the time, no going out, no fun? That kind of safe house?” The thought of it sent a shiver of anxiety and apprehension through you. For one, you didn’t know this man, and you would be locked in a small space with him for who knew how long, you could only imagine all of the gross habits he had. He probably didn’t wash his hands after going to the toilet.
To be completely fair, you had snorted coke off of a public toilet roll holder before, so you couldn’t really judge him when it came to hygiene. That brought you to your second problem with the propositioned arrangement: any time spent in the safe house was time where you would be fully, stone-cold, sober. It wasn’t a feeling you were particularly accustomed with, nor was it one you wanted to be.
“If by ‘fun,’ you mean what I think you mean, then yes. Personally, I’m sure that we, if you agree to help, will have plenty of fun while we’re there. More importantly, I’m sure we will solve the case.” He spoke like he was trying to sell you something, like you really had a choice at all in the matter. Death or time in a house with some guy. The answer was pretty straight forward.
“Okay, fine, I’ll be your witness.” You conceded, hoping that your agreement would be enough to make him go away for a while. If you were going to spend the next however long with him, you would like to take the short span of time you had as a free woman and keep it to yourself.
He did, standing up and silently leaving the room, as well as you to your own thoughts. You hoped that they would report you as dead on the news, that they wouldn’t tell your parents what was going on. A little bit because you wanted to scare them, make them care about you for a moment. Mostly because it sounded fucking hilarious.
.*☆¸•
You didn’t have to wait long for your answer, depending on what we’re going to consider a long period of time. It was only a few days that you spent in the hospital, but they were painful, and to be completely honest, fucking terrifying. It was like a four day fever, but with added muscle spasms, constant paranoia, and anxiety unlike anything you’d ever felt before. No matter how stretched out those days felt, the moment the time came to leave, it felt as though you’d only been given a few minutes to prepare yourself mentally. Spencer walked into your room on the third day, bringing with him two other people, one was a man you had never seen before, while the other was a woman you’d seen outside your room on your first day at the hospital. Well, technically, your third. Spencer introduced you, although you were sure they both already knew your name, and probably all of your darkest secrets. Then he turned back to you, gesturing to the duo as he introduced them.
“This is Aaron Hotchner and Jennifer Jareau. They’ll be our point of contact while we work on your case.” Aaron nodded simply, and Jennifer offered a wave alongside a short greeting.
“Hi.” You waved back weakly, your arm aching with the movement. Jennifer gave you a kind, if not slightly pitying, smile as you dropped your arm with a wince. She seemed nice, but you were glad that it wasn’t her you were sharing the safe house with.
“Call me JJ, I’m the media liaison with the BAU, so I’ll be in charge of keeping the media from endangering you by reporting your survival.” She took a few steps forward, standing directly in front of you, and you could tell she was expecting you to ask questions. Luckily for her, you actually had one.
“What will my parents get told?” You tried not to sound too anxious for an answer, knowing that she would assume you wanted them told the truth of your circumstances.
“Due to the fact that you're not a minor, we have no legal reason to tell them. So unless there are any extenuating circumstances we’re unaware of, they will be told that you are dead. I know that might be hard for-” You cut her off before she could continue to believe that either party cared about the situation.
“Good, I don’t want them to know.” You spoke bluntly, a clear statement, leaving no room for questions or misunderstandings. JJ stepped back, taking your words as her sign to leave.
The man didn’t speak, simply standing beside Spencer as the number of people in the room dropped from four to three. There was silence for a while, none of you willing to speak and break it. Eventually, Spencer must have decided it had been long enough, clearing his throat in that pointed way people think is subtle, and glanced over at the man – Agent Hotchner, you reminded yourself.
“We’ll check in on you via phone calls regularly, so that you can update us on the case and tell us what you need delivered to the safe house.” Spencer had already told you that, but you didn’t say anything, just nodding and thanking him, “Please write down a list of things you want to be moved to the safe house from your apartment.” He handed you a notepad, along with a pencil, and you wrote down all of the basics you could think of, as well as a few less necessary items—well, that depends on the definition of ‘necessary’ we’re using, you value your sanity—including makeup, your violin, books, and a few other hobbies. You gave him the notepad back, before grabbing it again, scribbling down to include your iPod and your headphones. He looked over it, nodded, and walked out of the room without another word. You liked him.
When it was just Spencer and you left in the room, he came and sat on the edge of the bed, smiling at you softly.
“How are you? You look a bit better than you have for the past few days.” He was being ridiculously nice and understanding, just like he had been since you’d woken up in the hospital. It made you feel even more guilty for yelling at him the day before when he had come into your room and asked how you were doing. You’d thought it was pretty obvious that the answer was ‘not good’ and made sure to tell him just that, in probably the meanest way possible.
“Yeah, I feel better.” You gave him your weak attempt at a grin, accompanied by a small wince because your whole body ached, that muscle deep ache that sinks its claws into your soul just to ruin your day.
“Good.” He smiled, tight-lipped and stilted, the kind that never appeared on a red carpet or magazine cover, but now that you’d seen it, you decided it definitely needed to.
“When are we going to the safe house?” You kept your eyes on him, waiting for an answer as you pushed yourself up in the bed, sitting with a soft grunt.
“It should be fully set up by now.” He tapped his fingers against the paper thin sheets as he spoke, the constant movement slightly distracting. “Hopefully we’ll be able to go tomorrow after your personal items are moved in.”
“Perfect, this hospital is so not hot.”
“They do have a very good air conditioning system.” You tried—and miserably failed—to hold back a very ungraceful laugh at his words, deciding quite quickly that this was going to be an entertaining few weeks, if nothing else.
“That’s not what I meant.” You winced at the soft pain that reverberated through you alongside your laughter.
“Oh, um, what did you mean?” He was completely oblivious, and seemed rather embarrassed about the fact, you couldn’t help but attempt to comfort him.
“It means, like, something is bad. ‘Hot’ means it’s cool.” You figured any mentions of Paris Hilton would only further confuse him, given how pop culture blind he clearly was.
“Um, okay.” He gave you that awkward smile, waving as he stumbled towards the exit of the room. He looked like he was fairly used to not being in the know, and like that was something he was judged for fairly frequently. You felt a little bad, but more than anything you wanted to be alone, the headache from the previous days creeping back in. So you settled for just being as nice to him as you could, and letting him leave.
“See you tomorrow?” You smiled softly at the sweet face he made, halting on his way out the door to speak again, tucking a loose strand of hair behind his ear.
“See you.”
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
tysm for reading!!
Tags: @reidmoony-toast - Comment to be added <3
#criminal minds#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#dr spencer reid#criminal minds x reader#spencer reid criminal minds#criminal minds fanfiction#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal minds fluff#criminal minds angst#criminal minds fic#spencer reid fanfic#doctor spencer reid#spencer reid angst#spencer reid series#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fic#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n
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Annoying edge case for lycanthropy: a dragon who is also a werewolf.
(A short story I wrote back in 2022 for twitter. I've slightly re-edited it, but it's still "twittery" in how it uses linebreaks (because there used to be post-boundaries there). Sorry! )
So on the full moon, they uncontrollably turn into… A much smaller and squishier humanoid. They can't wait to get their scales and fire breath and wingspan back. They're so vulnerable in their werewolf form!
No one at the werewolf support meetings is sympathetic.
They're all humans or nearly, so one of them is like "it's just so scary. I'm huge, and inhuman, and I feel like I'm made of weapons, with my claws. Everyone fears me, and I fear myself sometimes, never knowing what I might do, if I lose control and just let the rage out…" And the werewolf-dragon is like "and then you turn into a werewolf! It's so annoying, I agree"
Everyone else just turns to look at them, slowly
They do take some tips about werewolf safety. They just do it backwards, because instead of making sure they can't get out and cause death and destruction, it's more about making sure no one can get in and attack them in their merely nigh-invulnerable werewolf form. When you're a dragon, turning into a nearly unkillable rage monster of claws and fangs is a major downgrade. It's a real moment of weakness, and who knows if your ancient enemies or some upstart knight is going to try to take advantage of that moment of weakness?
They get infinitely more annoyed when they finally find a witch who can do the right ceremony and lift the curse of lycanthropy. "there… With the burning of this silver candle, you are finally free. You're human in all moonphases, now." "WAIT A FUCKING SECOND, HUMAN?!"
They got turned into the humanized version of their werewolf form. Permanently.
Always read the fine print before asking a witch to do a complicated magical ritual on you.
"also, question: how the hell did you burn a silver candle? Isn't the melting point of silver…" "one thousand eight hundred degrees, yes. It wasn't easy. Look. "
She pulls back a curtain and points. There's a complicated bellows system being vigorously pumped by a bunch of little black cats, each wearing a tiny witch's hat. They're sweating with exertion and the heat.
"we're done, my lovelies. You can stop now" The kitties hop down off the bellows and lie down at her feet, or wander off looking for food. The witch looks down at the former dragon, now barely 5 feet tall. "why do you think I asked for my fee in cat food?"
"but it was ALL cat food. Don't you need to-" The former dragon pauses mid-sentence, as the witch pulls off her traditional witchy headwear to reveal two pointy feline ears. "you were saying?"
"nevermind. Thanks, I guess." The dragon walks to the door, then turns around. "hey, I need to find out how to be a human, would you happen to know anything or anyone I can ask?" The witch looks up from sitting on the floor with a leg behind her head, licking the inside of her thigh "wouldn't have a clue, sorry love", she says with a smile.
The witch has to show up later and bail the former dragon out of jail. Apparently they accosted a city guard after being told "you can't just wander around the city naked". The dragon told them to contact the catwitch because it's not like they know any other humanoids.
The guard wasn't physically hurt, but getting jumped by a small naked human after merely pointing out you need to wear trousers or a dress or something in public is the kind of thing that leaves mental scars that'll take a while to fade.
Even if your tiny nude opponent was mainly trying to scratch or bite you with claws or fangs they no longer have
The former dragon ends up living with the catwitch. She could use some help with the bellows, and even if the dragon can no longer provide her own fire, they still know a lot about it.
And even if they're now a short little weakling who has to be reminded to wear clothes, they are a bit better at pumping the bellows than a pack of kittens.
Plus they can help with making potions and such in ways the cats can't, what with having thumbs.
They live together for a while, until the grumpy now-human finds out that another dragon has taken up residence in their former hoard.
And that will just not do!
So the dragon convinces the catwitch to come with them on an adventure to raid their own hoard and defeat (or at least evict) the dragon.
So they set out, the former dragon having to figure out the weaknesses in their own defenses and how to navigate a space built for dragons, not tiny humanoids. They're wearing the minimum in clothing they can get away with, and wielding a sword almost bigger than they are.
And following, the catwitch with a broom and a big sack of magical devices and reagents, and a little procession of kittens in their hats.
(the former dragon uses they/them pronouns. Their human body does have a sex, but when gender was explained to them they called it a "foolish human thing" and never bothered with it, just like their opinions on silverware and public indecency laws)
As far as anyone can tell, dragons have only one gender, and it's dragon.
Anyone who has asked further questions about dragon gender, sex, or reproduction has ended up crispy and good with ketchup.
They manage to evict the squatting dragon, and the witch is like "well, I guess you got nearly everything you want now. I'll take my cats back to the city…" And the ex-dragon is like "WAIT… I was thinking, maybe you could… Use my hoard as a new shop? There's plenty of room"
"are you asking me to stay?" "n-no… I mean, yes? Shut up. It's just because it would be a good place for you. After all, your shop has that leaky roof, and you were running out of storage space, and the mayor always wanted you kicked out…"
"oh I see, so it's just for me? How kind. You don't care either way, right?" "right! I don't care! I don't need or want you around! I don't care about silly human things" "human?" she asks with a smile, wiggling her ears on the top of her head. "shut up you know what I mean"
"so you don't want me to stay around you? You don't have a reason why you want to be near me, to be with me?" she says "with" with a certain slant on it, as she rests her arm on the shoulder of the former dragon, having to lean over her to reach. "n-n-n…"
The witch switches to cupping the former dragon's face in her palms. "and your face is so warm, little one. Are you trying to breathe fire? You're turning red, so maybe you are…"
"stop it! I… I just…" "yes?" the witch lets go, but her tail curls around the waist of the former dragon, like they are walking hand in hand down a beach.
"I like you, alright? I want you to stay. I want to be with you! Is that so wrong?"
"nope!" says the witch, happily pulling them into a kiss.
We zoom out, past a pile of gold coins and goblets and scepters, as little black kittens in adorable hats play in the hoard, ambushing each other in play-fights from the high ground of a treasure chest.
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SLEEP PARALYSIS IS YOUR BEST FRIEND+ LONG STORYTIME OF HOW I SHIFTED WITH IT ✨
Okay here me out as someone who has been "traumatised" during sleep paralysis ( I felt a hand go up my legs and I was wearing a night dress mind you) it's not actually as scary as you might think.
Because Sleep paralysis is when a person transitions between sleep stages, particularly from REM (rapid eye movement) sleep, during which the body is naturally paralyzed to prevent acting out dreams, into wakefulness.
It is harmless and I'm sorry to say this but those "shadows" that you see are actually a projection of your subconscious mind. What is it that's actually scaring you?
Is something that you should seek to discover or else you might be stuck and keep on waking up every time you feel an intense symptom or feeling. Journal it or whatever method you use and tell yourself that it's all in your head and that you are more powerful than that and most importantly you are safe.
Storytime
Okay so I was planning on doing an awake method and I decided to lay on my back since I sleep when I'm in a comfortable position. Anyway I got my subliminal and started counting. I counted till 100 then I started affirming I felt the usual symptoms; twitching, feeling really hot etc but then nothing was happening and was starting to get impatient. I told myself lemme just count the last time till 50 then I'll just go to sleep because I was also starting to get sleepy. I started counting then when I reached 15 I felt a pressure on my chest like something was pushing me down like aggressively but I told myself that I'm not going to get scared cause I thought I was shifting so I continued counting. I reached around 35 when my eyes opened on its own , I was so excited but when I looked around I was still in my room and I almost crashed out because I was so done atp 😭✋🏽. I tried to move but I couldn't and I could still hear the subliminal that's when I knew that I had sleep paralysis. Since I've never seen any "demons/shadows" I wasn't scared and I thought lemme try shifting to my Dr but I didn't specify which one and it still pisses me off to this day!!!
Anyway I started affirming that, " I'm in my Dr" over n over when suddenly my legs started floating and my eyes like shut themselves and I couldn't open them I started being scared because wth 😭. Anyway I just kept affirming and then I saw flashlights, it was like there were cameras flashing around my eyes . When suddenly everything stopped and my eyes opened by itself.
I noticed that I was in an all white room with white sheets and there was a woman next to me. I sat up because I was confused on which reality I was in and I looked at the woman and saw that it was Aurora ( the singer, I luv her sm😭) she was seated on the bed and was reading a book , she glanced at me and I immediately asked her which building are we in and she looked at me like I was fucking crazy and started saying that my jokes are turning to be pathetic, like huh?!?😭 Y'all I was so offended I had even forgotten that I had shifted for a second. I just decided not to argue with her and I looked outside the window on my left and it looked like the medieval times? I'm not sure and the buildings were like the old times designed . I looked down at myself and I saw that I was white ( I'm mixed) and that's when I was like, "Did I shift to a reality where I'm a white person?"( Oh and I was wearing a grandma nightdress 😭it was cute tho it was in baby pink) Immediately I stood up wanting to like know where the hell I was but then I couldn't move my legs like I couldn't lift them so I was just awkwardly standing there trying to lift them and Aurora sighed saying " How do you expect to walk after the night you just had?"
WHEN I TELL YOU MY JAW WAS ON THE FUCKING FLOOR I LITERALLY SCREAMED AT HER"WHAT?! " and she told me to shut up 😭. Anyway she said that 'he' told her to come up to check on me because I wasn't waking up!!! I was shocked and I just kept thinking " Did I just get fucked a few hours before I shifted here? What if I had shifted in the middle of it?!" My mind was so chaotic and I couldn't even think of anyone that could have been 'him'
Anyway Aurora came and pushed back on the bed telling me that I have to rest because I haven't really slept much but then I started feeling like my body was being pulled down and I knew that I was shifting back and started pleading to Aurora to help me up because I was not sleepy but she insisted and told me to sleep and that she'll be right back and then I woke up here.
I was in shock for like 5 minutes and I couldn't even leave the bed, I was feeling a little disoriented and nauseous, I also noticed that my body had moved positions to me laying on my side.
Hope this motivates you n that you don't need any genetics to shift that's a load of bullshit🚮, your cat can even shift if it could who knows . And this was to also show you that sleep paralysis isn't scary or bad and can actually be useful. I'm still not sure if you can manifest through it but I'll try next time and see✨.
This is what I Saw one woman wearing, not sure which time period this is.
#reality shifting#law of assumption#shiftblr#shifters#shifting blog#shifting community#desired reality#shifting realities#reality shift#shifted#shifting#kpop shifting#black shifters#shifting confessions#shifting consciousness#shifting storytime#shifting stories#shifting antis dni#sleep paralysis#shiftok is sometimes shit#loassumption#loa assumptions#loa blog#loablr#shifting motivation#scripting#rem sleep
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it might be an awkward question but-
HOW DO YOU MANAGE TO DRAW SO MUCH?? how do you get so many beautiful ideas? how do you keep yourself motivated? tell me your secret I will sell you my soul
🩵 🫴 take it.
Why thank you 🫳🩵
Ah the question ever
Truthful and simple answer is that there’s no secret
This might seem contradictory considering how much I post, but I genuinely am not as motivated or as inspired as I seem to be
I struggle a lot with ideas and motivation and that is a problem I have on a daily basis that’s been happening for years (I have SO many wips that I never shared)
It’s not about the struggle, it’s about how I curated my art to that struggle
I’m at a constant threat to experience burnout (certified chronic pain and chronic fatigue haver), so to combat that, I take measures to make sure I don’t burn myself out and actually reserve the very little energy I have to continue doing artworks/comics
To give you a specific example, if you notice with my comics, they’re always sketchy and are never colored, that’s not because I don’t want to make colored comics, but because of knowledge from previous experiences that if I actually forced myself to make colored comics, I’d immediately plunge to burnout and would probably not be able to draw for a few weeks after because of it (in fact the last time I made a colored comic was here, which is a rare occasion even then btw, and that comic caused me to experience a near burnout)
Which was extremely frustrating to me at some point might I add, because before 2021, I had no problem making so many colored comics and artworks at a short span of time, I actually had motivation before (something that is lost to me now), so you can imagine how genuinely frustrating it is, it even made me feel like I’m not a “real” artist
(The concept of what is considered a “real artist” is bullshit btw, someone who draws stickmen everyday is as much of a real artist as someone who makes diverse fully colored artworks with backgrounds and everything, as long as you use your creativity and turn it to something meaningful, you’re already a real artist, regardless of skill or the extent of which you are able to conceive with your art)
That being said, it’s all about finding your own footing and workflow, what works best for you? What doesn’t?
Some things that you’d love for them to work (in my case making colored comics) might not work in reality, life is disappointing like that, so it’s also about acceptance
Acceptance of yourself as you are, maybe it’s not what you truly strive for, maybe you wish you could do more, but sometimes taking a step back and looking into yourself to see if you can actually achieve what you want with the resources you have could be life saving
So when it comes to motivation? Find your workflow, what are the things that you know could make you lose your motivation? On the other hand, what are the things that preserve your motivation?
Not only that, but time management is also a contributing factor
Of course, my own way to preserve my motivation/energy is as follows:
1- never force myself to finish artworks/comics if I feel like I can’t (even if I really really want to), I save them up for later when my motivation for them kicks back in
2-let perfectionism go, if I keep fretting over whether every line in an artwork looks good I’ll never accomplish anything but destroy my mental health (certified perfectionist speaking btw)
3-comics stay as sketches, as much as I want to make beautifully colored comics, I know this will only contribute to my burnout, so keeping it real with myself and what I can accomplish with my own resources (energy, time, health, etc) is important
4-making multiple sketches in a day then choosing what fancies my brain that day, or getting back to older sketches I already made before (sometimes months before) to see if my brain has the itch to work on any of them, by doing that, then I’m giving myself actual diversity in choices to choose from, which helps me feel like I don’t have to be forced to work on anything new, or something that I don’t wanna work on
For clarification, I’m talking actual sketches, not cleaned up ones, if you make clean sketches you won’t be able to make multiple ones in the same day
Here’s an example of what I mean by sketches
5-stop beating myself up over things I can’t control, if I keep being harsh on myself over the fact I couldn’t finish an artwork or the fact I’m not satisfied with it, it’ll only contribute to make me feel bad about myself and that would only contribute to me losing even more motivation which contributes to beating myself up and so the self torture cycle goes on, myself deserves to be pat on the back gently and be told “it’s ok, you’ll get there in time”
6-teach myself that it’s ok to lose motivation, there are times in which I do not open my art app for weeks, instead of hating myself for it, I tell myself “you need time, you’re tired and you need the break”, and it’s true, if you lost motivation, it’s most likely due to something else contributing to it
So i just ask myself what’s up, sometimes, I’m overworked in other life aspects, other times I’m in too much pain, so instead of forcing myself through my demotivation, I take care of these factors demotivating me so I’d feel comfortable enough to be able to work on artworks again
If I couldn’t identify a factor contributing to my loss of motivation, then I take it as my own brain telling me that it needs the break, it needs the dopamine if doing something different and I do that, whether by watching my favorite shows, playing my favorite games, trying a different hobby like writing or reading, etc
7- work on my own time, sometimes I do finish artworks quickly, and I do have the capacity to do so, but I’ve noticed that my loss of motivation became less of an issue when I gave myself the actual time to work on artworks, sometimes, a simple artwork that I could finish in 20 minutes takes me weeks to finish, not because I can’t finish it earlier, but because I intentionally worked slowly on it as I’m working on other artworks just as slow, that way, I don’t overwhelm myself and I’m making progress on multiple artworks/comics at the same time, and seeing such progress gives me even more motivation
Cough, anyway, got lost in talking about motivation ghcchch
As for your other question about how I get my ideas, it’s usually something I saw that inspired me, whether an artwork, something irl, etc
Or even sometimes, my own artworks inspire ideas for comics, so I’d draw something, then ask myself (asking yourself questions is such a great helper when it comes to coming up with ideas) why is the character doing this? How did they get there? Etc
That helps me come up with answers which are then answered via comics or multiple different artworks
For example, this comic, what inspired it was me asking myself one simple question, “what would happen if Murder actually asked Nightmare for a visit home for once, instead of running away like he always does?”, and that immediately got me to work on the comic
Of course, it doesn’t mean I always am on the ready for an idea, in fact, a lot of the time my mind is blank, nothing up there to help me, which is why I turn to mindlessly sketching sometimes
I just open a canvas and start sketching, what? I don’t know, I’m just gonna sketch something, could be a character, environment, scribbles, meaningless lines etc, it’s my iwn version of a warm up, and it helps a lot with making my brain get into the zone
That’s all I can think of off the top of my head
Enjoy a look into my brain chhcchch
#ngl sometimes I wanna stream my art process from the beginning somewhere#just so you guys would see how much I struggle behind the scenes chchchhc#i know I make it look easy af#but I promise you if you see what I go through you’ll be even more confused by the frequency of which I post chhcchhv#anothers ask
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•ྀ༅ cause when you're around, I find it hard to breathe ೄ
pairings: grayson hawthorne x fem!reader | wc: 1.4k tags: academic rivals to lovers status: requested. sooo here it is, loads of banter and tension. not sure if this is ooc or not, just wanted to write something good that met the request. this takes place while gray is still in high school. give this love and support cause it took me SO long to make.
grayson hawthorne. the seemingly perfect heir with the pristine suits, and carefully styled blond hair. the untouchable, unreachable perfect student, and perfect grandson. never once had him been seen anything but under complete control of his emotions. he got perfect grades, and had always been at the top of his class; until you arrived.
one quality you shared with grayson hawthorne was your constant push towards perfection—partially due to the pressure imposed by your respective families, but also because of your own desire to find an ounce of self-worth in your grades, holding onto academic validation as if it were your lifeline.
one tends to clash with the ones who one shares the most personality traits; maybe that was the reason grayson, and you so often found yourselves invested in arguments. sharing strengths and goals mean also sharing weaknesses, the pair of you were two sides of the very same coin.
sharing weaknesses, as in knowing the heart-stopping feeling of turning a freshly-corrected exam around, only to be met with a grade below expected. the dart of your eyes over the red number, over, and over, with the faintest hope that in one of those darts, the number will change; but it never does. that’s when realization hits, when the pit in your stomach opens, when frustration bursts.
every time this happened, grayson’s instant reaction was to turn around, to hesitantly try to steal a glance of your mark; to try to find relief in your failure, to find a slimmer of hope in at least having scored better than you. and you did the exact same thing; every single time.
you shifted on your seat, hands anxiously fiddling with your hair. you tried to take a few deep breaths in, hoping it would ease the pressure building up on top of your chest. you had tried your best; spent two whole days as a walking-corpse, whose only intention was to feed itself off of academic approval, instead of human brains.
you could only pray for your effort to be fruitful, for the teacher to take into account that physics was far from your forte. but quite honestly, if you were to be met with failure, it wouldn’t be surprising. the test had surprised you, the questions had been more complicated than what you had anticipated, which lead you to turning it in with not much confidence.
the urge to take a quick glance to the person seating two seats cater-cornered from you; grayson hawthorne. questions whirled in your mind, was he confident in his results? or was he secretly as nervous as you? not that you could read that off his face anyway, he looked far too stoic for that.
the teacher’s steps were slow— too slow. each beat that passed was one more worry that emerged in your mind, christ, couldn’t this teacher simply give you your grade—as bad as it might be— and put you out of your misery? whatever was to come, it surely was better than the agonizing wait.
you watched the faces of your classmates, how their formerly neutral expressions shifted according to the red ink marking the paper sheet— turns out a number with a circle around it mattered quite a lot. the results of your schoolmates could have been guessed with not much difficulty; after all, all exam results were pretty much the same. the more carefree students obtaining barely-passing grades, the ‘normal’ students obtaining regular to good ones, and then separately, grayson and you, with your ever outstanding academic success.
the click of the teacher’s heel on the floor right in front of you was quick to snap you out of your thoughts. eyes nervously darting from the teacher's hands, to her face, in search of any hit of victory. and after the long delay, the paper was finally placed on your desk, your future within your reach at last.
seventy-eight percent. while not being an inherently bad number, it wasn’t too great, either. you still could have done better, tried harder, this wasn’t you. even if this wasn’t as much of a surprise, being hit with reality was still painful.
the minute class was over, you did not waste a minute and packed everything up, desperately trying to burry that reminder of failure deep within your bag, and deep within your mind. allow darkness to consume it, and hope you will never be reminded of it. In the midst of your escape attempt, you were unlucky enough to bump into a certain blonde.
“careful when you walk.” grayson told you, silently raising an eyebrow at your unusual frazzled behaviour. he stepped to the side, allowing you to make your way to the door, his eyes flickering from your head to your toes during a fraction of a second. “not too happy, i see?” what was originally intended to be a passing comment on grayson’s side ended up striking quite the chord in you.
“and you’re just so above everyone else.” you rolled your eyes, gripping the straps of your backpack tighter, nails digging into the fabric. “sometimes, maybe” a sentence clearly made with the sole goal to spite you. “how bad was it, either way?” he asked, leaning a bit closer, his stature more prominent now.
“sevety-eight.” your gaze dropping to the floor, not wanting to spot the cocky look he was probably going to give you.
“eighty-four,” he replied, as neutral as ever. “lucky for you, we don’t have that big of a difference—a shame, really.” could this really be? grayson hawthorne being nice to you for once?
cordiality was certainly a rare occurrence, your usual interactions ranged from witty banter, to actual major arguments, neither of you could ever seem to make peace with the other. the worst possible scenario, however, was that one where you had to work together. though the result of your partnership was nothing short of impressive, your creative differences often clashed, making room for endless dispute, and waste of your priced time. the poor librarian didn’t even bother telling you to quiet your arguing down at this point, trying to ease the tension between you two had proven futile.
grayson sighed, placing his book down on the table, and taking a peek at the text on your computer. you were tasked to do a research project, and being the overachievers you were, you took it upon yourselves to find as much information as possible. “i really hope that text you just wrote isn’t filled with information out of wikipedia.” in all fairness, he knew you would rather be caught dead than base your project on unreliable sources, but he still felt the need to make a witty remark.
“no, grayson, i did, in fact, not use wikipedia.” you gave him a deadpanned look, which he didn’t even bother returning, and instead took his book once more, ignoring your glares. “just making sure. don’t want you risking our grade.” god, how could be so infuriating while at the same time look so calm, and composed?
“well, if we’re going to play that game, i really hope that the book you’re reading isn’t ancient, and contains no outdated information.” you turned your head around, displease clear on your face, and on the verge of snapping. you could almost picture the worn-out expression on the face of the poor librarian the moment you raised your voice.
only this once, grayson’s gaze parted from the words on paper, and instead focused on yours. even if his eyes only played a look of perplexity, there was something about the way they lingered on yours, pupils momentarily focusing, as the icy grey eyes took hold of you.
“stop staring, and keep writing.”
“i wasn’t staring—and i won’t work until you tell me what year that book was published.” you used your best offended face, only earring an eye-roll from your partner’s side.
“here it says…” grayson’s slim fingers flipped the pages over, until he was met with the first two sheets of the book, “nineteen eighty-five.” his words sharp, not completely pleased with your request. “something more modern would be better, but i guess eighty-five will do.” you reluctantly accepted, taking a deep breath in, closing your eyes, and releasing it— just a few more hours, and you would be done with this.
that was it, i guess. i have more ideas for this, but i simply couldn't bring myself to keep writing of how burnt out this fic got me. if you would like a part 2 of this, let me know.
#sincerely aimee ౨ৎ#aimee's writing#grayson hawthorne#grayson hawthorne x reader#grayson hawthorne x you#grayson hawthorne imagine#grayson hawthorne fic#the inheritance games#the grandest game#the final gambit#the brothers hawthorne#grayson hawthorne enemies to lovers#academic rivals#academic rivals grayson hawthorne
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You know, it drives me crazy to know that technically there’s two (at least in terms of prominence cause I think there’s also a TFA one though it doesn’t seem as talked about) canonical Shattered Glass continuities: the one made by FunPub and the IDW reboot.
Cause the thing is, those two comics have vastly different Megatrons and Optimus Primes.
Like we have FunPub Megatron who is a mathematician and Optronix who was a librarian that backstabbed his way to the top.
Then we have the IDW versions where Megatron is a miner/civil activist who keeps getting tossed into jail and Orion Pax who is a senator in this version.
And what fascinates me is that in the FunPub version, Optimus actually lives (though he becomes Nova Prime). Meanwhile, in the IDW version, I think he dies (?) or well his fate is much worse in comparison to FunPub!OP.
Also what’s up with both Megatrons having a fakeout death? FunPub!Megatron does get killed by Cyclonus but he comes back as Galvatron. Meanwhile IDW!Megatron gets defeated by OP and is momentarily thought to be dead (he just went into self-exile).
There’s not actually a lot of difference between the two OPs (cause honestly they both seem insane), though I guess one could interpret FunPub!OP as much more depressing cause the only reason he’s evil is cause he saw life as meaningless unless history remembers you and when he becomes Nova Prime, he’s still a little jerk but he’s tamer so I assume that was his original personality. IDW!OP just wants total power and only initially hides behind a nice facade.
The two Megatrons are vastly different though in my opinion. Cause FunPub!Megatron really was just some guy who predicted civil war and was good enough to want to stop it (this Megatron wasn’t affected by the caste system, he just genuinely saw something wrong was happening and chose to do something about it). IDW!Megatron was someone who was affected by the caste system and was trying his best to bring attention to it. FunPub!Megatron is also very nice (like not overly nice but he’s genuinely such a nice guy and this is why he’s my favorite aside from him being a nerd lmao). IDW!Megatron is a bit more jaded (which is fair cause the caste system is horrible and his “friend” is an asshole).
Even the relationship between OP and Megatron are different in both continuities. I’m pretty sure in FunPub these two never interacted before the war, where OP gets pissed that this random mathematician is opposing him. In IDW, OP and Megatron were “friends” with OP even bailing Megatron out of jail, though their “friendship” was already toxic even before the war cause Megatron seemed to really see through OP’s BS.
All this to say, there should really be a crossover between both continuities.
SGFunPub!Megs and SGIDW!OP meeting would be kinda fun and dangerous, especially if they meet each other before the civil war broke out. Megatron wouldn’t know who OP is while OP would see another version of his Megatron who he could possibly trick. Also this has the added bonus of a hilarious scenario where Megatron predicts OP is the cause of the civil war through math and that pisses off OP cause genuinely tf you mean you computed that through math. This one is more dangerous though as OP genuinely wants power and will not be swayed by whatever Megatron says.
SGIDW!Megs and SGFunPub!OP might honestly end up the happier version ngl. Cause OP clearly has an existential crisis that Megatron can probably fix by convincing him that OP can still be remembered in history by doing the right thing… such as being a civil rights activist. Like… I’m just saying maybe FunPub!OP needs therapy (and unlike IDW!OP, he actually gets a canonical redemption arc so he’s not completely lost).
.
.
.
Anyway, will I write this? Maybe (I really shouldn’t though cause I have a series and two writing requests to finish lmao). Because I am officially employed now and thus have a fixed schedule unlike the previous weeks where my schedule was erratic (which is not good for my OCD as I need a fixed schedule or I will be very upset sksksksk) as I had nothing to do but read, play video games, and exist lmao
#transformers shattered glass#shattered glass#sg idw#sg funpub#sg megop#sg megatron#sg optimus prime#optronix#megop#opmeg
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Hey, sorry if I'm bothering you or anything. But I am curious, like what would happen if Bumblebee is a femme (female), and what are his teammates and crushes reaction to that?
Well, that's interesting.
There could be two takes on that, either she is a femme by forging or some freak incident with the allspark shard happened and turned him genderbend.
In my mind Cybertronians are aliens so they don't really need to represent themselves as male/female. I'd say the population is about 2/3ds of them having binary pronouns and expressions while the rest just does their own thing. Of couse, while this is a fairly common thing, that doesn't mean where aren't bad things like sexism or xenophobia (mostly towards warframes cuz majority are Decepticons).
If you're in a bad part of town, you might stumble into these types of bots. Minibots aren't takes as seriously as a normal civil frame would, but the lower in morale you go you'll find that these shady folks often treat minis as lap pets.
If Bee was a femme by forging she'd have a hard time staying out of trouble considering most mechs tried to harass her over he frame. Even if she wasn't the most femme-looking and curvy it was quite obvious she was in fact a femme. Most often than not mechs would comment on her big chest kibble.
Wasp was one of those mechs, he'd constantly try and grope the fellow mini and try to intimidate her to be his sparkmate ut it never worked. He thought she was playing tough but in reality she just wanted away from this creep. Thankfully Bulkhead turned out to be different; the mech tried to approach her many times and she just thought he wanted to hit her up too. Took a while and a Bulkhead defending her from Wasp to realize he just wanted to befriend her.
In case of crushes, Bee had 3; Longarm from the times of boot camp. Prowl from their times on earth and Blitzwing who she inconveniently found attractive during their battles.
I don't think it would be much different form how Bee would be treated as a mech. I mean, Longarm was essentially a school buddy, they got along well, maybe something blossomed and it only became something serious once on earth.
Prowl is the exact same, he'll treat Bee the same way he'd treat him as a mech. But I can see few folks teasing him about having no sense of personal space when he and Bee are bickering. Who knows, maybe one day after a much heated fight between the two, Prowl will wake up and realize Bee has been on his mind all the time and is not as annoying as he makes himself believe.
Blitzwing- honestly, he'd be smitten the first time he sees her. He's been trying his luck in the Legion but everyone always turns him away, mostly due to his condition. But then he sees this tiny cute femme with sharp glossa and visible enjoyment for odd things and he's all over her. He'll flirt in the middle of the fight and pretend they're dancing and not trying to off one another. He'll bring her flowers and stolen objects he'd think she might like, Bee is so tired of this adorator but at the same time she really enjoys it. The others are just annoyed at his courting.
If Bee was somehow turned femme on Earth it would be pretty funny. I've actually had an idea a while back on this.
They were trying to reach the shard but it was one of the unstable ones; it caused everything around to go haywire and, as one of the weirdest things it did, it transformed various machinery into other things. Like forklifts shifted parts to become ice cream machines spurting oil, that sort of thing. They managed to get it but of course, Bee has been hit in the process. he woke up and only after the others saw him he realized what happened. He was a tad more curvy than his mech self, his subspace was now hanging from his hips and he has door wings. His horns were a bit thinner and longer and his peded gained heel struts much like Prowl had. Even his voice shifted to be on a higher note.
At first he was freaking out but over time he got used to it, maybe even like it. The others were sure surprised and had to adjust but there wasn't much issues. Well, except Optimus who seemed a tad uneasy at the sight whenever they spoke.
I would say Prowl was definitely surprised at the sudden change, more surprised when he caught himself being nicer towards Bee in general. They were working on a way to reverse this back since Bee seemed to want his old look back but overtime Prowl noticed Bee changing his demeanor when speaking on the topic. One time he approached the scout when he was sitting alone on the roof and asked what was wrong. Bee then asked him if how he'd feel if he stayed like this instead of going back to his old self.
Prowl didn't expect that but said that if he wants to stay like this he should do it. Bee confessed he has grown to enjoy being a femme, he was glad the one he cared about the most was supportive of it. Ratchet understood too, he just wished Bee would've told him sooner so he wouldn't have spend a good amount of their resources preparing for the frame upgrading. And so Bee officially became a femme and even switched his pronouns to be she/her. It was a short while before everyone got the hang of it and all was good. Well, except Sentinel who now not only harassed Bee cuz he hated him but also was being a creep. But except for that all was good.
Blitzwing's reaction would be when they are already dating and Bee shows up wearing a blanket, covering it up as him being cold. At some point Blitz accidentally rips the blanket off and sees Bee's frame. He wasn't sure why Bee was so nervous about it, those were great upgrades! Then he heard how he got those "upgrades" and it made sense. He still loved Bee and didn't care one bit about his new look- well, except the door wings, he couldn't get enough of them and knowing all the common sensitive spots for flight frames he had one hell of a fun time watching Bee be all flustered and fluttery when he touched them. When Bee showed up to another meeting with much more confident attitude he knew something was up. Bee told him about the plans to bring back his old look so he was quite surprised to hear that was scrapped and Bee was a she now. Of course he gave her extra loving that night and maybe they discovered a few new things about her anatomy. Blitz certainly enjoyed every bit of his new-old Bee.
Idk is Longarm/Shockwave would care much. Longarm is more on the mech expression, Shockwave has nb vibes with he/him pronouns. He'd support Bee during his journey of coping and discovery and he'd be happy when Bee finds his new self that he's happy with. i'm not really sure what to write here tbh.
And that's it. Hope you liked it!
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Okay can you please make a Emotional Dad Folio x fem reader fic who after a tough and risky labor gets to see his wife and baby safe and sound finally. But even better him finally getting to hold his baby for the first time and just having a full tears and snot breakdown cause he was scared and is just happy they're okay
This is just the sweetest. I had this whole scenario played out in my head before I even wrote it down 😁🥰
Emotional Dad
Tag list:
@philomenie @supersquirrel1996 @foliosgirl @angelmarie89 @fadingintothegrey @thisbicc @lacy1986 @dominuslunae @shayzillaaaa @mrsnoahsebastian @flowery-mess @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @stardustsirenmelody @romanreigns-supreme @anything-more-than-human @into-the-grey @rumoured-whispers @myownthoughts12 @sister-sebastian @missduffsblog @bngurngheart @somebodyllelse @xxkittenkissesxx @dizzylmwahh @supersquirrel1996 @kenjipepsi1 @blackveilomens @chey-h
I wasn't even sure I wanted kids until the moment my girl came to me with something in her hand. Y/N was glowing and never looked as pretty as she did in that moment when she told me to close my eyes. Her excitement made me excited. After pecking her lips, I closed my eyes. The item she put in my hands weighed about as much as a feather, so when Y/N told me to open my eyes, what I saw wasn't at all what I expected; a pregnancy test with two blue lines. She was pregnant. It was then I realized that the idea of having a baby was really something I wanted, but only because it was with the woman standing in front of me. Picking her up, I hugged and kissed Y/N, assuring her I was thrilled about us having a baby, and as the months went by and her belly grew bigger and bigger, the anticipation of meeting our child grew. Thankfully, our love making didn't stop. Y/N was even more beautiful with our baby growing inside her, making her so irresistible that I found it difficult to keep my hands off of her. The first few months were nothing, but as the baby got bigger so did her belly making it kind of hard. I grew nervous, even after reading everything I did about it, but Y/N reassured me that it was okay and that it wouldn't hurt the baby. After that, it was game on, buddy, and we made some of the best love the two of us had ever had. We were happy, and so ready to meet our little one, but not just yet. There was still a little while to go before that could happen. Or so we thought.
"Nick! Nick! Wake up, please!" Y/N shrieked in pain as she sat up in bed clutching her belly. "Oh god, it freaking hurts."
Folio sat up, completely startled.
"What is it, sweetheart?" he asked sleepily, rubbing his eyes. "I don't know! Something hurts, really bad, ohhh! Ouch!"
Y/N started crying, gripping the bed sheets tightly. Folio jumped out of bed, slipping on a pair of jeans, socks and his shoes, before grabbing his keys and wallet. Sending a quick text to the guys in a group chat, he leapt over to Y/N's side of the bed.
"Is it contractions? The, er, the ones you say aren't real?" "Braxton Hicks, and no, this is not them. Oh god! Baby, something is wrong!"
Folio placed his hand on his wife's belly, feeling just how active their little one was. But he noticed that something didn't feel right. Lifting Y/N's shirt, the round shape of her belly made him grin. He was definitely going to miss it and the feeling of their baby moving around inside. He leaned down and kissed it while gently running his hands all over, pushing on certain spots and noting things that once felt familiar didn't anymore. In Y/N's lower abdomen where the baby's head should be, there were movements that shouldn't, and feeling up the middle of her belly, he no longer felt the tightness of where the little knees and feet should be. Folio frowned, fearing that what he was thinking might be true. Y/N shrieked in pain, screaming through a loud cry.
"Nick! Make it stop! Please!" she begged, grabbing his arm. "Okay, baby. Alright," he said as calmly as he could. Throwing a shirt on, he helped Y/N up and to the car, running back in to grab the overnight bags.
All the way to the hospital, Y/N held on to her husband's arm, gripping his hand tighter each time the pain came. Her cries and pleas for the pain to stop wrecked his heart and it killed him knowing he couldn't stop it or take any of it away.
"Nick, I love you," Y/N said breathlessly through her pain. "Thank you for being here. Thank you for being so nice."
Folio chuckled.
"I love you, too, Sweetheart. We're going to get through this, okay? It might not seem okay right now, but in the end everything's going to be alright. And hopefully, soon, we'll be holding our baby."
Y/N looked over at him and smiled the best she could despite the pain, nodding quickly right before another wave of pain hit. Finally getting to the hospital, Folio walked Y/N into the labor and delivery ward, calling for help the moment they stepped in. A nurse brought over a wheelchair and helped Y/N sit then wheeled her through a set of double doors as Folio filled out paperwork and informed them on what was happening.
"Wait! Where are you taking her?" Folio asked in a panic, abandoning the paperwork. "Mr. Folio, it's fine. Your wife is being taken to a room. I'll take you there once you're finished."
Nick sighed, running his hand through his hair. He'd been trying his hardest to keep it together for Y/N, but now that he wasn't with her, he felt like he might fall apart. The doors behind him opened and in walked his four brothers, instantly making him feel better.
"What's the word, Folio," Noah asked, his tone thick with concern.
Nick shook his head.
"I'm about to head back. She's in a room, I think." "Do you know what happened? Why is she in so much pain?" asked Jolly.
Folio sighed. "I think, and I could be wrong; God I hope I'm wrong, but I think the baby is breached."
The guys looked at one another, some of them shrugging.
"It means the baby is trying to come out feet and bottom first instead of head first," Folio explained with a sigh. "Oh, fuck no!" Matt cried, biting his knuckle. “Couldn’t that seriously hurt her and the baby?” Nicholas asked.
Before anyone could answer, the double doors opened and a different nurse than before came out.
"Mr. Folio, can you please come with me?" "What's wrong? Is my wife okay?" "Can you please just come with me, sir,” the nurse beckoned Nick towards the double doors.
"Can they come, too?" he asked, nodding at the other four.
The nurse creased her forehead and pursed her lips.
"Are they yours or your wife's family?" "One hundred percent we are," Jolly spoke up.
The nurse cracked a smile, nodding sharply.
"Fine. Follow me."
She led them down the hall, to the right, down another short hall, and to the right again, stopping at a door to a waiting room. Folio looked at her confused.
"Wait. What about the room she was supposed to be in? I thought she was going into a delivery room."
Folio's heart started pounding.
"She was, but then something happened and they had to take her to surgery," the nurse said softly. She opened the door and ushered the boys in. "Hold up! Surgery! What do you mean surgery," Noah snapped.
Nick thought he was going to be sick. He was bent over, breathing hard and trying not to panic, but the thought of something terrible happening to his wife and child felt like his world was crashing down on him.
"Mrs. Folio is in surgery because the baby is breached. If you don't know what that means," "We know what it means," Matt interrupted, scowling at the nurse. She scowled right back. "Will they be alright?"
Folio was motionless, standing next to Nicholas. He felt sick, unable to move. He looked at the nurse as two small tears slid down his cheeks.
"I can't say. I don't have enough information. You all can wait here until a surgical nurse comes out and gives you better information. Should be within the hour."
With that, she turned and walked out another door, opposite the one they came in.
Folio paced. He sat, he paced, he ran his hands consistently through his hair, bit his nails, and then sat some more. He fought the tears, but lost the battle, allowing them to fall as he thought about the idea of losing Y/N. A world without her was one he didn't want to think about. Then he thought about his child, the little life he had yet to meet. He didn't even know the sex yet because he and Y/N chose to find out at birth. The tears fell harder as Nick sat back down, covering his face in his hands. After what felt like hours, a nurse came into the waiting room. She wasn't smiling, but not a lot of the nurses in the hospital did, as Nick picked up on.
"Mr. Folio, I need you to come with me, please," she ordered. All of them started to follow her, but she stopped them. "Only you."
Folio looked from her to the guys, then back to the nurse.
"Okay," he agreed, weakly.
He knew what was coming. He could feel it as he walked the hall, following the nurse closely. His wife was dead, and possibly their child, too. It was obvious from the way the nurse looked at him and spoke. The thought made Folio cry harder, no longer caring who saw.
Weeping silently, they rounded a corner, stopping at a room with a closed door. Gently knocking, the nurse opened the door and they entered into a dimly lit room. It took a moment for Nick's eyes to adjust, but when they did the first thing he saw was Y/N. She was alive and well, resting comfortably in a bed with their baby in her arms. Folio gasped, the very intake of breath hitching in the back of his throat.
"Did you think something bad had happened?" the nurse whispered. Nick huffed a light laugh, pushing his hair back. "Yeah, kind of."
The nurse placed her hand on Folio's back and patted it gently.
"They're both perfectly fine. Your wife went through it, but she's a fighter. You better worship the ground she walks on from now on."
Folio grinned.
"I already do, ma'am." "Good. Then go be with your girls. They need you."
Folio froze, eyes widening.
"Girls?"
The nurse smiled big.
"You didn't know you were having a daughter?" "No. We decided to wait." "Well, now the wait is over."
Folio smiled, focusing his attention back to his girls as the nurse left the room. The sound of the door closing caught Y/N's attention. She looked up and smiled the moment her eyes landed on her husband.
"Nick! Come here! Come meet our daughter!" she said quietly as to not wake the sleeping child.
Nick's chest no longer ached. He was able to take a deep breath as he urgently made his way over to the bed, never taking his eyes off his wife. Even though she looked exhausted, Y/N was still the most beautiful thing ever to him. She was alive. She was healthy. She was his.
"Are you okay? You look worried."
Y/N took his hand and brought it to her face, kissing his palm sweetly.
"Yeah," Folio smiled even though his eyes welled up with tears. "I'm fine. Just really happy you're okay. Both of you."
He wasn't about to indulge his wife with his fears and worries of the past hour. He'd save that for another day. He shifted his gaze from Y/N to the sleeping bundle in her arms; his daughter.
"Do you want to hold her?"
Nick's eyes swiftly looked at Y/N's.
"But she's asleep." "That's okay. She won't mind. I'm sure she wants to finally meet her daddy," Y/N said sweetly to him.
At first, he was terrified, but after leaning over and taking the tiny baby into his arms, Folio had never felt more happy and complete as he did right then. She fit perfectly in the cook of his arm, all bundled up in her tiny pink blanket. Her little button nose and small thin lips were like those of a baby doll, and for a brief moment, Folio thought he might accidently break her. And that's when he broke. Tears ran down his face as he cried, gazing upon the face of his little girl, and he sniffed and sniffed as the tears fell onto her blanket.
"Babe, what's wrong?" Y/N asked gently.
At first, Folio just shook his head, unable to speak.
"Hey, come here, come sit with me," she patted the spot on the bed in front of her.
"Talk to me, Nick. Tell me what you're thinking."
"I thought I lost you," he said, his voice breaking. "I didn't know what happened to you when they took you back through those double doors."
Y/N's shoulders fell.
"Babe, oh no, I'm so sorry," she apologized, laying her forehead on her husband's shoulder and placing her hand on his thigh.
"I waited for over an hour and no one could or wouldn't tell me anything. I didn't know what to think. When they told me that the baby was breached, it almost killed me. I knew back at the house that something didn't feel right when I laid my hands on your belly, but I wasn't prepared for everything that happened. I just..."
Folio hung his head, weeping quietly. His shoulders shook as he hugged his daughter to his chest, silently thanking God that she was okay.
"Nick, baby, I'm so sorry you went through all of that," Y/N apologized, choking up on her words. "Everything on our end went okay; just really fast. They told me she was breached and that made everything make sense. I wasn't really scared about the surgery, but just freaked out because you weren't with me. They told me you couldn't be because it was an emergency procedure. But I didn't feel anything and it was all over quicker than I realized."
Folio nodded, wiping his nose on the should of his shirt before placing a kiss on his daughter's head.
"Where do I lay her?" "Right here," Y/N told him, pointing to the rolling bassinet next to her.
Nick laid the baby down, caressing her little cheek before leaving her to find his wife. He stood over her, admiring the face he loved so much, thankful that they were finally together again. Y/N carefully scooted over some and Nick climbed in, throwing his arm around her shoulder where she settled in comfortably. Having him close to her again made Y/N feel complete.
"I love you, Nick. "I love you, too Sweetheart, and our little angel." "I realize she needs a name, right?"
Nick could hear the smile in her voice.
"Any ideas?" "No. You?" "Not yet. Let's get to know her a little first." "She needs one before we leave the hospital."
Folio smiled, kissing his wife's forehead.
"She'll have one."
Y/N grinned, burying herself deeper into Folio's side where she fell asleep almost instantly.
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Qi Bao:
Bao is 6 years old, and the youngest of their family. Bao was born… very differently then their siblings. Bao is genetically neither boy, nor girl, and thus goes by They/them. Being the youngest, Bao has a lot of growing up to do, and a lot more things to learn in this crazy world.
Haoyu: There is a very large age gap between these two. The things that Haoyu worries about, thinks about, and dreams of, are distant concepts to Bao. Relationships and mates are like cooties and gross, being King is a childish playtime routine for the day, and having the world look at you just feels like- a lot of strangers looking at you for some reason. It was also difficult for Bao to understand Haoyu most of the time. Their older brother truly doesn’t talk a lot due to their ears. But Bao really loves their big brother. Haoyu has this cute little mini drum toy that he plays whenever he comes home so Bao knows. Bao gets piggy back rides, dress up time, action figure fights, and all sorts of fun from their big brother. Haoyu hasn’t told anyone else this, but whispered to Bao that they would be his best man at the wedding! When Bao asked what wedding, Haoyu wrote in their palm, “When I ask my love to be my forever mate- that wedding. It just hasn’t happened yet.” Bao hates cooties, BUT they will make an exception this one time.
MK: MK is so cool! Like a big hero! Bao like to listen and watch MK’s energy to copy him, mimicking everything he does. One time MK leapt off the mountain side to show off a cool trick- and Bao jumped right with him! They both got really scolded by Baba that day. Bao likes the feeling of MK’s head band and often sneaks it to wear for a little bit. MK usually gets mad if anyone does this- but not at Bao. Sometimes MK is superrrrr frustrating cause they won’t let Bao do fun things like he does, or like the others do. Bao is gonna get super strong just like MK to show MK doesn’t have to watch over them all the time! Plus! Bao’s Shade is so strong, sometimes it can even give MK a run for his money! So Bao has a super tough ace up their sleeve, as Xue tells them. If Bao gets scared or lonely, they got to their Daddy. But if Daddy isn’t home, Bao goes to MK next. MK is a lot like him- how he talks, and walks, and smells. Bao thinks MK would be a good Daddy too just like their Daddy. But MK thinks Mates are gross and covered in cooties too, just like Bao!
Xiaohua: Xiaohua is like Baba in how he talks. Really expressive and descriptive and just- it just makes sense in Bao’s brain when Xiaohua describes something. Xiaohua is always getting Bao treats and toys, and new Tea and Noodles band merch! Bao really really really loves that band, and so does Xiaohua! They sing, and dance- and Xiaohua and Rumble makes songs with Bao like a real band. Bao wants to be a singer when they get big. Xiaohua one time, late in the night, snuck Bao out to go to a concert. He brought MK’s noise cancellation headphones to block out all the really powerful sounds, and sat Bao on his shoulders the entire concert. That had been the first time they had ever been out of the mountains without their parents. It was a night they would never forget. Bao doesn’t like to copy Xiaohua like they do MK, cause Xiaohua likes to steal and do tricks- but… Bao likes how big Xiaohua’s heart is too. It’s big like MK’s.
Sying: Bao has a favorite sibling. All their siblings spoil them, and protect them, and treat them with great care… but Sying is different. Everyone treats Bao so carefully, like they might break- but Sying tosses Bao over her shoulder and throws them into the river as strong as she can! It’s- it’s amazing! She wakes Bao up early in the morning, drags Bao out of bed to train- doesn’t go easy on him. Doesn’t pretend to lose- she never lets Bao win, ever. Sying often just tucks Bao under her arm and walks off the mountain- she gets scolded a lot for this, but Bao doesn’t mind. Bao has to remind her “I am blind” and she just stands there all dumbfounded because she honestly forgets! She forgets… Because it isn’t a focus for her. Bao loves her a lot. Super a lot! She is strong, and kind, and her fur is soft, and she is honest… Like, honest in a real way. Bao wants to be like her, when they grow up. She still protects Bao, but Bao also protects Sying. They protect each other.
Savage: Bao wants Savage to be like Sying and- and play with them! Properly! Savage likes to prank on everyone but Xue, and Bao. Xue is scary, so that is fine, but Bao wants pranks done to them too! Bao even tried learning pranks to do on Savage, to make Savage mad, so that he would prank back. It didn’t make Savage made though- he seemed happy? Instead of playing pranks on him, Savage would bring Bao with him to play pranks on others. It wasn’t quite what Bao had in mind, but… they like it. They like giggling and making little schemes with Savage and learning to be sneaky like he is. Not that Bao likes to be sneaky and mean- so their pranks usually involve silly things like string and funny noises. Savage works with that best he can. Together the two are trying to prank Xiaohua. It hasn’t really worked. Xiaohua is too clever. But they did prank Daddy! That was funny!
Rumble: Rumble is the hardest person for Bao to talk to. While Haoyu doesn’t talk a lot, he still can. Rumble however, can’t talk at all, so it is very tricky for Bao to know what they are talking about as clear as the others. Not that Rumble has a lot to say anyway. Rumble has to write in their palm a lot so Bao knows what he wants to say. That can take a bit though, especially when Bao doesn’t know how to read words or letters yet. Their language barrier was far worse when Bao was smaller. It’s a bit easier now, but they have also always had their own way of talking. Savage always knew what was on Rumble’s mind and could translate, and sometimes… it was just clear what Rumble was trying to say. Bao doesn’t know how to explain it. Plus, they don’t need to be able to talk to make music!! Bao and rumble make the best music together. Like their own personal language. Bao also likes to hear Rumbles thoughts on- who they are. Bao doesn’t really understand what they are or what “feels” right, but Rumble assures them that they’ll understand it more as they get older. That they will always love Bao exactly for who they are, no matter who that turns out to be.
Xue: Everyone is afraid of Xue. Xue is very very scary, when she wants to be. But also super sweet, when she wants to be. She is an onion. Cause, you know, of the layers? That is how Savage explains her to be. She doesn’t like how Savage talks about her. Xue likes to make Bao a lot of soft clothes that they like, so Bao doesn’t complain a lot. She is nice to Bao and gives them sweets. She always asks questions about their Shade too. They talk and talk and talk about fun things like toys, and games, and books, and about the instability of the government- typical things. Bao learns a lot from her. She really cares about the Kingdom. She knows what works and what doesn’t- always knows when something is wrong and how to fix it. A lot of people look at her like she is a meanie who just wants power but- Bao thinks she just wants to be in charge because she knows how to run things “efficiently’ as she says. She wants people to not suffer needlessly… She is kind, just in her own way.
Previous Sibling Qi Xue
(Bao has also gone through a bit of a redesign. Still the same look, but their hair is colored differently)
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𝔟𝔢𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔡 𝔱𝔬 𝔭𝔢𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔢𝔩𝔢 𝔴𝔬𝔲𝔩𝔡 𝔦𝔫𝔠𝔩𝔲𝔡𝔢
requested!
⁎⁺˳✧༚80s-90s rock masterlist
protective in a sweet and loving way
he’s not hovering over you
he's not constantly with you
always looking out for you and making sure you're safe, but in the most gentle, loving way
but his quiet watchfulness shows he cares
honestly you could talk to him for hours
on hours
he’s just so easy to talk to
art, philosophy, or the universe. he will talk about anything
his deep voice and soft-spoken manner would draw you in (cause it totally draws me in),
making even the heaviest topics feel like they’re part of a private world only the two of you understand.
he is such a homebody
like he never wants to leave your side
or the couch
despite his imposing appearance, he’d be a romantic at heart.
small gestures—like leaving you a note or remembering little things you like—would mean the world to him.
you’d always find him doing something thoughtful to make you smile.
so like big friendly giant
i swear, if i had a dollar for every time i made you laugh, we’d be rich by now. but since we’re not, maybe i should start charging you for my jokes
he might not be openly affectionate in public, but when you're alone, peter would be incredibly loving, often pulling you into a long hug or brushing his fingers against your skin as a sign of affection.
his love is shown through actions more than words.
i’m not good with words, but i hope you know how much you mean to me
his loyalty is FIRM
he will STICK WITH YOU
NEVER EVER doubting your love for eachother
when you’d get him laughing, it would be one of the most genuine and hearty laughs you've ever heard.
he might come off as a bit serious, but with you, he’d let his guard down and enjoy the little things in life.
you both share a look when something happens—whether it’s an inside joke or just an unspoken moment between the two of you.
it’s the kind of look that could speak volumes without saying a word, and you both know it means everything.
peter loves hugs.
when he gets home from a show or a long day, his first instinct is to wrap you in his arms, holding you tight for a moment before letting go.
it’s his way of grounding himself after the chaos of the world.
sundays are SACRED
they are RESERVED
no matter how busy things get, you'll both make sure to spend the day together
it’s your ritual, and it’s one of the best parts of the week.
totally spoils the shit outta you
proposal was pretty big man
he took you to a place that's significant to your relationship—whether it’s where you first met or somewhere you’ve always wanted to go—and surprised you with a heartfelt proposal.
he made sure it was an intimate moment, with just the right amount of surprise and emotion.
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What do you think would happen in fem!Stan aus if their parents find out her and Ford are having sex?
whoa boy. I mean. it would be Bad. I'm in the camp of Filbrick was an abusive dad, far more so to Stan than to Ford. With Stan, I lean towards it was physical as well as emotional and verbal. Ford didn't exactly have it easy with the weight of all filbrick's expectations placed on his shoulders, feeling like he had to be extra perfect bc of his birth defect and his intelligence, and this sense of responsibility for Stan, like anything Stan did was a reflection on him. I'm also not very forgiving to Caryn. I see a lot of people saying things like "she loved her boy" and I'm just not so sure. Especially with fem Stan, I think Caryn was critical about her looks and would she ever find a husband, and she let those criticisms be known. Stan never had to wonder if her parents didn't like her. They were clear on that front. Last born, totally unexpected, another mouth to feed, and worst of all: a girl.
I typically also think that the entire family hides the severity of what happens to Stan from Ford. it's the one cause they're all united on. I think filbrick and Caryn keep it secret as a means to control ford, because they think (know for a complete fact) that if ford knew, he would flip his lid and they would lose that potential meal ticket. they know that ford is choosing Stan over everything. Stan keeps it a secret because she's terrified that if ford knew, not only wold it break his heart, but he might try to fight for her, and she's so scared that filbrick would start hitting him too.
as for getting caught. yikes. I think they would place all the blame on Stan and the beating would very nearly kill her. it would just be terrible. typically with my version of the fem!stan au, I keep a lot of things very close to canon. She's even still named Stanley rather than constance bc I think doing that shows how little filbrick regarded her when she was born. their life plan was two boys and that's it (I headcanon older shermie). not only does Stan show up unwanted, but she also has the gall to be a girl. I usually still go with fem Stan being thrown out after the science fair incident, rather than other things I've seen like her running away. but for this, for them getting caught, it's the late 60s-ish. I think they might bring her to an asylum. maybe if it was something slightly less, like if she got knocked up but they didn't know it was bc of ford, maybe they would try to marry her off or ship her away to distant relatives. but this is so huge, I really think they'd have her committed. and ford, oh man, if ford knows that's what's happening, he'd go ballistic. ford is far, far more protective (and consequently, far more hurt and angry when betrayed) of fem Stan. that's not just his twin, not just the person he's in love with, it's his little sister, and despite the romantic/sexual feelings, that's been drilled into him his entire life. big brothers are supposed to take care of their little sisters, and ford is the big brother that really matters when it comes to Stan. they've always been so close. two halves of a whole, it doesn't work if they aren't together
yeah, I think he'd just lose his mind. literally clawing thru the dry wall. I think if they got caught, there wouldn't be a chance for the science fair shit to go down. ford would blow up at his parents, blow up at Shermie, and he would leave fire and brimstone in his wake trying to rescue Stan and get them as far away as possible to restart their lives. in some ways it's a happier ending for them, but man is it rough
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Hope: Chapter 3
Arcane Fanfic: Non-Canon Compliant
Jinx sits quietly, brushing Vi’s shaggy mane of fiery hair, singing softly: “Dear friend, across the river. My hands are cold and bare. Dear friend, across the river, I’ll take what you can spare…”
She smiles and sets the brush aside, leaning down and pressing her forehead to her older sister’s.
“You’d probably hate to hear this... but I think the long hair suits you. It makes you look...softer... like you’ve experienced something other than pain in life... other than the fight.”
“I happen to agree,” a polite, nervous voice says from the doorway.
Jinx looks up to see Caitlyn Kiramman standing in the doorway, smiling awkwardly.
“Welcome back. How was the meeting?” Jinx asks.
Caitlyn walks in, setting down a bundle of papers and scrolls with a sigh. “Oh, the business of setting things right and rebuilding... exhausting, but worthwhile. Especially given my part in the breaking.” She smiles sadly and sits in the chair across from Jinx.
In the week or so since Jinx had been moved from the bunker, she and Caitlyn had slowly started finding a rhythm. They were cordial and cautious—not in the way of two people setting their mutual hatred aside for a common cause, but in the way of two people realizing that hatred meant nothing anymore and afraid they’d be the one to ruin it.
Caitlyn leans forward, resting an elbow on the arm of the chair. She scratches Vi’s left forearm gently with her nails. “When she would wake from nightmares, I would do this to soothe her back to sleep. I’d give anything for her eyes to open now... even if they were full of the hatred I deserve.”
“We all made mistakes, Caitlyn, and we’ve both hurt her,” Jinx offers quietly.
Caitlyn looks at her, and Jinx is shocked to see gratitude in her eyes. Caitlyn shakes her head gently.
“I was deceived... and preyed upon... I know this. But my mistakes were mine. The Piltover council recognizes that they all agreed to martial law, and as such, the occupation of Zaun was... technically lawful. And they found enough documentation in Ambessa’s private offices to prove I didn’t know about the brutality happening in Stillwater. But...”
“Zaun wants more,” Jinx says simply.
Caitlyn nods. “And they are right to. Regardless of the whole story, they suffered. But I think I’ve found a solution.” She brushes Vi’s hair from her eyes.
“I really miss her, Jinx. Father says she should wake any day, but... she gives me strength.”
“Me too,” Jinx whispers. She looks up and sees tears in Caitlyn’s eyes. “Caitlyn... Zaun... what did you offer them?” she asks, a small bit of apprehension blooming in her stomach.
Caitlyn sits back and smiles ruefully. “Well, it isn’t finalized yet, so I didn’t want to tell you. Firstly, I believe I’ve secured your pardon.”
Jinx sits back, mouth open. She looks at Caitlyn, this woman she took so much from, who hated her and whom she hated in return. “Why?”
Caitlyn runs her hands through her hair. “I meant what I said, Jinx... I want to give Vi a world worth waking up to. If she woke up and you were still suffering, it might break that heart of hers for good. I won’t allow it,” she says, turning away a little.
“Caitlyn, thank you.” Jinx reaches across and takes Caitlyn’s hand without thinking. “But... what’s the other condition?”
Caitlyn turns back to her. “I’ve agreed to leave these shores. For good. Once Vi is well.” She says stiffly. “My father still has land in Ionia. I can live comfortably there as long as I... I never return.”
Caitlyn gives her a clearly forced smile. “As I said, though, they were understanding. They will allow me to wait until Vi is awake so I can bid her farewell.”
Jinx’s stomach drops. She gains her freedom, and Caitlyn is exiled. “That can’t happen. You said this is for Vi. How do you think she’s going to feel if the woman she loves is sent away?”
“It’s for the best. All I am is pain to the Undercity and I.. I don’t think she can ever trust me again anyway” Caitlyn says biting her lip so hard she draws blood.
“She trusts me...” Jinx says earnestly.
Caitlyn shakes her head. “You are her sister. Her kin… I lost the right to her love, Jinx. I didn’t help you all and Vander down there in some desperate bid for the reward of her coming back to me. I don’t deserve that. This way, Zaun is pleased. She gets her sister... and I go where I can’t hurt anyone else here.”
Jinx sits quietly. “Caitlyn. Vi loves you. You know that. There has to be another option”.
Caitlyn shakes her head chuckling through tears “Their first offer was thirty lashes but it was quickly taken off of the table when Sevika offered to relieve the man speaking of his head. This was the only thing they would accept in lieu of violence”.
Jinx grimaces in disgust “Blood for blood. Just what we need… Caitlyn Vi needs you she”
Caitlyn sobs loudly choking. “I hit her Jinx!... after that fight in the vent chamber. I promised not to change. I kissed her, and then... I.I hit her and abandoned her. I knew her history! I knew how she had suffered! And I still became everything she ever feared I was and took away her hope. And all for the great crime of her putting herself in front of my gun to save that little girl from my hatred and madness.”
Caitlyn leans forward, curling up on herself, sobbing now. Jinx freezes. She has never been good at this sort of thing, and the mention of Caitlyn hitting Vi, as well as the reminder of the day she almost shot Isha, sends a whisper of that old rage through Jinx’s mind. But...
No... back to sleep... back to sleep...
Jinx stands slowly and walks gently around the bed. She drops to her knees next to Caitlyn and, like Tobias did with her, starts rubbing small circles on Caitlyn’s back.
“Hey... um... follow my breathing, okay? In for five, hold for five, out for five.”
Caitlyn goes stiff at her touch for a moment, then nods through her wracking sobs.
In: 1... 2... 3... 4... 5. Hold: 1... 2... 3... 4... 5. Out: 1... 2... 3... 4... 5.
They repeat the cycle several times as Caitlyn slowly masters herself. Jinx stands and quickly pours her some water from a pitcher and brings her the glass, standing back while Caitlyn sits up and smiles gratefully through red, puffy eyes.
“I... am so sorry. That was... unbecoming of me,” Caitlyn says stiffly. “Thank you for helping me. I imagine it wasn’t easy for you with our history”.
Jinx nods and sits back in her chair across from Caitlyn. “Maybe as easy as you willingly inviting me into your bedroom” she smiles ruefully. She looks down at Vi and squeezes her hand..
“She told me about your breakup.”
Caitlyn looks shocked for a moment, then laughs. “I suppose I should have known. I’m surprised you knew what I did and didn’t attack me the moment you saw me.”
“Oh, there was a moment I considered it,” Jinx shrugs, allowing a slight chuckle. “But, um... Vi told me something that stopped me.”
“Oh?”
Jinx nods. “She said that a person can only hold so much pain before it starts overflowing. And when it does, no matter how hard you try, that extra pain always lands on someone else. Hurts someone else. And that it doesn’t make it okay or right to hurt that other person; it just makes you human. And that if anyone should understand feeling so much pain you lose control... it should be me.”
Caitlyn looks at her, eyes watering, but nods as Jinx continues.
“I didn’t understand that as a kid, obviously. When Vi hit me in that street, I thought she hated me. And then when Silco told me she died, I had it in my mind that my sister hated me, left me, and I’d never see her again. But even when she came back to me—when you,” she reaches across and squeezes Caitlyn’s hands, “brought her back to me—I couldn’t process it. Even when she told me she’d been taken that night... seven years in Stillwater being beaten and God knows what else... all I could feel was her fist that night. All I could see was her eyes."
“And then Silco told me she was only here for you. That she didn’t care about me anymore, and it just consumed me. I was so convinced you were going to take her from me, that I was going to lose her again. I couldn’t take it. I was so angry and—”
“Afraid,” Caitlyn whispers.
Jinx looks at her and nods. “I was terrified. I know it doesn’t excuse anything, Caitlyn. I’d never say it does. Taking you, hurting you, what I did to your mom... I was so angry and afraid and alone, and I just needed to hurt. It was like fire eating me alive until I let it out, but when I did, I was just more alone than ever.
“And then I saw my sister in that uniform, and it just felt like I’d finally done it. I’d finally destroyed the last possible thing I had left worth living for. Sound familiar?” Jinx wipes away stinging tears and laughs sadly.
Caitlyn nods. “Yes... yes, it certainly does.”
Jinx sits quietly, the crackling of the fire and Vi’s breathing the only sounds around them.
Caitlyn leans back in her chair, and Jinx is struck by how exhausted she truly looks. Her eyes droop, and her head lolls. Caitlyn whispers, “I’d give anything to go back... to talk with you back then.”
Jinx smiles as she rises from her chair and grabs a blanket, gently tucking it around Caitlyn. “I’d probably have killed you,” she grins. Caitlyn smiles before her head droops, and she starts to snore gently.
Jinx exhales. She looks at Vi, sleeping soundly but still not conscious, and at Caitlyn’s exhausted form. Caitlyn, who had traded Jinx’s own freedom in exchange for her exile and never seeing Vi again...
“I believe we swore that Vi would wake to a world worth living in, Commander Kiramman. No more suffering,” Jinx says softly, smiling.
_______________________________________________________
Caitlyn wakes an hour or so later, a cool early winter breeze caressing her skin. She looks around… “Jinx?” and stands groggily, realizing she has a blanket around her that falls to the floor.
“she covered me up” she says softly… She looks down at Vi, blissfully unaware. Caitlyn leans over and kisses Vi’s forehead. “I won’t fail you again…”
Meanwhile far across the city, down in the darkness of the lanes cheers sound from the inside of The Last Drop. The representatives who attended the earlier council sit gathered around a large table toasting the inevitable exile of “The Commander” when the doors slam open with force and high raspy voice exclaims for all to hear-
“I’m hommmeeee! I need a word, councilors!”
#vi arcane#jinx arcane#caitlyn kiramman#caitvi#vi and jinx#arcane season 2 spoilers#arcane#fanfiction#non canon
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