#i live for the last drop's kids squad

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

Intercity Relations (An Arcane one-shot)

Description: Spending years studying Interstate relations at Piltover's academy, you made both allies and rivals during your studies. Unlucky for you, Cassandra Kiramman hated your guts ever since you first met. The woman ensured you'd never see Ixtal or Shumira but rather serve as an intercity negotiator between Zaun and Piltover.

Pairing: Vander x afab!reader, NSFW, the reader being born and raised in Piltover™ (so expect some cultural differences, mostly Vander teasing the reader very lovingly). Warnings: I did my best to go over all the typos, but some certainly made it through. The entire 'plot' just for the sake of convenience, age difference (reader being around 25, Vander should be pushing 40 - the math doesn't add up, fuck it), should be set one year after Vander became a dad™, so we aren't in any rush, vile language, mentions of violence and substance abuse. Also, unprotected sex - don't be silly, wrap your willy! The smut is very gentle tho, very loving and fluffy. Jayce and Ezreal being supportive golden retriever besties™. Subtle Jayce and Viktor shenanigans (will miss if you squint your eyes). A/N: I wanted to write something for Vander for so so so long, but never got the inspiration. Three years after the release of Arcane, I finally made my long-lasting dream come true. It's also my first smut after a long time, so I hope you won't find it clunky and lame. Enjoy reading! Music inspo: Mainly by Seven (Jung Kook), Love Again (stolen from Ezreal's playlist, performed by Baekhyun), Moonlight by Kali Uchis & The Weekend by BIBI & 88rising. Word count: 21K (and I fucking ooop-) Music playlist: ezreal's bedroom bangers

The politics and schemes of Piltover's creme of society never ceased to surprise you. That position should've been yours. Heimerdinger more or less confirmed it a week ago - you should've been the negotiator between Shurima and Piltover regarding business and foreseeable Noxian invasion. The Yordle quite literally said you were the 'best suited' for such negotiations, that he'd realized it soon after you started your studies. From the get-go, it was supposed to be you who'd end up with this position. Truth be told, however, the council members despised you for all they got. You weren't some high-class Nancy who'd flatter them with expensive gifts and false compliments - but you were fucking good at negotiating. You were the best of your class. It wasn't Kacey who could barely tie her own shoelaces or God forbid Damien, who had trouble remembering even the most basic negotiation principles. It was you.

Studying at the Academy was an honor, you were aware of that. Your family poured everything into securing your spot there, which you were endlessly grateful for. The Academy gave you a better chance at life than you'd otherwise get. Being a middle-class Piltoverian wasn't as bad, per se, but it wasn't a win either. Anyone in your family knew what poverty or starvation was, had money for medicine and nice clothes, quality food, and your flat just outside downtown wasn't bad either, but you didn't plan on taking after your mother's hat shop. Making hats wasn't a bad hobby, both you and your brother enjoyed creating new designs and spending time with momma, but it didn't fulfill you.

It could be around your 10th birthday when you announced you'd like to be a diplomat one day. Your mom and older brother scoffed at it - no way a small child would aim to be a diplomat, right? Most kids wanted to be princesses or singers, they didn't want to deal with interstate relations. But... The phase never went away. It was clear as day that you weren't aiming for anything else as your fifteenth birthday rolled around - you kept up good grades, went to debate classes, and traveled to Holdrum and Kumangra to take part in various debate competitions; you didn't win all of them, but your arguments always left the jurors in awe. When you were leaving high school, it was recommended for you to apply for the Academy's scholarship.

At that moment your mom finally cracked and said 'Fine, let's give it a shot'. The tender was as enjoyable as could be, there were other excellent kids after your spot at the Academy, after all. It took numerous tryouts and evaluations - the Academy first accounted for your past academic achievements, then came assessment interviews, then various intelligence tests, ending it all with a few rounds of debates. Some of those were nearly nerve-crushing. When you were informed of getting the scholarship, you were also informed about all the strict rules you'd have to obey - starting with a strict dress code, frequent one-on-one evaluations with the dean of your faculty, and ending with oddly specific dorm and library rules.

During the matriculation, you'd meet your best friend for the few following years - he came fashionably late (presumably sleeping in), barging into the dead-silent hall with his clothes hastily put on, his hair a fucking mess. As the boy stood on the stairway (looking like a deer in the headlights), the rector stuttered, watching the latecomer with matching intensity. Leaning over to the boy, you'd grab his sleeve and force him to sit next to you. Honestly, you liked Jayce ever since you first laid your eyes on him. If there was a definition of conventionally attractive, Jayce was it - hazel colored eyes, a bright smile full of straight teeth, clean-shaven face, a perfect haircut that was taken care of (gell and everything), and built like a fucking mountain with his 6'7 in height, as you'd learn later. His facial features were very pleasurable to look at. As you said - Jayce was the 'it'.

"I really thought this ceremony starts at 10 a.m... Two weeks from now." - The man mumbled to you, putting his bag down next to his seat. As he leaned closer to you over, the smell of some nice and surely very expensive cologne tingled in your nose. "They changed it last week on a whim, probably to avoid the matriculation overlapping with Progress Day. Wouldn't know about it if I wasn't moved into dorm already." "Makes enough sense. Did I miss something important?" "Something something, the great future, Piltover, something something, you are our new hope. Something along these lines." - You repeated, chuckling at yourself. Your brother always told you you were fucking horrendous at making friends, but the latecomer seemed to appreciate your sense of humor. Smirking at you, he licked his lips and offered you his palm under the table.

"Name's Jayce Talis." - The guy whispered, feeling as your palm slipped into his. His skin was nicely warm and so soft. A rich Piltie, you assumed. - "What's yours?" "Y/N Y/L/N." - Whispering back, you shook hands, still grinning at one another. - "Hi." "Oh, doesn't your family run a hat shop or something? Mrs. Kiramman loves that place to death, had to endure a fashion show of her and her daughter's hats tailored according to the latest fashion trends in Ixtal." - Jayce wondered, clearly memorizing the lane by heart.

"Yeah, I helped make these. My mom runs it. I was supposed to take over the shop when she'd feel like she couldn't do it anymore." - You explained swiftly, completely forgetting why you two were sitting in the hall. - "You know councilor Kiramman? The Cassandra Kiramman?" "Mhm." - The Jayce guy nodded, showing you dimples in his cheeks. He was getting hotter by the second. - "Also know the dean." "The dean?" - You squirmed, shooting him an amazed look. - "Are you like a child of some super-important politician?" "No. I just know how to make good childhood friends." "Geez. I had to fight for a way in." "My mom had been dead set on my future since day one. Surely, if Cait was a few years older, they'd even arrange our marriage." - Jayce scoffed, turning his eyes to the dean, a Yordle named Heimerdinger. - "How did you fight your way in? Gladiator style, cage match, blood, sand, and everything?" - He muttered, making you snicker as you pretended to listen to the speech. The matriculation had almost two hours of runtime, so you still had an hour and a half ahead of you.

"More of a streetfight style - who'd beat up the most kids to pulp won the scholarship." "Sounds way more exciting than just getting in because you have a rich friend." "I don't think that's the case." - With a smile, you bumped his rib with your elbow. - "Councilor Heimerdinger doesn't seem to be the type to just let anyone study here. We're Piltover's future, aren't you listening to his words? There's gotta something in that noggin' of yours." "I don't think you'd be the type to beat kids into pulps either. Actually, you look like someone I'd love to be friends with. Truthfully, I don't know anyone else inside the Academy, which terrifies me. I'm not a rich kid and I'm not good at talking to these rich assholes." "Didn't you say you're tight with the Kirammans?" "Caitlyn is anything but a rich asshole. She runs her mouth faster than her brain, bless her soul. Sometimes, she blows Mrs. Kiramman out of the water, leaving me speechless. If I were to talk to her mother like this, my mom would lock me up in a cellar until I'd apologize." "Your mom isn't like..." "No." - Jayce ended the discussion categorically. Since he didn't seem to like the topic, you hummed and nodded. "For your information, I think I'd be able to beat up that kid." - Pointing at a veiny, super-skinny ginger with glasses sitting two rows in front of you. - "... But I'm keener on logic and words, you got me there. Nonetheless, I'll take your words as a compliment, Talis. I'd like to... Be friends, I mean." "Lunch after?" - Jayce asked simply, pulling out a paper and a pen on his desk. First, you were concerned; was he about to take notes? Surely not, right? Then, he looked over at you with one of the most devilish grins you'd seen until that day. - "And tick-tack-toe now?" "God, you're already my best friend, Talis." - Without hesitation, you started to draw the playing board, sticking your tongue out of your mouth due to sheer concentration.

As promised, the two of you would set out to have lunch after the assembly, talking about everything and nothing. Talis was a great company - charming, funny, witty, and handsome. What he saw in you? No idea, but the two of you clicked right away. Even after years, you couldn't decipher what Jayce saw in you. The field of your research and studies were as different as could be, so you usually didn't dwell too much on such topics. Of course, you asked 'How are the studies going?' but it was never the centerpiece of your conversation. While you dealt with human relations, Jayce was a scientist, working with some miraculous blue stone (no idea what that was about). It only took a week to realize you'd found the best friend for the few following years. On the very second day, Talis showed you around his workshop, designating it as your hangout spot outside the faculty - it was a small maisonette with an enormous balcony and a very tiny bathroom. The upper floor was holding a bed and a couch. Since it also had a small fridge, you could just buy some beers and snacks for late-night study sessions and screw the dorm.

This friendship seemed fishy. People like Jayce Talis (attractive, genius, and charming) usually didn't seek company with the likes of you. Piltover was just a rat race, people climbing on the social ladders, striving for a better life. Jayce, on the other hand, didn't seem to be that guy. It seemed like he genuinely doesn't give a fuck. Also, Caitlyn Kiramman liked you, ensuring she'd like you even if you'd crawl out of the deepest part of the Undercity. Just as Jayce informed you, Cait's mouth ran much faster than her brain. You found this part of Kiramman endearing. Even though Talis sent you nothing but good vibes to you, it was hard to just accept this pure form of friendship. It took him around a week and a half to truly convince you he isn't hanging out with you for some insane, out-of-this-world reason. The guy simply liked being around you. That was also the first time Jayce sang and danced around you while studying in his condo - he was an awful singer.

Keeping the promise, you'd gather early the following Monday, ready to celebrate Progress Day. The festival was kicked off with yet another of Heimer's speeches (of which you and Talis appropriately made fun; nothing mean, just stupid jokes here and there). The rest of the day was in your hands - and dear God, you had a lot to wander through. Various attractions from all around the world, newest inventions, doubtful souvenirs, and snack stands... You simply loved the Progress Day. As you absentmindedly licked on your ice-creams, a boy stopped you. Neither of you could know that this particular man will soon be the last member of your party.

While also being very good-looking, the boy couldn't be more different from Jayce. He was around your age and based on his uniform, he was too a student at the Academy. His blonde hair was stylized perfectly, his blue eyes were piercing, you'd swear you hadn't seen clearer skin before and his facial features resembled those of a sculpture or a painting. He'd been considerably shorter than Jayce, but equally as handsome... Also, he was visibly distressed.

"Uh, hi you two. Hi. How you doin'?." - The boy greeted you, shaking your hand loosely as he fidgeted around, looking over his shoulders. You were pretty positive the stranger didn't even look you in the face before gripping your hand. "Hi?" - You asked, furrowing at him. He'd been shaking your hand for over a minute, still searching for something in the crowd... Or someone. - "Do you need something?" "I'm in a bit of trouble. Hi." - The boy jumped over to shake Jayce's hand frantically. - "Could you help me? It won't take long." "What can we do for you?" - Jayce asked. You've been both grinning by that point. The boy's behavior was funny. "I'm trying to run away from my blind date. She's been going on a tangent about how we 'belong together even in the heavens' and that I must be the guy her 'oracle saw in the tarot cards'."

"That sounds scary." - Jayce admitted, carefully twisting his palm from the stranger's grasp. The blonde boy, however, didn't seem to notice as he still looked around for his blind date. - "What do you say, Y/N? I'd be pretty scared if you pulled out a stunt like that." "I was just about to get to what my oracle said about you, Talis, but I mean... It sounds like the start of a horror story. I'm down to whatever." "Geez, you guys are the best and I mean that. My name's Ezreal, by the way."

When Ez piped down a bit and wasn't searching for the mysterious oracle girl, he was good company. As you walked through the main square and adjacent streets, he explained that he was studying history at the Academy and that you were in the same year. His parents were archeologists who traveled all over Runeterra so he was often left in Piltover under the care of his uncle, famous professor Lymere. That's how Ezreal got into the Academy anyway - quoting Ezreal, 'it definitely wasn't his intellectual prowess'. The guy was in awe when Jayce also invited Ezreal to his convo to share some beers while waiting for the fireworks to go off. Even though he seemed to be a social butterfly, Ezreal admitted people didn't stick around for long, often calling him 'annoying' or 'difficult to be around'; Jayce's invitation genuinely moved him. That's how you met your two best friends in the whole wide world.

The three of you were so different that you completed each other. You've been the most grounded in reality - studying political situations and people gave you a good insight into the world around you. If the two boys felt like arguing with someone, you were their person - you could go on for hours, debating like your life depended on it, beating them with facts grounded in reality.

Ezreal, on the other hand, was the dreamer and romantic. Boy, oh boy, his romantic endeavors were something - each week, you'd have to commiserate and listen to him obsessing over a different girl. You and Jayce would be the first to know all the details about his latest miserable breakup and future plans. He'd been prone to dramatize and exaggerate. Also, while being street-smart and intelligent (to a degree), Ezreal could come across as very naive and innocent. It was fun watching him not having a clue about his romantic interest's innuendos or hints, ignoring it all like the sweet summer child he was. You'd seen a lot of his romantic failures, if you had to be honest - the boy often invited you and Jayce for hangouts with his newest discovery (secretly hoping to set you up), and at times, you had to do your best not to start hysterically laughing right into his face. You loved Ezreal.

Jayce was the scientist of your group - he'd constantly lived in the world of wonder, progress, and inventions, constantly building towards a better future. His grind never stopped for anything. You and Ezreal would listen to his drunken rambles about how he'll change the world one day - you liked to believe Jayce. His dreams sounded nice. Despite Ezreal's best hopes, the two of you never hit it off - there was never a spark of romantic interest between you. Jayce often joked he didn't have time for romance, but if he would, he'd definitely ask you out - at that, you'd laugh and say 'Stop keeping your damn hopes up, this ain't happening, Talis'. Anytime you'd bump into something you didn't understand or felt emotionally vulnerable and wanted to share with someone, Jayce became your go-to person. His condo became the party's designed hangout spot, so you'd spend most of your Academy days there, watching over Piltover with dumb smiles.

All and all, you couldn't ask for better friends.

It was also this duo that expected your acceptance letter with batted breath alongside you. As usual, you'd barge into his condo. The two were talking before Ezreal raised his eyes to you frantically waving the letter around. Before you barged in, Ezreal was leaning over Jayce's shoulder (talking about Rachel... Again) and watched as the scientist connected wires in his latest contraption.

You and Jayce graduated earlier this summer, actually. Jayce, as you expected, finished his studies with a red diploma. You'd expect him to move out of Piltover, and work on his tech in collaboration with scientists from the other states - to your surprise, the man chose to work under the science faculty of the Academy. Ezreal, on the other hand, had to retake two classes - maths and geography of Runeterra... Despite all odds, this was a major success in your books. He'd been expecting to retake at least four. "It's here, bozos." - You announced, demanding their full attention. Ezreal straightened up, walking closer to you - Jayce just turned around in his chair and waited for you to start reading. "I'm sure it's Shurima. Like, 100% positive. Heimer talked about you enthusiastically last week, Y/N. I've heard it all." - Coach Ezreal mumbled supportively while walking behind you to massage your shoulders. As he patted your shoulder, you nodded at his words and let out a huge sigh before tearing the envelope outside. You had to be the next Piltoverian diplomat. It had to be you. It was always supposed to be you.

"Dear Ms. Y/N Y/L/N." - The letter started. - "It is a pleasure to welcome you on board our organization as the newest foreign service specialist. That's a good sign, no?" - You took a breath in, looking at both the boys; your fingers were trembling, breath shallow. "Jesus, don't stop in the middle of the letter!" - Ez exclaimed with a furrow. "Just go on." - Jayce mumbled, hanging on your lips. "Due to exceeding the number of current foreign specialists in the field, we are pleased to announce your new position as the official negotiator between the two states of Piltover and Zaun... Your accommodation in the state of Zaun will be... In case of unclarities, please contact..." - The blood in your veins froze as you read more and more. - "... Are you fucking kidding me?"

"Oh no..." - Ezreal sighed softly, his expression sagging as he watched tears forming in your eyes. You could barely breathe, your fingers shaking, your heart beating rapidly. You've never felt more betrayed in your life - this should've been your fucking moment to spread your wings and leave Piltover. You were supposed to explore the world just like you and Ezreal dreamed. You've been supposed to take part in negotiations between nations and... - "It's okay." "It's not okay!" - Both the boys' hearts broke upon seeing you break down, squealing at the top of your lungs. - "I've worked so fucking hard and everything..." - Jayce offered you an empty bottle so you could break it by throwing it on the ground, letting the anger out. It was better to clean up some mess than see you in ruins. - "... And that bitch, that old foul hag, that fucking snake!" - (Another bottle) - "I've always known she wouldn't fucking let me go. The moment I met her during my evaluations, I knew she hated me." - (Another bottle) - "To her bad fucking luck, Heimerdinger liked me, so she couldn't just get rid of me." - Your hand stretched out for another bottle, but Jayce stopped you. "I don't think she dislikes you..." - Talis approached you from behind, carefully massaging your shoulder. - "I just think something's going on in Zaun. The council would have someone who lived here their whole life and can trust as their diplomat, rather than someone who's not oriented in the problems and dynamics."

"Hey, I gotta repeat that geography class just because I looked at the professor funny. No one even wants to employ me." - Ezreal spoke slowly and softly, smiling at you. Grinning at his statement, you started to dry out your tears. "You gotta repeat it because the professor found out you're fooling around with his daughter." "Ehh... Maybe, but that's not the point." - Ezreal giggled, smoothing your shoulder. - "Listen, Y/N, you're the smartest and prettiest girl I know. You're able to inspire people, talk them through everything, and argue for hours when it comes down to it. And... The Undercity's not that bad, really. I know a few dudes selling fun stuff. I can introduce you to some of them to get you started?" "Ezreal..." - It was a high-pitched whine as you hugged him, letting out a long breath. His words made you emotional, moving you until you felt a fuzzy warmth spreading inside your chest.

"But... If I'm the prettiest girl you know, why didn't you ask me out yet?" - You joked, giggling. Being transferred to the Undercity wasn't all bad. It had its advantages - you'd stay close to your family and best friends. You didn't have to hope you'd bump into each other once a year, you could see them anytime you wanted. You'd be on hand in case your ma or bro needed help with the hat shop. You didn't have to leave your old life behind. "Because I respect you too much to let you fool around with someone like me." - The blonde sighed, hugging you back. Jayce was already on cleaning duty, brewing you all a cup of hot cocoa. It was exactly what you needed, in his expert opinion. As usual, Jayce was right. "... It's because you know I'd see right through your bullshit, right?" "... Yeah, you got me there, girl."

Two weeks later:

The Undercity was definitely not what you'd expect. First things first, it smelled horrible - when you talked to the lady who was introducing you to the issues at hand, she warned you about the possibility of wearing a mask. The Grey (fumes from factories located in the Underbelly) was making the air heavy. So far, so good; while the place reeked, it never got too bad. Secondly, the people didn't cut your head off when meeting you. The Trenchers were indifferent when it came to you; it was clear as day you weren't native to Zaun, but they didn't care much. The number of Enforcers traveling to Zaun was actually quite impressive. You've been worried you'd have to fight for your life, but just like Ezreal promised, Zaun wasn't that bad. Thirdly, your newly assigned condo and monthly payment were good. It gave you enough financial freedom to be fully self-sufficient, which felt simply wonderful. People from the agency acted respectfully towards you, putting weight on Jayce's words; maybe it was a last-minute decision to assign you to Zaun. Maybe, something was brewing on the horizon.

Your assigned informant from the agency told you to ask for Sheriff Grayson of the Piltover's Enforcers. If she knows who's the authority in Lanes, she could introduce you to them and get you accustomed. The problem with Zaun was simple - the city wanted independence from Piltover. If you wanted proof, all you had to do was to take the last riot into account. Your job was to secure a fool-proof plan that would benefit both parties while not degrading either. Well, with Piltover's attitude towards Zaun, that ask turned into a whole another pain in the ass, you realized fairly soon-ish.

Sheriff Grayson turned out to be a reasonable, charming woman with a lot of wisdom regarding both sides of the conflict; she referred to someone named 'Vander', the man who had a reputation and respect among the Zaunites. Ezreal wasn't aware of anyone named Vander, but he knew a black-market trader named Benzo. The blonde swore that if anyone knew Vander, it would be his dealer. "You look like you're acclimatizing fairly well." - The boy brought up as you locked the door to your condo, leaving to see Benzo. - "How is Zaun treating you?" "Hm... It's not as bad as I'd assume, no one tried stabbing me so far." - It was a bad joke, but Ez chuckled nonetheless. Walking down the stairs, your elbow mindlessly entwined with his as usual. You were happy Ezreal came to visit you in the Lanes. Throughout the last week, you've only talked to Sheriff Grayson and your sweet land lady who also had dementia.- "I'm just... Lonely. The two of you are living on the other side of Sun Canal. Getting over that damn bridge is hard, even for a diplomat. That said, the folk are more or less nice around here. They don't welcome me with arms wide open, but they're polite so far."

"Sounds like you'll get used to living here before you know it. You'd get along even with someone as demonic as old prof Lymere, on my honor." "Your uncle sounds like a tough nut. I appreciate the trust, though, young Mr. Lymere. Big preach." "After you, m'lady Y/L/N." - Ezreal exclaimed dramatically, holding the front door open for you; he even bowed, having you giggle under your breath.

Seeing Zaun through Ezreal's eyes was fascinating. The blonde definitely spent a lot of time here, knowing most of the small shops and dark alleys you wouldn't dare to go to alone. As you walked through the Lanes, he told you the history of it all; how Zaun came to be, what were its most historically significant locations, and a bit about their culture (Ezreal described it as 'pretty grim' and moved on). Benzo's pawn shop was located just off the main street - it wasn't in any grim alley where you wouldn't go in a million years or anything like that - it was a pretty nice place if you'd have to be honest. Sure, most of the goods were giving 'not acquired legally' vibes, but that wasn't your jurisdiction, so you didn't bother commenting on it. Benzo himself wasn't a bad person either, you liked him. After Ezreal introduced you, the atmosphere even shifted to a lighthearted meeting of two acquaintances. A small boy was slacking around the pawn shop, goggling his enormous brown eyes at you, but Benzo soon sent him away.

"At least, he'll have something to tell the other nuisances about." - Benzo sighed, clearly referring to other children growing up in the Lanes. - "Young Mr. Lymere. What do I owe the pleasure?" "I'm not here for business today, Benzo. My friend needs a bit of help." "Ah, really? And what can I do for the young lady? Anything particular she's looking for?" "Not something, but someone. She's not... Interested in buying, if you will." - Ezreal explained as he played with various trinkets lying around the shop. You didn't want to talk until you'd be introduced, so you simply stood around and watched the exchange. - "Y/N was sent here by the council." - In that instant, Benzo's demeanor switched to hostile for a bit. "Ah, wonderful." - The man gritted with a forced smile. - "What do these jerks need?" "I'm here to handle diplomatic communications between Piltover and Zaun. Seems like the council finally considered Zaun's declaration of independence, the one that happened a year ago. I'm here to ensure things go as smoothly as they can. I mean no harm."

Benzo watched you with a furrow, thinking about his answer. Ezreal leaned into the counter with a mischievous smile on his lips. - "Y/N is one of the best people I've met, Benzo, I can vouch for her if my word means anything to you." "Sorry if I came across as an old bastard, the folk often call me one." - The pawnshop laughed, offering you his palm. - "Name's Benzo, young lady. I'm the owner of this pawnshop, as Mr. Lymere surely informed you. Nice to know someone cares."

Yeah, only if you cared voluntarily, huh? You accepted the handshake nonetheless, offering him the sweetest smile you mustered. - "Y/N Y/L/N, call me Y/N. Nice to meet you, Benzo." "See, I told you, you'll be fine anywhere." - Ezreal smiled, nudging your side. "Who's the poor soul you're looking for?" "Sheriff Grayson referred me to someone going by 'Vander'. Said he's a geezer with one hell of a reputation around here. If there would be anyone these folk listen to, she said, it's Vander. Ever heard of him? I'd like to go over what the people could want so I could relay it to the council and start with the negotiations."

"If I know that old rascal? Ha!" - Benzo started laughing again. You liked him more and more by the minute. - "Everyone around here does. He runs a pub, you had to cross it on your way here. The Last Drop, does that ring any bells?" "Oh, yeah!" - Both you and Ezreal nodded in unison. The main pub in the largest square of the Lanes, a local district filled to the brim with former black market operations as Ezreal informed you just half an hour prior. - "Looked welcoming." "You bet, two lovebirds like you won't find a better place to make out anywhere around here." "Oh! That's not... You got it wrong!" - You exclaimed, falling into a fit of wholehearted laughter. This was the first time you laughed during your stay in Zaun - you laughed so hard your belly hurt, tears streaming down your face. "I know we've been over this, but this genuinely hurts my feelings, Y/N." - Ezreal muttered, fighting laughter himself. - "Anyway, thanks for the help, Benzo."

"You ever go there to have a cold one by any chance?" - You wondered, wiping the tears, calming down. Each time people assumed you and Ezreal were a thing, this was your reaction - breaking down, laughing so hard you cried. - "I've got the feeling I'll be spending a lot of time there." "I'll see you around, Y/N." "Can't wait!" - As the door closed behind you, Ezreal nudged your side again before letting you entwine your elbow with his. It helped you feel safe, especially in places such as this.

The Last Drop. Entering the pub, you got a feeling this is precisely the place where everything goes down. This was your first time being in a place such as this, so you looked around with batted breath while Ezreal led you to a table, nodding at a few people here and there. It genuinely felt like the lair of all the sin and alcohol. People played pool, some sulked around drinking, dancing in front of a small jukebox, playing cards or arm wrestling, laughing, and joking around. Each game was played for a bid, this pub was gamble-core galore. While you never even tried playing poker for money, Ezreal genuinely seemed to be acquainted with some of the Last Drop's patrons, nodding their way. These people felt different than those who you met until that moment... More alive, more fun, nicer. Well, until a skirmish broke out in front of the bar; a 6'8 man with chemtech augmentations punched another dude square in the face, resulting in both of them being dragged out by other patrons.

And that was when you first saw him.

He'd been talking with a woman sitting at the bar, snickering at her remark while absentmindedly polishing pints. The man, whoever he fucking was, looked like a sculpture. First, there was the smile - the mischievous spark in it, something vaguely boyish in his eyes as he looked at the woman, his watery-colored eyes narrowed ever so slightly. Secondly, you admired his facial structure. There was something so... Good-looking about his jaw and small, nicely shaped lips. You liked it when he smiled and immediately started imagining if you could make him laugh. Your heart skipped a beat upon that imagination. Thirdly, his hair and beard were visibly kept in good shape, but overgrown; it looked good on him, though, which was a look not a lot of men could pull off. And fucking lord, he was so well built. Broad shoulders, strong forearms, nicely shaped waist that begged to be hugged by your arms. Piltover didn't have men like similar to this kind, you were sure of that - he appeared to be gruff, but the mischievous smile told you otherwise. His posture and body screamed dominance, but his eyes whispered safety.

There was no doubt in your mind that the mysterious bartender was probably twice your age and that you definitely shouldn't be thirsting over him. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn't look away from him - the longer you watched him, the more deranged scenarios devoured your mind. Witch each piece of clothing disappearing, your mouth felt drier, the boiling hot blood traveling right between your thighs. It was impossible to look away from him. His presence ensured you wouldn't pay attention to anything else as you sat there, gravitating towards him like a moth to a lamp.

Each move he made was like cinema to you and each time his lips moved as he talked to the lady, butterflies started tingling in your belly. You wanted him to talk to you this way, was it a far cry to imagine you'd catch his attention? What were you thinking? He was a Trencher, you were a Piltie; two utterly different worlds. This guy probably wouldn't be interested in you, would he? Well, a girl can dream...

"Ezreal to Y/N. Are you okay?" - Ezreal bumped into your shoulder, making you finally look away from the bartender. Clearing your throat, trying not to appear as a flustered deer in the headlights, you looked at the spunky kid standing next to your table, seemingly getting your order. Her expression was unreadable and judging by her age and the bruise under her eye, she wasn't working here voluntarily. Who was she? "Sorry, I got lost in my thoughts. What's the best drink you have?" - You tried sounding at least a bit excited, but the kid just pointed to the menu and walked away. - "She seems friendly." "Probably got herself into some sort of trouble and got punished by helping that Vander guy, don't take it too personally." - Ezreal muttered, watching as you got up. - "Where are you going?" "I'll the bartender about the best drink… And about Vander." "And will you at least get a beer for me?" - Ez cried out as you disappeared into the crowd showing him thumbs, too busy staring at the mysterious man to look back at Ez.

If you weren’t mesmerized by the bartender, your shoulder wouldn’t bump into a very imposing woman who, at the time, played pool with her buddies. If you hadn’t bumped into her, she wouldn’t spill and break her pint on the ground. If her beer hadn’t been spilled, she wouldn’t turn around to take a good look at you. Upon the sound of shattering glass, the pub fell silent for a second, everyone turning their attention to the two of you. Before Ezreal got the time to get off his ass to get you outta there, the woman shoved you to the ground; so harshly that your head hit the wooden flooring. The bartender was forgotten as you grunted in pain, picking yourself off the ground; you didn’t have to bother, though. The woman gripped the hem of your jacket, making you tiptoe as she forcibly invaded your space - even though you didn’t consider yourself to be the smallest bean in the room, her physical build definitely overshone yours. She watched you like fucking prey, ready to kick or punch your teeth in.

“The fuck do you think you doin’, huh?” - The woman gritted through her teeth, biting down on a toothpick. - “You're not local, are you? Fucking Pilties, thinking you own everything 'round here, actin' like nothin' can happen to you. Guess what, princess.” “It was an accident. Put her down so we can talk this through. Sevika, c'mon.” - The friend she played against was trying to get you outta there. Even though it was a nice sentiment from the stranger, Sevika scoffed as her palms pulled you even closer.

Holy shit. Were you about to get your soul kicked out of you just two weeks after moving into Zaun? Had to be some sort of speed run record, you were positive.

“As if. Pilties gotta learn their lesson, just like we learned ours back on the bridge. Better if this pretty little thing learns it soon on.” “I’ll buy you another round, how 'bout that?” - You choked out with trouble, catching her palms in yours as you did your best to defuse the situation. Ezreal was standing just next to you now, ready to get into a fight if it would get to it. The boy, bless him, being a sweet summer child was still willing to fight for your dignity and honor. - “I’m sure we can talk about it.” “That’s all you, fucking Pilties - all talk and no walk. Zaun isn’t for people like you. You don’t belong here, sweetcheeks, you ruined our lives and now,…” - With each word, Sevika brought you closer, tightening the grip on your t-shirt. Just as you started to feel her breath on your cheeks, someone else stepped into the spectacle - someone's palm circled around her forearm, forcing her to put you back down.

It was him, the man you were mesmerized with. The bartender. The tender expression and feelings in his eyes were replaced with an unpleasant furrow directed towards Sevika. Now that he was closer, you realized he was even more handsome than you assumed. His head was cocked towards his shoulder, his brows knitted together, veins on his palm and forearm prominent due to the force he applied on Sevika's grip.

“'t’s enough.” - The man said quietly and slowly, the tension immediately defusing into thin air as your feet touched the ground. - “‘t was an accident, nothin’ more. Lass said she’ll buy you a new round, so I don’t see any problem 'ere. This is not how we welcome people 'round here.” "Old man, did you already forget..." - Sevika gasped for air, the muscles on her arm tensing as she got ready to pack a hefty punch to the man. The bartender, however, remained cool as a cucumber - simply stared at her, not flinching out of the way. "Of all the folk 'round, I'm the one who remembers everythin'. Also, you should remember it's unwise to threaten the guy who pours the drinks 'round here." "Let's get you some air, you." - Sevika's companion mutters, tugging her towards the door. - "Let's go for a walk, c'mon."

"Hey." - When Sevika was out of the door, the life in the pub started moving again - people got back to their gambling, arm wrestling, and talking, seemingly forgetting about anything even happening. The bartender was now turned to you, patting your shoulder gently while leading you towards the bar. - "You alrite?" "I'm whole, which is better than I anticipated. Sorry for causing trouble during your shift, though. Must be a lot as it is." "Huh?" - That smirk... His damned smirk made you forget about who you've been and what you were supposed to be doing in the Last Drop. - "Trouble? Sevika? Don't take it personally. I know that can be hard to do, but still. Local folk are usually much nicer."

"I've noticed." - You nodded, flushing simply because he was talking to you. Christ, you were down bad, almost starting to feel like Ezreal. - "Been living here for the past two weeks. You people are... Indifferent. But better than you being hostile." "Indifferent?" - The guy repeated after you, sending you a small, warm smile. - "That's a first. Never been called indifferent before. That a compliment?" "Depends on if you'd like to take it as such, I suppose." - His expression made you smile back at him, heart pounding in your chest. "Y'know what? I'll take it as one." - His chuckle almost sent you spiraling, making you smile at him dumbfoundedly. - "So, what can I do you for?"

"I would want a beer for that gentleman over there." - Pointing over at Ezreal, the boy just waved in your direction. - "And a drink for me." "Ordering 'a drink' doesn't narrow it enough I'm afraid, sweetheart." "What's your best drink, then?" - You wondered, enjoying the atmosphere and banter you had going on. "Do you like surprises?" "I can do without them." - You sighed in defeat. - "I can make an exception, though. One-time ocassoon, tho, don't take your chances." "Wouldn't dream of it."

While he mixed the drinks, you were keeping him company. Letting the banter flow, he started asking you why you moved to Zaun, whether you're suffering or enjoying yourself, and how you like the pub... Small talk every bartender makes to appease their customers, more or less. Even though it was this basic, you couldn't look away from him - where he moved, your eyes followed. When he smiled, you mimicked. Whenever he was closer than a foot, your heart skipped a beat. He smelled so nice, so earthy, like wood, jasmine and oranges.

"Oh, by the way." - You reminded yourself as he finished the drink, facing away from you to keep it as 'a surprise'. Uh-hm was all you got in response. - "I'm here to meet someone named Vander? Rings a bell?" "I'd assume so. What do ya need of that old bastard, sweetheart?" "I'm here to talk about possible future negotiations between Piltover and Zaun. The council wants to grant this region greater rights in exchange for peace." "You're a diplomat?" - The man stopped, bright pink cocktail umbrella hanging between his fingers. The atmosphere seemed to fade away while he processed the information, his smile disappearing.

"Listen, you have nothing to worry about. I'm here to make sure everything goes smoothly and help as much as I can. Vander isn't in any sort of danger. Sheriff Grayson referred to him as someone who'd be in a position to make demands for the Zaunites." "You're pretty young for a diplomat's what I meant to say, sweetheart. Don't take it the wrong way. One'd assume such a young thing would have other things on her mind." "You know him or not?" - You asked, amused by his explanation. "'s me. Vander, pleasure's on my side."

Oh shit. Oh fuck. So this was Vander. The former 'Hound of the Underground', as Grayson informed you. This beautiful man, this absolute spectacle... Was the guy you'd spend hours and hours with talking about political nonsense? This both excited and worried you. It was a curse in disguise. How were you supposed to even start talking to him? The moment you'd be alone, your mind would fill with very inappropriate fucking thoughts. "Oh, snap." "Haven't heard anything more Piltoverian in a long time. Well... How 'bout you?" "What about me?" "What's your name, sweetheart? Wouldn't mind calling you names, but when we get to business, I wouldn't wanna come across as immature... God forbid rude." - The way his tongue deliberately stretched 'business' between his lips made you swoon, gasping for air in hopes Vander wouldn't notice (he definitely noticed).

"Y/N, my name's Y/N Y/L/N. Pleasure's on my side." "Hey now, that's my line." - With a chuckle, Vander put down a cocktail in front of you. It was dark blue, frothy with crushed ice, decorated by a piece of orange and that pink cocktail umbrella you'd seen earlier. - "Look at the beauty." - Vander smiled, pushing it a bit closer. No idea what he was talking about (whether you or the cocktail), but your heart skipped a beat. Again. - "The best drink I can make. Hope it'll taste good. "How much?" "Hm?" - Vander asked, watching as you pulled out your wallet. "For the drinks. How much?" "Leave it, 's on the house." "No way, cowboy. How - much?" "Take it as compensation for Sevika's tantrum earlier, doll." - Fucking hell, this nickname almost gave you a heart attack. - "If you keep on flatterin' me, ya not payin' a single dime." "Unprofessional. Immature. Rude." - You gritted and passed a few Valors on the bar. - "Take the tip, at least." "'Aight. Can say no to that. If you'd want another drink or anythin' else, just wave at me. I'll be there in no time. Deal, sweetheart?" "What a smooth criminal you are, Vander. Thank you kindly." - As you took both drinks and walked back to your table, you couldn't see the smile freeze on Vander's face as you called him a 'smooth criminal'. Did you know? Had Greyson mentioned his impressive portfolio that still haunted him to that day? The Hound of the Underground. That's how people knew him, why they respected him.

"So, did we find the guy, or..." "Right there. The bartender. That's our guy." "Oh... Wow." - Ezreal leaned his elbow into the chair, eyeing Vander properly. - "Seems decent enough of a man. Expected someone older, though." "He's very nice and very polite." "Heh. Sure. Nice and polite." - Ezreal snickered, looking at you. You really had no fucking clue, did you? About how assertive you were, about how lovely the features of your face were. On the occasions, he and Jayce got you into a tight corner and you got flustered (which happened rarely) and you became a stuttering, annoyed mess, you were one of the most beautiful girls Ezreal had laid eyes on. And no, he wasn't saying it out of chivalry or because you two were best friends - it was because you were best that he pulled his head out of his ass for once and behaved the best he could. Back when you got the letter? Ezreal meant each word.

Collaborating with Vander actually wasn't as bad as you worried it'd be. With each meeting, you'd swoon harder and harder but managed to pull your head out of your ass to focus on the responsibilities at hand. In the beginning, Vander did his best to inform you about how things are and go in Zaun so you'd be accommodated better. Usually, he'd either invite you before he'd open the pub or reserve you a spot at the bar, where you'd talk about points that started coming up over time - like Enforcer oppression, increasing drug usage, and inadequate means for children to reach at least basic education. His points and observations were reasonable and understandable.

When he wouldn't be talking about business with you, as he settled on calling it, your mind would be consumed with him as he rambled about everything and nothing. Sometimes, you wouldn't even listen to him, you'd simply sip on your drink and let his deep voice intoxicate your brain. His smell, God almighty, his fucking smell. Over time, you've become mesmerized with the details. Vander throwing the tea towel over his broad shoulder, polishing the bar, the muscles on his back dancing in unison. How his fingers ruffled his hair. His smile when he greeted patrons and regulars. How he bit on his lower lip when he thought of a response. How he smoothed his beard when you said something out of pocket... So many details. You loved watching him like a stage play, especially when he served other guests. Did he know? He must've known - he'd send you a knowing grin each time your fingers brushed over the document you've been working on. Vander even went as far as figuring out which nickname you liked the most. Seeing as you shrugged and stuttered each time he'd call you a doll, it became his most used word.

Was he this attentive to all the other female guests? You couldn't tell. You liked watching him work, yes, but you weren't listening in on their conversation. Was it a formality, due to occupation, a game or did he mean it when he occasionally flirted with you? Some compliments Vander came up with left you speechless. He was the man to notice subtle wardrobe changes and make-up experimentations, mainly because you dressed differently than 90% of the local population. He'd be the first to comment on phrases 'so Piltoverian it hurt'. When it got late enough at the Last Drop and you'd be tipsy enough, Vander got daring enough to compliment your smile, saying it always 'lit up his entire day'. This man knew how to run his fucking mouth, sending you into spirals each time he'd whip out a compliment.

What he was hesitant about, however, was touching you - in moments when he stopped paying attention, his hand would slip on your shoulder blades as he watched you writing into the document. You never commented on it, you loved it when he touched you - it sent a heat wave through your entire body, making your breath hitch in your throat and push your thighs close together. As soon as he saw you looking at his palm, it would be gone from your back, leaving you craving more.

Benzo became one of your best friends in the Undercity, you had to admit. He had his oddities, but he'd welcome you inside his shop whenever you dropped for a visit. Ekko, the young boy you've met earlier, was introduced to you as his ward. The boy grew to adore you - you'd bring him sweets when you visited Piltover and tell him about how it looks and works up there. Benzo explained that his ward is very good with inventions, a scientist by heart - you'd promised Ekko you'd show him Jayce's workshop sometime in the future. Each time he'd be in Last Drop, whenever you came to have something to eat, a drink, or work with Vander, Benzo'd wave at you over the entire pub and save you a spot on the bar. Even though his business surely had little to nothing to do with legality, you grew fond of him.

That night, you've waited until Vander would close the pub. The place slowly depopulated while Vander flickered most of the lighting, drowning it in darkness. The only remaining light was above your head, shining right into the Blue Lagoon you'd ordered earlier. "And who'd busted your bubble?" - Vander asked quietly, watching as you played around with the cocktail umbrella. No matter what drink you ordered, he ensured you'd always have a cocktail umbrella stuck in. - "Even put some oranges in it, you've seemed to enjoy it the last time." "Just tired, I think, been finishing the document so I can turn it in. Grammar and formatting are a pain in the ass." "Sorry to hear that, doll." - The big guy huffed, sitting on the neighboring stool while patting your shoulder. Joining in, he poured himself a beer. Again, your breath hitched as you enjoyed every second of his body touching yours. - "What was wrong with the last draft? Thought it looked decent 'nough?" "Overlooked some paragraphs and spacing. Council would return it to me the moment they'd notice." "Well, 't least you tried." "Hm." - You sighed, putting your head on the bar.

"Hey, you." - Vander chuckled, his head cocked to the side as he tried keeping eye contact with you. - "Can you smile?" "Why would I do that? I'm suffering." "C'mon, pretty girl. Smile." - He'd whisper, gently caressing your back. The caress made you breathe in shakily, smiling as he asked. - "See? The nite is suddenly much better." "You're such a comedian. Why do I take the bait each time?" "Maybe you like smilin' at someone handsome as me?" - Vander opposed, making you giggle. He was the handsome man you'd met, that much was true.

It wasn't just about being attracted to him at this point, though. There was more than level-surface attraction and crackling chemistry - you liked him. Seriously liked him. As you lay away in your flat, you'd play with your blanket and think about how things could be in a perfect world - Vander would close the inn and come home shortly after midnight, kissing you on the forehead after he'd take off his jacket. That would most certainly wake you up, so you'd join him in the kitchen for a bit before leading him to bed. You usually had to stop yourself, forcefully, from letting the daydream carry on - you'd only imagine stripping him of his clothes when you got desperate enough, jerking off before sleep. It needed to be let out. Vander had to know how you felt about him. To either decline your offer or agree to try pushing the boundaries a bit. You've been tipsy enough to conclude that confrontation was a great fucking idea - you've had enough of watching other women goggling their eyes at him, pushing their breasts together as they'd order. It was bothering to look at his well-trained smile (the smile you've learned to love) as he answered them, winking their way. You liked the guy, you loved spending time with him... And he seemed to be interested as well. To what degree, you had no idea about it, but he surely liked having you around.

"Or maybe..." - It took all of your courage to turn at him, putting your palm on his upper thigh. Vander's fingers stopped caressing the glass, squinted his eyes, and tried deciphering what you've been up to. Your touch felt wonderful and, for the love of God, you smelled so good. "What has gotten into you, doll, hm?" - The man whispered, gently moving strands of your hair out of your face, smiling warmly. Your eyes were open wide, filled with little sparkles as you stared at his face. "I want to kiss you, Vander." - With those words, his motions stopped altogether.

Of course, he thought about kissing you. Multiple times - each time you were sitting at the bar and sent him a smile, to be precise. It would be easy to simply lean over, smooth your cheek, and steal all your thunder. In fact, you couldn't have an idea what you were doing to him, intoxicating his brain with the sweetest scenarios and possibilities. It would be the easiest way of shutting you up whenever Vander got you flustered; he enjoyed when you turned into a stuttering, annoyed cute little mess, though. It was endearing watching you try to get yourself off the sinking boat while digging yourself a deep grave. Vander also thought about much more than just kissing you - he'd seen you naked so many times (inside his head), he'd swear he'd recognize your body amongst other women, even with the lights off. Your strange turns of phrases often made his tummy tingle with butterflies as he laughed, explaining to you that you sounded too Piltoverian. Your expression and widened eyes goggling at him made him feel warm and fuzzy on the inside... You've managed to make the Hound of the Underground soften. Fucking God almighty, your outfits made Vander's heart flutter - it was a mix of everything; sometimes you'd be wearing a fluffy white blouse paired with a brown tar-tar vest and derby trousers, other times you'd appear in a bright-colored dress and paired with, again, a tight vest. Even though you always looked out of place, Vander loved that about you. His eyes never searched for you too long, not to mention you looked like an absolute goddess. The derby trousers did nothing for your buttcheeks. When serving, he'd have to keep himself away from you so he wouldn't slap them. How would you sound if he'd made you squeak? Or if you'd be a whining, meowling mess as he'd hover over you, losing his senses to you? How would his name sound when screamed at the top of your lungs?

No matter how hard Vander had it for you (literally and figuratively), there wasn't a world when it would work for both of you. He'd been a Zaunite gangster back in the day, recently reformed into a full-time father and pub owner. Ah, when talking about fatherhood - you didn't even know he's looking after four fucking kids. You didn't have a clue about Vi, Powder, Mylo and Claggor. How could you? Such a pretty young thing didn't deserve a life like this - bound to one place without the alternative to leave. Vander couldn't leave Zaun. But you could. Each time Vander realized how intelligent you truly were, it would knock the air outta his lungs - if there was anyone with a bright future, it got to be you. You had the entire Runeterra laying at your feed, ready for you to explore every nook and cranny. You had places to be, people to meet, work to do... No way he'd let you throw that away for someone like himself. Compared to you, he'd been significantly older, slower and already set in his tracks - you had a whole life ahead of you.

One kiss couldn't ruin anything, could it? You've been tipsy, ogling each other for the entire night, saying shit you shouldn't really say. He wasn't afraid of rejection - Vander was perceptive enough to recognize bedroom eyes on a woman from a mile away. He was afraid of rejecting you. Now that he knew you, it was impossible to imagine Last Drop without having you around. Benzo was fond of you, Ekko loved you (Benzo admitted that the little boy might be crushing on you a teeny-tiny bit) and most of the locals started treating you as an equal. You... You couldn't disappear out of his life.

He'd hesitated for too long. The grip on his thigh started to weaken as you pulled away, flustered beyond any reason - you were turning away, awkwardly coughing into your sleeve. Everything inside his body froze before he could stop it, pushing your palm back where it was - on his thigh, squeezing it gently. As you turned to face him, he leaped forward, kissing you. It made your head spin, that's how good of a kiss it was. Things you hadn't enough courage to admit out loud, all the desire and tension resulted in teeth clattering, tongues dancing, and lips crashing again... And again... And again. You've kissed like nothing else mattered, slipping off the stools - his knee parted your legs while his palms roamed his sides and lower back, spreading them further apart as he pressed you onto the bar, palms sliding along your curved back. If Vander hadn't the willpower to snap out, you'd likely end up bent over the pool table or the tappers. Thankfully, when he felt your fingers tugging his shirt out of his pants, he stepped away, catching your palm in his.

"I... 'm sorry, doll, I shouldn't have done that, I dunno what's gotten into me." - Vander whispered apologetically, awkwardly picking up the stool you'd knocked to the ground during the kiss. "There's nothing to be sorry about, I asked for it." "Doll, there's everythin' to be sorry 'bout." "What do you mean?" - As he registered the vulnerability in your voice, his eyes snapped to you, still leaning your back into the bar. God, you looked amazing with your lips swollen from the kiss. There wasn't time to admire, you, however -this was a fine line Vander found himself on. One wrong word and you could slip past his fingers, never to be seen again.

"You... You shouldn't even be here this late, sweetheart." "Are you trying to say you don't want me here? That none of this is... Real? Was it a game for you?" - The moment you started doubting this, Vander's finger snapped at you as he shook his head. "That's not what I'm sayin'. You should be in your bed, fallin' asleep next to someone your age, maybe that blonde boy'f yours. Seems to have the hots for you, poor kid. Instead, you're here, spendin' your time with someone like me." "Someone like you?" "I could be your father, Y/N." - Vander hissed. Wow. You couldn't recall the last time he'd use your first name - he had to be worked up real bad. "You'd have to start really early, then." - You chuckled, continuing before he caught another wind. - "You're getting yourself too worked up over nothing. It's... Just a kiss, nothing more - I'll still be your regular. I loved it." - Even though the last sentence was a mere whisper, it made Vander straighten up. The explosion of a guttural warmth inside his chest was insane, almost setting him on fire. Even though it wasn't any concrete confession, one step would lead to another...

"'t felt good tonite, will feel like shit tomorrow morning, doll, you'll see." - Sighing, Vander stepped closer to you, leaning into the bar while taking one of your palms to his, playing with your fingers. - "Whatcha thinkin', doll? A Piltie like you with a Tencher like me? C'mon now, what good would that bring?" - Taking a breath, Vander pushed a stand of your hand behind your ear. "How about you let me decide what I'd like to do and how I feel about kissing you? That okay?" - Sighing, you leaned your forehead into his shoulder and gently hugged his waist with your palms. - "I'll let you know the next time I drop by."

"Okay, lemme say it differently - what would such a pretty little pet like you even do with an old geezer like me? You're not just someone, you've even studied at the Academy - the Undercity ain't somethin' you should be aimin' for, Y/N. When I look at you, I see the future. And a damn bright one at that." - His fingers were ghosting along your jaw, his heart thumping steadily. You knew the tone and look in his eyes - like a kid staring at a toy they wouldn't be able to get in a million years. - "And when you change the world, me and Benzo'll tell everyone about ya - 'Y/N? That's our girl, one of the Zaunites; the one who'd been kind enough to kiss an old fool like me'." "To which I'd say I wished you'd kiss me ever since I've met. You're just... Like a fire and I'm a moth, constantly gravitating towards you. When you're not around, it's like my breathing gets heavier, I'm worrying about where you are, what you're doing, and if you're okay... And when I see you, this warmth spreads through my chest. There's not a day when I wouldn't wanna see you and let you poke at my accent or turns of phrases. Vander, I... I... I should go." - With that, you pushed Vander off and picked up your belongings, putting a few Valors on the bars as you usually did. If you continue running your mouth, you'll start unveiling things you did your best to keep hidden away from Vander. For example, that you loved him.

If you weren't so nervous, you wouldn't miss the mesmerized look Vander gave you, breathlessly staring at you. He knew what you've been trying to say - he was on the same boat. He was just a man in his best years trying to get by, helping his community and people. It was so fucking hard to believe a girl like you liked him for what he was. If you'd say it out loud, he'd believe you. He'd even say it back. Three words - such a short phrase would become his favorite. If you had enough courage to say it, he'd repeat it over and over. Instead, he watched as you packed your things, holding everything together with a last-ditch effort. - "If I keep on going, Vander, I'd probably say things neither of us want to hear. If a kiss made the situation this messy, we wouldn't withstand what's on my mind. I... I'll see you around, I promise."

God. You were wrong. So fucking wrong. You're almost out of the door when you hear Vander calling out your name, making you turn around. He'd been mustering up the strength to say it, but before he could... The courage dissipated as you smiled at him. - "Hm?" The way he stared at you dried your mouth and your knees weakened. If you've ever seen bedroom eyes on anyone, this was it. His eyes darkened, his breath short as he tried to come up with something... Anything. Lust was a double-edged sword, that much you realized. Vander would get on his knees to hear whatever stupid shit you had on your mind if there was a slight possibility you felt the same - if that'd be the case, you'd end up bent over the bar. Drunk fucking, that would be the worst thing you could do. If you'd get down to it, you wanted Vander to be sober. You wanted to be sure it was just him touching you, whispering sweet nothings, moaning at appropriate times; not alcohol. You didn't want it to be remorse either. The moment would be right if Vander hadn't started overthinking and overcomplicating shit. "I'll go now, Vander. Remember... I won't even regret kissing you."

You didn't have the balls to go for a beer for the two following weeks. You avoided The Last Drop as if it were a plague epicenter, not even looking its way when you walked through the Lanes. Benzo caught up on the shift, asking if everything was alright. Since Vander seemingly didn't bother with informing Benzo about what happened, you hadn't either; when you popped by his pawn ship to drop off some sweets for Ekko, Benzo even got the audacity to tell you that: 'Vander misses you, asks for you every nite, girl. Whatever the old bastard had done can't be that bad, can it?' Did Vander even do anything wrong? He hadn't outright rejected you, had he? It almost seemed he'd admit there's more to it than just a kiss. Emotions, perhaps? Well, you've been on a streak of childish behavior and you planned to continue.

No matter how long you worked during the night, Vander plagued your mind. You've missed him, the way he smiled at you, gently caressed you with his looks, and how delicate his tone was when he spoke with you. It was strange to work in silence since you've gotten used to the vivacity of the Last Drop. Your flat suddenly felt like a prison - too small, too dark, and too quiet. Even when Ezreal came over to visit you and sleepover, it didn't brighten up the mood. The boy wasn't stupid when it came to crushes and lovesickness - as soon as he heard you sigh, he'd been onto your ass, trying to lure details outta you. It wasn't a bad idea, actually - you needed your friends to help you solve the conundrum of 'Vander'.

"And... You left after that?" - Ezreal asked, genuinely shocked. You've called for an emergency meeting at Jayce's - all three of you were splattered all over Jayce's sofa, sipping on a beer, eating take-out. "What else was I supposed to do?" "So, you've fallen in love with this amazing Trencher..." - Jayce mumbled through the noodles in his mouth, sitting up. - "And he kissed you like anyone before?" "Yeah, it was... Wow. We've knocked over a few stools, even, but we were both drunk." - You reminded, sighing. "Have you seen how he looks at you?" - Ezreal asked you, having you cock your head towards him dumbfoundedly. - "Every time we're there for a drink, the guy doesn't look at anyone but you. Like there's no other person in the pub, just you."

"Have you heard a word from what I've told you?" "You ran away after he pointed out a few excellent points instead of telling him what's on your mind... And then left him conscience-stricken for two weeks. Without dropping by to tell him you're just confused." - Jayce reiterated. It wasn't like that, was it? You didn't run away without telling - Vander surely knew. Why didn't he comment or answer it in any way? It wasn't just your fault - there were two to blame. "I'm... I wasn't confused." "Don't take this personally, but we've never seen you fall in love with anyone. You fooled around at the Academy - who didn't? But it looks like when it comes to real feelings... You're not too good at conveying them. Lemme guess - you started talking, said something incredibly cheesy, and then rambled, didn't you?" - Ezreal asked, smoothing your shoulder. How did he know? God, these guys knew you better than you could ever know yourself. - "In response, Vander started rambling about the future - about how it couldn't be good for you and stuff. Even though it might've come across as dismissive, Y/N, that man thought about a future by your side. Also, we can't see every thought that goes inside that brain of yours, so it can be confusing to navigate at times. You love him, then? And want to fu..." - Ezreal nibbled on, making you unnerved and flustered. Was he just about to ask you if you wanted to fuck Vander? That casually, like it's nothing? "Yes, Ezreal, yes! I can't think of anything but him, I can't eat, can't sleep..." - You exclaimed, standing up to take a long breath. The duo gave you a run for your money, you had to admit. - "All I want is him. But I don't know how to do it or what to say. That's why we're here."

"Then I don't see a problem here. Do you, Ezreal?" "None, Jayce." "We're on the same page, then." - Jayce smiled, clinking his bottle to Ezreal's before taking a good swing. - "God, these noodles are so good." "If you two don't talk, I swear on Heimerdinger's inventions..." "Vander, from what I've gathered, is an upfront, honest guy..." - Jayce started, having Ezreal nod in confirmation. "... Then it's obvious what you have to do. Just tell him. Which part? I don't know. Just go for it." "That's the best piece of advice you got for me - 'just tell him'? Isn't that what I attempted last time?" "Oh, Y/N, girl." - Ezreal howled, pushing you back to the sofa between Jayce and him, and handing you back your beer. - "This time, you're gonna go straight to the point. No cheesiness, no romance - it'll be a love confession, but you see what I mean, right? Let me phrase it delicately... You'll tell him all about those dirty scenarios inside your head. We guys love hearing stuff like that, it boosts our confidence." "For once, I second everything Ezreal said. You got this, Y/N, look at yourself. Ezreal is mostly right when sensing crushes - if he says Vander's got it bad for you, I'd trust him."

Ezreal didn't leave you on your own, God bless this sweet summer child - he'd made sure you'd really go talking to Vander, even helped you with picking out the outfit. He'd put together something insanely simple, yet elegant - a white lacey dress, a suiting black vest with golden detailing to match your Wellington boots. When enriched with adequate, very subtle golden accessories, and the right hairstyle... "God, Ezreal. When did you plan on letting me know you're a fashionista?" - You wondered, turning around to see every inch of you. You had these pieces for years and never thought enough to piece them together. Your fashion sense wasn't bad, per se, but faded in comparison to Ezreal's. "I've been making fashion statements for some time now, one'd assume you noticed since we hang out all the time." - The boy muttered, sitting on your bed. "I look so good." - Still checking yourself out, you leaned towards the mirror to look at how the golden necklace sits on your neck. "You always did. I just pushed it a step further, that's all." - Making you stand up, Ezreal caught your shoulders and looked you in the eyes. - "What's the plan? Run it by me one last time."

"I'll walk in the Last Drop, looking like a million Valors." "Duh." "Tell Vander I'd like to talk to him... Alone." "Yeah?" "And when we're alone, I'll tell him what I wanna do to him... Which will be so incredibly disgraceful and awkward..." "It'll be disgraceful and awkward if you don't pull yourself together. Be confident, smirk, touch him, smooth his shoulder, bite your lip, wiggle your eyebrows - just don't turn into a flustered mess. Imagine you're in a debating competition if that helps. Show him how serious you are, don't leave a single question unanswered." - Coach Ezreal instructed you, having you nod with fiery passion. While not known for his intelligence prowess, Ezreal was a great leader and an amazing empath. He'd known you much better than you knew yourself, helping you cross bridges you'd deemed impossible. Now, he was doing it again.

"Alright, seems to me you're in the right zone and everything. My job here is done." - The boy grinned, fixing a few strands of hair behind your ear. - "I gotta catch a date for myself." "Who's the poor soul? Do I know 'em?" - You wondered, the Undercity accent rubbing its way in. No wonder, you've been living in Zaun for at least three months by that point. Ezreal didn't point it out, just grinned while picking up his stuff lying around. "Linda from the study department." "Wow!" - You exclaimed, locking your flat. You'd walk Ez out on your way to the Last Drop. - "Why do you sound so down, then? Weren't you pinning against Linda for months?" "Eh... I mean, yeah... The problem is I asked her out at a party, super-drunk, and everything. Don't even remember what I fooled her into believing. Remember that faculty party you didn't come with me because you were too busy ogling at Vander?" "Hey, I'm not taking accountability for that. Jayce was your babysitter for the night." "He, for one, was busy ogling some guy from Heimer's office and didn't make it in time to inform Linda it's not a great idea." - Ezreal grinned, watching as you gasped for air. Ogling a guy from Heimer's office? Damn.

"How come I hadn't heard about this 'till now?" "You were too busy putting that draft together. Even sobbed about it when I slept over last week. Didn't think telling you about Jayce's romantic endeavors would help much." "And... Who's the guy? Do we know him? What's Jayce's type?" - Eyebrows wiggling, you pressed on, making Ezreal chuckle. "No, don't know him, I saw him at the party for the first time. How'd I describe him... Frail and foreign for sure. Don't take it wrong, he's... Strangely handsome, that one. Think it's the accent doing it for our poor old Jayce." "Fuck me." - You snorted, opening the front door. - "Our science bro has it down bad for other scientists. Twist of the century." "I liked Viktor." - Ez mumbled while leading you towards the main parade. - "He's snarky and most likely a genius. Zaunite by heart, strangely perceptive, weirdly confident in the best way... You'd love him." "You think Jayce would ask him on his own?" "Eh, no, not really. I'll start working on setting them up soon." "What would we do without our romance and fashion guru, Mr. Lymere?" - Looking him in the eyes, you smiled while Ezreal caught your hands in his, nodding at you.

"Now, forget all about Talis and his non-existent game... I mean, the guy can flirt, that's for sure, but..." "Not the point, Ez." "Right." - Ezreal nodded some more, clearing his throat. - "When you come tomorrow evening for the play, all I'm going to hear about is how this hunky, handsome guy blew your back out, 'kay?" "Ez!" - It was a squeal as you started to laugh, stepping aside, breaking the moment. - "You gotta stop saying that. I'm not good with... Saying this stuff out loud, you know that." "Good luck, lovely." - The boy leaned in, kissed your cheek, and sent you one of his typical smiles before turning on his heels and leaving. God, you loved Ezreal.

As Coach Ezreal coaxed you into doing, you did your best to walk into the Last Drop like a million Valors (not to mention the intense break you took leaned into the pub's wall, trying to get your shit together). As per usual, the place was lively - people haggling around, playing cards, jukebox playing a nice tune while they drank. Since it was the weekend, Vander wasn't behind the bar alone; Vera and Jakob were his backup for the night. You'd admired how Vander and his part-timers work in unison. Their responsibilities were strictly given, so each of them had their own little universe to keep in check - Vander dealt with the orders, Vera mixed cocktails and prepared snacks and Jakob ensured there were always enough dishes. "Look who we got here! Hey, Y/N!" - Benzo's voice exclaimed so loudly it was heard all over the pub - some locals acknowledged you with a nod or wave, not staring for too long. Benzo, however, was seemingly happy to have his drinking buddy back in business. As you made your way towards the bar, you'd let the guy hug you clumsily before stepping aside.

The bartender hadn't said a word to acknowledge your presence. Hadn't even looked your way, it seemed. Was he hurt, just like Ezreal expected? Was he pissed to see you walk in so casually? Why didn't he reach out, then? You'd bet your money that he knew where you lived - one could never keep a secret while living in the Lanes. It took all your willpower to snap your eyes into Vander's face, waiting for him to do anything, say something so you'd know what you're on. Funnily enough, Vander didn't plan on making it easier for you. At first, you were worried that he'd truly become indifferent. Devil's always in the detail, you reminded yourself, searching for signs of what's going on inside his head. When you started noticing, your heart fluttered in your chest, hot blood rushed into your cheeks. His eyes lingered on your lips, the gulp he'd desperately tried to suppress, the grip tightening around the glasses he polished. He'd held onto them to forcefully his knuckles turned white.

"It's so good to see you, both of you." - With a smile, you turned towards the bar. Vander automatically pulled out your favorite coater (he'd hide it away from other guests, this one was yours specifically), leaning his hands into the desk like a let-down parent. "What can I get you?" - His mumble was quiet, devoid of any emotion. No nicknames, no jokes, no flirting, huh? He'd really have to be pissed off, then. "I'm here on business, actually." - Sending him a sweet smile didn't help either? Damn. - "Could I steal you for a minute or two? Won't be keeping you long and then I'm out of your hair, promise." "Somethin' goin' down up there?" - Benzo asked with worries in his tone. "Nothing I can't take off, Benzo. Just need Vander's expert opinion, that's all. He'll be back before you know it. Shall we?" - With a clap of hands, you sent Vander yet another warm smile. The bartender raised his eyebrows, sighed, and put his tea towel on the bar. Picking up his sandwich, he'd informed Vera about being gone for fifteen minutes (for his break) at tops before vaguely gesturing for you to follow him. Fifteen minutes was all you got, huh? Fuck.

You'd expect him to lead you to his office on the upper floor - Vander didn't deem you worthy enough to sit on his plushy chairs, because he'd open the back pantry for you, opting you to sit on one of the barrels. "Well, start talkin'. We ain't have the whole evenin' - is it about the readin' or somethin'?" - Without an ounce of care, he'd peeled the napkin off his sandwich, chewing on it. "How... Have you been?" "How have I... Thought you wanna talk business, young lady." - Vander reiterated mockingly, looking away from you; his eyes had been stuck on your lacy dress, drowning in the sight of your breasts pushed together to form a delightful cleavage - it wasn't showing too much, but it definitely showed more than usual. Your breasts looked so... He'd been this close to reaching towards you, undoing the vest so he could squeeze them and nuzzle his head to your chest. Fuck, you looked so absurdly alluring and tantalizing Vander couldn't stand to look at you. He was mad at you just an hour ago - he couldn't give in that easily. He'd spent the last two weeks being absolutely miserable - your seat remained empty night after night, your coater hidden behind the tappers. Even though he'd known you weren't coming, he'd always ushered customers from sitting on your stool - his mind often going back to your carefree smile, your elbow supporting your head as you watched every move Vander made, reminding him of the cute expression on your face. Even the kids caught onto his mood swings - Vi laid into him regarding what, to quote her, 'Fucking busted his bubble?'

It took you a lot of courage to pick yourself off the barrel, stepping closer to him. Did you look seductive? You didn't feel like it at fucking all. Vander freezing like a deer in the headlights hinted that you were on the right track.

"I'm here to finish the conversation we started last week." "Not this again..." - Vander countered and started picking himself up to leave - it was a surprise when you pushed him back on his ass, keeping one hand on his shoulder, soothing his jaw with your other one. "I don't think I made myself clear enough." "Oh, trust me, darlin', you've said plenty..." "Yeah? Then you're gonna listen to it all again, I guess. Poor you." - The sandwich was long forgotten, lying on one of the shelves as you cocked your head to the side, sending Vander the calmest, sweetest smile you could muster. Holy shit, you realized, Ezreal's advice worked. Vander couldn't look away from you as you leaned your knee between his, planting your thumb on his lower lip to enthuse you'd love to kiss him again. Feeling the softness of his mouth made you lick your lips.

"I hoped you'd be smarter than this, sweetheart." - Vander whispered, finally giving in to your touch - you could feel his fingers creeping up your calves, gently lifting your skirt up, traveling up to your thighs. - "I ain't good news for a young thing like you. You'll get bored soon 'nough, leavin' me behind. Won't even remember me a few years from now... Thought you not showin' up was a good sign." "Good sign?" "That you'd understood what I tried to say and decided it would be best not to fool around with someone like me." "I thought about this a lot over the last week - about you, me, and what I tried to do. I was drunk, we both were, and words didn't come across as I'd like 'em to." - Lifting his chin up, you started playing with his hair. - "No matter how much you hate hearing this, I'm really into you. I think I'm in love with you."

Everything stopped for a second - his grip on your thighs tightened as he brought you closer, staring at you with pure adoration. His expression didn't reflect all the love and happiness behind his eyes, but the fireworks going off told you more than you needed to know. He'd felt the same, to one degree or another. There wasn't any rush to say it back - when he opened his mouth to talk, your finger stopped him as you pressed it there. Cheekily, Vander planted a kiss on it, waiting for what you wanted to say. Rest assured, your words almost gave him a heart attack.

"Now - stop fucking telling me how I'll feel or what I'll do in a few years. I want to be in the now with you and you're making it pretty fucking difficult. How about you just forget about everything for one night and show me how you feel about me? I don't care if this isn't a good long-term decision or whatever you're about to say - you're what I want most now. And even if I'd become a real diplomat one day... Vander, we're smart. We can figure it out. Stay in the moment, here with me." - Stepping in, you could feel your thighs bump into his abdomen - still holding his head in your palm, you were standing directly above him. Fucking hell, he was even more handsome up close. You loved every small wrinkle and crevice of his skin, an almost invisible scar on his lower lip, prominent cheekbones, and hair so soft you wanted to simply tug on it. His fingers on your thighs started to move up and down, caressing your smooth skin - even that alone was enough to make you meowl softly.

"So, therefore, I propose we drop the act and focus on letting whatever this is blossom. Fuck, you have no idea about how many times I'd imagined kissing you, Vander, how I melt each time you smile or give me a cheesy compliment. No other man in my life makes my hands shake just by standing beside me. You have no idea how many times I've dreamt you'd be in my bed, taking my clothes off and eating me out... And all the things I'd like to do to you, shit." - You continued mumbling erratically, not really paying attention to what was leaving your mouth - Vander seemed mesmerized either way as he bent your knees carefully, lifting you up to sit his lap (given he was sitting on a barrel, that shit must've been uncomfortable as fuck). Hearing you curse for the first time was an out-of-world experience for him, especially when accompanied by quiet hisses and subtle moans. Every word leaving your lips was dipped in honey, making him gasp for air helplessly - if he'd like to, he was sure you'd be willing to undress right there and then. Your knees fit around his waist as if he was made for you, his hardening dick pressing onto your thigh the moment you wiggled a bit. Feeling him made you gulp and lick your lips as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, playing with his hair.

"I don't know what you're so scared of? I'm here, you're here... Let's just... See what happens." "Ain't this an abuse of power, miss diplomat?" - He whispered, making you giggle. "Would be if you didn't want to fuck me as desperately as I wanna fuck you." - You whispered, stealing a quick peck off his lips. This broke the dam, causing all the feelings and emotions to flood out. "You - have - no - idea - what - ya - doin' - to - me - doll." - After each word, Vander stole a kiss from your lips, his palms lifting your ass, making you rock on his waist, grinding on his dick with a raisin intensity. Each movement made you moan breathily, sending chills down your spine. and started grinding your groin against his, earning a breathy moan from you. - "Seein' you talk to men makes my blood boil 'cause I want to be the only one you give that pretty smile to. I wanna be the one wakin' up next to you, caressin' your skin, help you with showerin' your back, and see all the newest clothes and underwear you bring home... Mainly the latter, 'f course. I just... I just wanna be your man." "Then show me, baby." - You whispered quietly, pulling him for a proper kiss, grinding against his lap in a steady rhythm. Warmth was spreading through your tummy, making it tighten each time your clit grazed the fabric of his trousers.

"I'd love nothin' else, doll..." - The man hummed, holding your chin between his fingers. Dear lord almighty, you looked more sensual than any woman he'd met before you - you seemed to be intoxicated from his kisses and words, your face burning up as he dragged his finger along your cheek. Each time you rocked your hips over his cock, your entire body shivered, eyelids fluttering. Realizing it was him making you meowl, that he kissed you so passionately that your lips were swollen was the hottest turn-on he'd ever felt. - "But my break is almost over. No way I'd undress you in this damn pantry for our first time, you deserve somethin' much better. You free tonight?" "Hmhm? What do you have on mind?" "Come pick me up after I close down. I'll make us dinner. We'll see where the things go from there, yeah?" "Can't wait, handsome."

After Vander watched you leave the Last Drop with a shy smile, his eyes glued to your ass, he couldn't stop grinning. Five hours remaining until your randez-vouz... A whole fucking eternity. The tent in his pants was unquenchable, no matter how many hairy men Vander attempted to imagine. This tween behavior made Benzo grin - he didn't need to ask what you've been up to, he already knew. Watching Vander's blush and his constant throat clearing was enough of a show in itself. Business his ass; Benzo and Vera actually bet if you'd have sex right then and there or if you'd wait for a better moment. Vera was now 20 Valors richer.

"Could you take over the tappers for a minute?" - Vander asked, looking at the drink she was just finishing - you'd like it. Filled with pieces of chopped fruit, a very refreshing mix of spirits and lemonade. - "Gotta arrange somethin' real quick." "You got it, V." - Vera called over her shoulder, showing Vander a thumbs-up. Leaving his tea towel on the bar, Vander turned on his heels to walk into the basement - this was his kids' designed hangout spot when they didn't feel like exploring Lanes. And since Vi was under house arrest, they've been lounging around it all weekend.

"Oh, hey." - Claggor was first to acknowledge him - he and small Powder were playing tick-tack-toe while Mylo read in the corner, only sending him a nod. Vi was sitting on the couch with her palms under her head, staring at the ceiling. "What's up, old man?" - Vi muttered, sitting up. She had the most authority over the group, so she needed to be pressured the most - getting along with her meant getting along with the rest of the kids. At this point, Vi wasn't even mad, unlike a month back - now, she spent most of the time thinking about how to avoid Vander's attention next time, ticking off the few remaining days on her hands.

"I wanna make a deal with ya, kids." - Vander started, leaning his ass into the counter below him. Everyone was paying attention now, their head turned directly at him. The truth was - he needed the flat empty if he wanted to host a dinner for you and fuck senseless after... Which would be difficult with four fucking kids around. - "I'll let Vi off the hook sooner if you'd sleep here, need ya outta my hair. Just for tonight." "Why?" - Powder wondered, her enormous blue eyes ogling at Vander. It was time to blush, sweat, and truly clear his throat. All the kids stared at him before Mylo exclaimed 'Aaaaah', laughing at Vander's busted ass. "... Our old man got himself a date." - The boy explained - before he managed to utter another word, Vi gripped her palm around his shoulder. "That's all she needs to know." - The girl ended topically, grinning at Vander. - "That's it? No buts or ifs if we stay the night here? That's all you askin'? You'll just... Let me off the hook?" "Depends, have you learned your lesson?" "Of course I did." - The girl answered, emphasis on the word 'did'. Yeah, right, and Vander was the newest fucking councilor. The kids started nodding frantically, making the old man chuckle. - "We all did. Last month had been very educational for all four of us." "Then you're off the hook. Of course, in case of an emergency, just come ask for help - I'll be here for you..." - Vander informed swiftly, watching as Vi sat next to him with an angelic smile - from his experience, she was about to ask the stupidest fucking question he'd heard all day. "Is it the pretty one? That one sitting on the bar all the time and staring at you as if she'd never seen a man? She has it bad for you." "You're begging for another month of house arrest." "Hadn't even said anything!" - The girl laughed, taking Vander's answer as a yes.

Striking a deal with the kids was a double-edged sword - they might be grateful for now, but jokes and innuendos were coming Vander's way, for sure. He needed to embrace all parts of fatherhood - the good parts, like Powder's drawings on the fridge or Vi's occasional hugs as well as the bad parts, consisting, for example, of the kids consistently finding sex and relationships cringe and disgusting. "Can I ask a favor from ya?" - Vander stopped in the doorframe, looking at the kids. - "Would you clean up the mess you've made yesterday?" "Oh, yeah... The pancakes..." - Powder sighed, remembering all the dirty dishes and ingredients plastered all over the kitchen sink. That might've been her job. Vander (while being very grateful for the breakfast) asked the kids if a bomb had gone off in the kitchen. "No problem, big guy, you got it!" - Vi exclaimed, her eyes shining as she just found another angle for a stupid statement. - "Everything will be good as new for your big night, on my honor." "You're on some mighty thin ice here." - The old man mumbled, but couldn't hide the grin appearing on his face.

Waiting for the Last Drop to close was endless, you'd swear - you'd change into outfit after outfit, trying out different underwear sets and even switching your hairstyle three times. You'd decided on something more decadent and less showy - while the afternoon visit was to seduce Vander, now you wanted to be more you - while being less fashionista, your outfits were still cute. Even walking into the establishment was nerve-wracking - just as you slipped through the door, Vera was leaving for the night after cleaning the whole place up. Jakob was long gone after that point - his mom was sick, so he'd leave around ten, leaving the two to deal with the locals and patrons.

"Hey." - You waved, smiling at the guy shyly. Vander was just polishing the tappers - you loved how his hand moved steadily, showing all the veins on his forearm. "Hey, you. Lookin' cute." - The man didn't waste any time making you fluster as you put your bag on your stool - you'd packed a few spare things to change into. "How was the night?" - Without hesitation, you'd walk behind the bar and roll up your sleeves to sort the different glass types Vander had lying around. "C'mhere. Forgotten somethin', silly." - Without notifying you, the man hugged your hips and pulled you in for a kiss - no matter your wet hands. Giggling, you didn't hesitate to kiss him back, gently smoothing his chin.

"Missed ya here, sweetheart." "I'm here now... And I'm starving." "Let me finish up so I can cook you somethin' delicious, doll." - Gently slapping your ass (melting at your surprised squeal), the man started finishing the very last chores feverishly. "I'm here to help - after I finish the glasses, what's on the agenda?" "Nothin' for you. I'd like some help in the kitchen, though." "Got it. Well..." - Smiling at him, you'd slap his ass back. It was a homely gesture you enjoyed, honestly. Something about slapping ass and watching his eyes shine as he glared at you made your heart flutter - getting another kiss helped too.

Vander's flat was on the top floor of the Last Drop - it was spacious, but felt crowded at the same time, for an inexplicable reason. There was a lot of stuff. Even though it was tidy, you got a chaotic vibe from the place... That meant you wouldn't like it, however. The design was incongruous, as you'd expected from a bachelor's fault - the pieces of furniture didn't match at all (in case they did, it was only vague), and the decoration was lacking, but he'd everything he needed. The flat smelled nice, unlike the rest of Zaun - like wood, oranges, jasmine, and his musk... It smelled like him.

"Welcome to my little kingdom." "Mhm, I like it here... A lot. Feels quite like home." - Your words made him smile even more widely than before - walking to you, he gently held your head in his palms before lowering his, kissing you with a happy hum. It was a sweet, delicate romantic kiss; his lips gently brushed yours, his palms slowly traveling onto your shoulders, copying the curve of your back and settling on your ass, bringing you impossibly close. "Let's get cookin' before you make me lose my damn mind, doll." - With a last caress of your jaw, he'd walk into a spacious kitchen/dining room. The table was impressively large - enough to host at least seven people. That was where you noticed it for sure - a lonely crayon forgotten under the table and children's drawings on the pantry door. Observing them, you nodded to yourself, putting your bag onto one of the chairs.

"There are... Nice." - You muttered, pointing at them. His expression froze for a second before he joined you in observing the masterpieces. "Mhm. I like 'em a lot. Always make my day." "Who gave them to you?" - With the most innocent expression you could muster, you pressed on with the interrogation. Vander... Wasn't taken, was he? He'd tell you if he was, right? Where would be his wife and presumed children - would he just tell them to leave the flat until he deals with his booty call? Surely not.

"Well, yannow, I help around the community. A lot of kids out here, a lot of excited painters." "Uh-huh." - The confusion and suspicion in your voice was almost tangible. There was one theory you could test out. - "Could I use the bathroom real quick?" "Suit yourself, doll. The first door on the left. Call out if you need anythin'." "I'll be right back." - Kissing his shoulder to divert his attention a bit, you walked inside the small bathroom - it wasn't anything regal, but it fulfilled its purpose. Turning on the basin to cause distraction, you started searching for proof of feminine presence - make-up, perfume, comb... Anything. The only thing you found, however, was a pink hairband forgotten next to the shower. A girl's hairband, you realized - could he be a widower? That would be fine too, you'd even understand why he hadn't mentioned it until then. Well, in that case, it would be better not to pressure him - he'll tell you on his own.

"Everythin' alright?" - He'd ask as soon as he noticed you lurking around the kitchen. Letting your eyes drown in the sight of a homey, domestic Vander was a heavenly sight. He'd taken off his jacket and worked on cutting some vegetables. "Everything alright. What can I help with?" "The meat." Cooking together was fun. You'd open a bottle of wine, chatting as you prepared the meal - Vander asked about details he hadn't learned yet, and you asked about his past, favorite pastime, and hobbies. As per usual, he'd been an open book, answering everything right away and with honesty - this guy could be married, no way in a million years. When a comfortable silence settled between you, you just wait for the meal to be ready - you've decided to settle on a small, very old kitchen island while waiting for Vander to finish peeling and roasting the potatoes.

"Whatcha grinnin' at, you pretty little thing?" "Just watching the most beautiful man I've met, 's all." "Look at her." - Approaching you, the man was purring with happiness. As he approached the edge of the island, your legs opened themselves to hook around his waist, bringing him closer. - "The accent's catchin' 'n everythin'." "Did to impress the guy I like." "Hope he's handsome and treats you right." "You have no idea." - Holding him in place with your palm, you put the glass down and closed off the distance, kissing him slowly. Passion built up with each little movement - he'd hold you impossibly close, his hands roaming your body freely, even taking the vest you've been wearing. Hip lips traveled from your lips to your neck, kissing a small trail below the collar of your blouse as he worked on the buttons. If you weren't starving, you'd let him undress you right there, on the fucking kitchen island... Ruining the atmosphere, your stomach started growling. The moment was gone in an instant, having you both laugh quietly.

"I'm sorry." - You laughed as he hugged you. This time, you let your hands roam around his broad back and shoulders, scratching it with your fingers. "Nothin' to be sorry 'bout. I promised you dinner and I intend to keep the promise." "You bet. Couldn't wait for what you have in store." "... If you provide the desert, that is." - The tone of his voice mesmerized you, having you ogling at him. Fucking hell, he looked so hot - looking at you with his eyes darkened with lust, his thumb playing with your lower lip. Wiggling your hips around, you could feel what was the reason for this sudden change of mood. His dick was deliciously outlined, almost begging to be pulled out and sucked, hitting the back of your throat. "I can give you a little taste." - With an innocent smile, your palm slowly caressed his lower abdomen, slipping down between his legs. Even the thought of having his dick on your palm made you hot and bothered, let alone imagine him finally fucking you after all this time. Sure, you've had sex before, but you've been this down bad and horny for anyone. Imagining him naked made you shuttered, his warmth made goosebumps rise on your skin - as if he knew what pressure to apply, how to apply it, and for how long... Vander was perfect. Fucking perfect. Just when you brushed the tip, Vander's palm tugged on yours.

"Dinner first, doll." - Pushing himself between your legs, he couldn't resist pulling you for one last kiss. - "You'll have all night for showin' me what a good fuckin' girl you are." "Okay, baby." "Good. I ain't plannin' on lettin' you leave until the mornin'." - With a last kiss on your temple, Vander walked back to the stove to check on the food. It smelled delicious. So much so that your stomach grumbled again.

The dinner was delicious, you had to admit. The man knew his cooking and he wasn't shying away from showing you heaven by overstimulating the everliving shit out of your taste buds. Vander even brought a bottle of wine from Last Drop's exclusive displays to amp it up. Having a man working in gastronomy spoiling you rotten had its benefits, you must admit. The conversation was... Mundane. You'd suspect the rising tension would've made it harder to make small talk. Still, it didn't change much except the hunger behind Vander's eyes - he hadn't seen you or talked to you properly in the last two weeks, of course, he wanted to hear what you've been up to, how locals treated you and if there's anything he can do to help.

You've been the one to do the dishes, despite Vander's protests - he was ordered to sit down and relax for a bit; he'd been on a long shift and cooked for you, no way you wouldn't return the hospitality. Other than fucking him senseless, that was. "Lord almighty." - It was a mere whisper, almost too quiet for you to notice. While drying your hands, you'd turned your head to Vander to send him a smile - his expression made you freeze in one place. His voice was husky as he stared at you, looking you up and down as if he hadn't seen a prettier woman before. His elbow leaned to the back of his chair, his tongue slowly traveling on his lips as he enjoyed the view - your hair let down, blouse half unbuttoned, tar trousers perfectly hugging your curves. Domestic behavior was one of his weaknesses.

The stare sucked the air out of your lungs, the smile disappearing. He'd been staring at you as if he was preparing to devour you alive, like a wolf preparing for the last blow. You've never felt like prey... Not in a good way. Daring to take it a step further, you unbuttoned the vest, letting it slip off your shoulders. The man didn't tear his eyes off you - it was hard to even blink, let alone move. Carefully, your fingers push under the blouse, showing off more and more of your skin. As you teased to show him your breasts, his response was a playful scoff. Turning away from him, you slipped the piece of clothing over your head; the see-through fabric left little to the imagination anyway, but finally looking at the laces of your bra left Vander biting his lip.

"Enjoying the show, big guy?" "You have no idea, doll." "How about you show me, then?" "Seems you're havin' fun on your own, don't lemme slow you down." "Could use a spare pair of hands." "Keep goin' and I'll think 'bout it."

Stripping for someone's enjoyment was new for you, but it was... Fun. You'd suspect you'd feel dumb, maybe silly; seeing how he palmed his hardening dick over his pants while watching each move you made gave you confidence. So much of it, in fact, that you slowly slipped the pants off your hips, your boots following soon after. Vander's eyes were glued to how you palmed your breast, playing with the hems of your panties. "Still want to only watch?" "Do you realize how mesmerizing you look, darlin'?" - With that, your fingers finally slipped under the fabric - your other palm grabbed on the kitchen unit so you could ache your back, letting out a lewd moan. - "Keep goin', doll, show me how you like it."

Fulfilling the wish, your fingers drew delicate circles around you, gathering all the wetness leaking out of you. You hadn't been this wet for anyone before Vander. Soon, you stopped caring if he was even watching you - you started to slip your fingers in and out, playing with yourself just as you enjoyed it. It was when your breathing got heavier and your knees started giving out when he finally walked over to you. Immediately, your forehead found its way to his shoulder, your fingers grabbing his forearm forcefully enough to leave dents. Helping you with getting off, he carefully pushed the tiny lacy panties aside (Vander wanted to keep them intact mainly because he suspected this piece of clothing would bring him on his knees anytime you'd show it to him). His fingers were much thicker than yours, making you moan in sensation as he carefully pushed them inside you, curling them up ever so slightly.

"Keep goin' for me, pretty girl, I wanna hear you moan." "F-fuck, Vander." - As he requested, so you provided, panting heavily between meowls and lewd moans leaving your mouth. - "You can add one more and go faster, please." While doing as you asked, he also slipped one of the straps off your shoulder, letting your breast bounce out of the bra. Carefully nibbling on your nipple, he'd pushed his knee between your legs to support you. With each second, your moves started becoming erratic as you ground against his hand, trying to match his palm's thrusts. "Shit, I think... I'm about to..." - Throwing your head backward, his lips found yours in a rough, passionate kiss. "Let go for me, c'mon, good girl." - His husky voice in your ears defused the bomb building inside your abdomen, letting you sink into his fingers in one last stretch. The orgasm felt surreal - his smell intoxicated your brain, your ears started ringing from the blood rushing inside your veins and your mouth produced the most erotic sounds it ever has.

"Holy shit, that was nice." - You admitted, gripping his shirt to lower him down for a proper kiss. "I want to hear this more often, sweetheart." - Vander chuckled, licking his fingers clean while staring you in the eyes. This view had you biting on your lip, kissing him once more just to feel his and your tastes mixed. This alone made you smirk. - "Can't believe how lucky I am to have you here. I imagined this so many times..." "Let me take care of you, big guy." - Leaving all the clothes in a discarded mess on the kitchen floor, your palm tugged on his palm to lead him inside the bedroom.

It was a bit messy, surely seen better days, but it felt very homey - his bed was unmade, clothes that he discarded in a rush were thrown over the chair and a collection of various books and papers gathered on the table. You could notice various framed pictures hanging on the wall but didn't go as far as to check them out. The bed seemed sturdy, excessive wooden frame resting at the mint green wall. You liked it. Even before you asked the first question, his lips crushed to yours, forcing you to back until your knees hit the edge of the mattress. While his hands started pulling his t-shirt off his body, you didn't waste any time unbuckling his belt, your lips kissing a wet trail on the skin he uncovered for you.

He'd been in better shape than you imagined - Vander wasn't the type to have his muscles flexing or rocking a six-pack, but he was slender with just the right amount of chubbiness sprinkled on top of it. Dad bod in its finest form, that's how Ezreal described it to you. You loved the curly hair on his chest; it wasn't too dense, just enough to look ridiculously hot. His happy trail below the belly button was very tasteful, making you moan breathily. Your fingers started to shake as you finally pushed his trousers down, putting your palms on his hips and taking a moment to simply adore him.

Vander was the most beautiful man you came across, there was doubt in your mind - you loved his fucking body. His palms were much larger in comparison to yours, also filled with small calluses due to his occupation, but the rest of his skin was smooth and warm. His stature was a sight to behold - broad shoulders, wide chest, and waist that simply begged to be puzzled between your thighs. Just by looking at the outline of his dick, you knew it was going to be a nice ride - its length was perfect for you, the only thing you were worrying about was how thick it appeared to be. "What's the frown for, doll?" - His voice broke you out of your thoughts, his thumb playing with your lower lip. "Never had someone so wide." - Your words made your pussy contract delightfully, already aching to feel him filling you to the brim. "I'm a handy guy, doll, I'm sure you can take it if I help you. But you gave me a promise, remember?" "Desert?" "Lay down for me, sweetheart, c'mon." - With a quick, skillful move, the bra slid off your shoulders, leaving you fully naked. And yet, you've never felt sexier as you laid down, letting him prop your back up with a pillow while getting on his knees. - "Look at the view, doll." -Vander murmured, pecking both your inner thighs. His smirk was screaming danger, but so fucking good-looking. You've been so aroused that the surrounding air felt cold on your core. - "Must be nicest I had in years. You're even wetter than before doll, God." - With a murmur, he'd kiss the sweet spot right above your clit, sliding his nose through your folds tantalizingly slow. - "You smell and taste so fucking good."

Then, he dived right in, taking you in his mouth with careful, slow, and precise movements - his tongue copied lazy circles around your throbbing bundle of nerves, and his palms and shoulders kept your legs spread wide open, no matter how many times you tried pushing them together. It could be felt he's skilled in eating out - even though he couldn't know what you liked, he started slow and looked at how you reacted, being perceptive enough to repeat the movements you seemed to enjoy and avoid those that made you frown. It didn't take him long to make you a whimpering, whiney mess - especially after his mouth dipped down to catch every bit of your arousal, licking you clean - his watery eyes were piercing through yours, watching as your breasts moved with each breath you took. When he pushed two fingers in once more, a long and needy moan filled his bedroom. That was when you broke off the eye contact and draped the sheets, concentrating on the heat slowly building in your abdomen, your toes curling against your will. His tempo was slow, playful... Vander was definitely taking his time with you.

"'s this what you imagined, doll? Havin' me on my knees, goin' insane over how you taste and sound?" - The man murmured into the skin on your thigh, sending light vibrations through your pussy as he chuckled upon listening to how you desperately tried putting a sensical sentence together. You failed miserably. As you stumbled on your words, his fingers sped up until you squirmed with pleasure, tightening the grip around his shoulders. - "With I could stay here forever, eatin' this pretty little cunt 'til my name's the only thing you remember. Such a pretty fuckin' little girl." "Vander, please, I need you." - With all the will remaining inside you, you managed to pick yourself up on your elbows, tugging on his hair. - "Please, baby, I need you so fucking much. Your tongue on me, your dick balls deep inside me, whatever you'd like... Just don't fucking stop." "Never, doll." - His mouth assaulted your sex with precision, devouring you like there was no tomorrow, even pushing his face further into you while his fingers worked wonders inside you. Your fingers tangled inside his hair, ensuring he wouldn't move an inch. The movements of his tongue became brutal the more your pelvis rode his face as you started chasing your release. He mumbled something, but you never got to know what it was - the vibrations were enough to send you over the edge, making your body tense up and thighs squeeze his head impossibly close to your clit as he continued sucking on it, riding you out of your high.

When your legs spread again, he gasped for air with a large smile, his beard glistening with your arousal. Fuck. Having him marked like that was turning you on. His fingers inside you didn't stop moving yet, enjoying the way your walls squeezed them. He enjoyed how you squirmed each time his thumb gently caressed your oversensitive bundle of nerves. "All good, doll?" "No one had... Jesus, hmpf... How... How are you so good at this?" "Just wanna see my girl happy, 's all. Love seein' your face like this." - Still working wonders between your legs, Vander picked himself off the floor to kiss you. Gently, he pressed in another finger, stretching you even more. But by Gods, it felt so good. - "We're there, baby girl."

Not breaking the kiss, his fingers slipped out of your slit, helping you to climb higher on the bed. Once again, you propped your pelvis up with a pillow, sinking your head into another. Vander caressed your cheek and kissed you before teasingly running his dick through your folds - you were still slippery enough thanks to the mix of his saliva and your arousal, so there wasn't a need for lubricating. His precum leaking out of the tip of his cock made it simpler. Still kissing you, he started teasing you cradling his pelvis back and forth with his dick aligned with your entrance, as if it was to slip any moment now; his other arm propped on the bedframe. "Ready, doll?" "Whenever you are." "Attagirl."

As soon as the tip of his cock slipped inside you, a hurtful hiss crossed your lips - his mouth was instantaneously back on yours, kissing you gently, the palm which was guiding his cock minutes later entangled with yours. Even though Vander did his best to loosen you up, he was still wide. The width made you gasp for air between kisses, each inch filling you like anything before. It didn't hurt, it was just a bit uncomfortable until you got used to the sensation. Your eyes sliding across his face and mouth wide open, you started enjoying the feeling of fullness, especially seeing the ecstatic, awed expression on his face. "Almost there, doll, almost there. You're takin' it so good." "It feels so good, baby. I love feelin' your dick inside me." - As you traced your fingers on his face, you could feel him throbbing upon your words. The sensation made you move against his body, letting the rest of the dick slip inside in one swift motion. - "Holy shit, fuck, fuck, fuck." "You look so fuckin' mesmerizing, takin' my dick like that." - His pelvis started moving carefully, sloppily slipping in and out of you. The sounds were so erotic, so perfect, turning you on even more.

When you felt like you could take it, you started to meet his thrusts halfway, making you both groan in pleasure. Your knees circle around his waist, pulling him deeper inside you - as he did his best to make love to you, his thrusts were playful, slow, and careful, making sure you're getting the most out of it. Vander was also making sure you'll be ready for when he'll start mercilessly fucking you like there's no tomorrow. "Mhmh, you feel so fucking good, Vander." "Love it when you say my name like this." "Vander..." - You moaned, feeling as his pace started picking up, his thrusts becoming more precise. - "God, Vander, Vander, Vander." "You'll be the death of me, fuck."

Before you grasped it, the headboard started banging into the wall as the bed creaked under the brutal tempo Vander had set - you didn't attempt to shush your screams and moans as you dragged your nails down his back, aching your back until your breasts met his chest. Both of you were sweaty and aching in the best way possible, sloppily kissing anytime you could. "I won't last for much longer, doll." - His voice was hoarse as he stared at your tits bouncing around, every semblance of sense erased from his mind. All Vander knew was how perfect you felt tightening around him, that this pussy must've been hand-made for him and him only, and that your moans were the most musical sounds he'd heard until that day. "Cum for me, big guy." "Where... Shit." - Vander sat up, putting his forearm under your back to keep you in position. This new sensation made you squirm, digging your nails deep into his forearm. He'd been even wider from this angle, filling you up better than before. - "Where do you want me, doll?" "Anywhere you want, Vander."

This was Vander's last stretch. His name falling off your lips in such a lewd manner fried his circuits, having him bury his dick deep inside you with one last thrust. Out of breath, Vander collapsed on your chest, listening to your fast heartbeat. Your fingers started playing with his hair and caressing his sweaty back, feeling the warmth spreading deep within you. Everything felt perfect. "You know how you said... You loved me?" "... Also said you don't have to say it back, Vander." "What if I'd like to, doll?" "... Then I'd be the happiest girl in the Lanes." "I love you." - The man murmured, picking his head up to look you in your eyes. The words made you smile widely as you held his pace in your arms, giggling. His softening member was still inside you, but neither of you seemed to be in the rush to pull it out.

"That's the fucking talking, big guy." "It ain't, on my honor. You're the best girl I've ever met. If you won't mind, I'd love to make you mine." "Then repeat it..." "I love you, doll." "Again." "I love you." "... One more time." "I love you, Y/N." "I love you too, Vander." - Cracking a smile, you let the man kiss you, losing yourself in his warm bear hug and embrace. Moments after, he finally picked himself up, walking to the bathroom to bring you a warm towel. Letting you clean yourself up, he disappeared into the kitchen to make you tea and pick up all your clothes scattered over the floor.

The night, just as he promised, was endless - he'd taken you from more positions, caressing your body with the utmost care, as if you were a goddess he wished to worship. You did your best to project his behavior, but you've been too lost in it all - his lips, warm skin, arms wrapped around each time part of your body, his groans in your ear, his beard scratching your lips anytime you kissed... It was around seven in the morning when you finally picked yourself up, pushing his shirt over your head. "Want something from the kitchen, big guy?" "All I want is you back as soon as you can." "Bet your ass..." - Before you could finish the joke, someone barged into the room, making you scream in surprise. You were moaning Vander's name just a few minutes back - who the fuck was this?

Looking at the incoming person, you've known the girl. You've already seen her serving in Vander's - the same violet hair, deadpan on her face as she looked at Vander covering himself with his sheets. "What the..." - You asked, looking at her. The girl, seemingly, ignored you. "... She did it again. I need your help, old man." "What? Who did what? Who are you? Vander?" - You asked with confusion, looking from Vander to the girl and back. "Oh, hi." - Suddenly, the trouble was forgotten as she leaned her shoulder into the doorframe, smiling at you cockily. - "Fancy seeing you here. Looking good." "Hi?" "What did Powder do this time?" - Vander sighed, bringing Vi's attention back to him. To hide the embarrassment, Vander massaged his face with a long sigh.

"We wanted to prepare some breakfast for you guys, so naturally, the stove's on fire." - The girl explained, but didn't seem to be in a rush to stop the ongoing apocalypse in the kitchen - now that you concentrated on it, you could hear distressed squeals and multiple people arguing, pans clinking on the metal - you could also see the smoke rolling out of the kitchen. The flat smelled hellish, making your eyes swell in tears from the subtle itching. "Cover the pan with a pot lid - it'll put out the flames. I'll be right over." "Hope you'll swing by too. Powder can't wait to meet you." - The girl picked herself off the doorframe, winking at you before closing the door.

"What the fuck was that?" - You asked, looking at Vander with disbelief. Who was she? Was she his daughter? Who are the other kids? You had your suspicions, yes, but this freaked you out more than you expected. You expected one, two kids at best - according to the ruckus, there were more people than that, though. "Listen, if you want to leave now, doll, I understand... I..." "Are these your kids?" "Sorta?" "Sort of? How can you 'sort of' have kids? "Adopted 'em little nuisances after the riots last year. None of 'em had a home to go back to - felt responsible for 'em. Listen, as I said, no one's holdin' you here. You must be furious..." "Fucking confused is what I am. Why didn't you tell me earlier?" "Wasn't confident 'nough if I'll even be what ya want without knowing I have four kids on my back." The vulnerable expression on his face made you soften up. Four kids was a lot, yes - his actions, however, were honorable. Where would they end up if Vander didn't step up, giving them a home and a loving fatherly embrace? The longer you stared at Vander, the more motivated you were to step out of the door confidently, sharing this awkward morning with all five of them, and taking everything it could give you. You... Wanted to meet them. You wished to know every possible side of Vander and share all the good and the bad with him. You wanted everything he was offering - whether it was holding your hand, kissing you during his shifts in the pub, all the mindblowing sex, warmth in his eyes as he whispered 'I love you', his fingers tracing your skin as you laid opposite each other and talked between fucking, his warmth, his love... You wanted it all. And if he had kids, that was a part of this little everything you wanted so bad, no matter how worried it made you.

"Was this the reason why you freaked out so bad?" "Ain't it obvious, Y/N? I'm almost forty, with a pub and four kids on my neck. Someone as young shouldn't worry about whether they have 'nough to eat, clothes to wear, 'bout what trouble they got themselves into this time... This ain't a life for such a young little thing." "But it's your life. And I want you..." "That's precisely why you shouldn't be wantin' me, doll. C'mon." "Stop making my decisions for me, Vander. Did you plan on telling me about the kids?" "Not for a bit... I was worried it would drive you away. I'm a selfish bastard, haven't you noticed?" "Fucking far from it. The least you could do was to tell me about them. It would make things less embarrassing." "What do you mean?"

"I mean, if you told me ahead of time, we could have our little rendezvous at my place - do you realize how awkward this is for me? For them also, I'm sure." "I'm sorry, Y/N... I didn't know how to bring it up..." "We better get going before Powder blows the kitchen up." "... You ain't gonna leave?" "Of course not. These kids are a part of your life, so I want to get to know them. Step by step. If let me stick around, I can be a good step-mum to them one day, maybe." "Are you serious?" - Vander asked, staring at you with his lips parted. "Dead serious." "I... Fucking love you, Y/N." "Right back at you, handsome. Move your ass before someone barges in to drag us into the kitchen."

___ Author's note: So, regarding Ezreal... I didn't want him to come across as a sappy romantic who's in love with the reader - he's more of a naïve playboy in my mind, constantly falling in love with whoever's in front of him, seeing different people every week. Ez definitely got the charm and rizz to pull something like that off. On the other hand, I think it could be a platonic love situation - they're both into each other (to one degree or another) - the reader doesn't date him, however, because she has standards, and Ezreal, as he admitted, would rather die than seeing someone like himself fooling around with her.

[i-yap]

Batboys x quiet! reader(who is not quiet in private)

( some of the reasons for the quietness is a bit traumatic so uhh warning)

Dick grayson -

opposites attract is possibly my favorite trope ever. And that is exactly what you guys are . Not exactly golden retriever x black cat though people who didn't know you guys well assumed such .

Dick would get exhausted spending forever being charming and charismatic for even the most extroverted of people get tired when they had to manage multiple superhero teams, a detective squad and the whole batfamily.

You were silence, peace serenity almost..until you weren't. Grayson was worried about this relationship in the start, after all you guys were really different. He was afraid you were going to be annoyed by his sunshine self, and that when he isn't feeling like talking, the conversations would go silent.

But you really are so different when comfortable with someone, and its tough not to trust and drop your shield with grayson.

It took him by surprise slowly seeing you open up and show your weird side. It somehow made him cherish it more and even want to show sides of him that only you got to see.

When he asked you why you weren't like this with everyone you said " My parents had a habit of talking over me, sometimes outrightly not hearing me speak at all. No matter how loud I spoke..i wondered if they couldn't hear me...if anyone even wanted to you" "why me then?" asked dick , "you're nothing like my parents, I know you care" and he does..he really does. He won't ever let you feel like that every again. He will make sure everything you want said is heard, and if not he will burn it into the skyline

Jason todd

he appreciated it, a quiet person in public. He hated being in public, he hated the buzz the noise the push the touch of humans around him. He felt strange

till he feels you hold his knowing you felt just as strange as him. Leave the gala and walk around the library , one earphone in each ear listening to whatever you wished to play.

Pulling you close in crowded areas- was it for you or for him? Glaring at anyone who dared tease you about your quietness. A single glare usually does the job but don't worry ...other ways exist too.

He loves that when you two are alone, you are a completely different person. It makes him feel special, like he is the only one who understands you. Because you're the only one who understands him.

When he asks " well I guess I never felt like people liked what came out of my mouth.. my humour too dark, my words too dumb and I didn't make sense. So I stopped trying" don't worry about being cringe..he understands you completely

Tim drake

he is intruiged. How do you pull such a perfect facade. How does one look so poised and collected with those rich assholes and so wild and untamed with him?

He could never really perfect the act the way you did. He's seen you grow up, but somehow its like you were born with two people living in your brain.

If you're this mysterious to your childhood lover, how does anyone in the world even think that they could know you, both versions of you.

Dont get me wrong, he loved it, A mystery he never could solve, not even with your help.

" Teach me your ways master" "I remember you wanting me to call you that last night..oh no wait it was si-" "shut upp" "fine ill tell you timmy boy, I just believe those rich stick up their ass puppets don't deserve to see all ..this.." "what about school kids, friends , teemates-" "I don't need anyone to get me as long as you do"

He will never get it, even if someone engraved it into his skin he wont understand everything about you , you'll always be the case he couldn't solve.

AND WE ARE BACK BICHES , send in requests and stuff, inbox open again blah blah I'm feeling much better now but I might push angst stuff more

[midnight1nk]

So, this week's episode...

[Spoilers below cut]

I'm absolutely terrified, it's not even funny. I can't even click it. But I have to... for the LOREEEEEEEEE... okay, let's-a go....

(The following is my live reaction:)

ay the TADC plug, of course

"Born to shit, Forced to wipe" - not smg3

wise words Three

also, the Ferris Wheel and rollercoaster thing is still there in the background (Ferris Wheel wedding, my beloved...)

I knew someone was going to bring up Meggy and her disappearance

LEGGY! MEGGY, WE'LL RESCUE YOU I PROMISE!!!

THANK YOU THREE for asking the right questions here

oh... not what I expected. at least the crew knows this is obviously Mr Puzzles

NAME DROP

OK, a LOT to digest here:

These are all the possible minigames that we might see in WOTFI. Well, at least all the attractions we could see...

a Mr Puzzles Chonk plush (in the bottom right)

a Tunnel of Love attraction... hmmmm.......

Huh, I didn't know this was by the coast of the Mushroom Kingdom. Or it could be an island/peninsula.

The what now, Leggy?

YEP I knew that once they found out, they would want to leave

...and of course, Mario wants to stay

Yeah, Luigi said it himself

but also, look at the Mr Puzzles cardboard cutout in the back, he's wearing Meggy's cowboy hat from Western Spaghetti

Alright, but before we go in, we gotta have a buddy system, guys

All these critiques are going to make Mr Puzzles lose himself even more than he already is

I think I saw someone posted about submitting a water gun game so congrats for getting in!

Leggy Plush!!

also spider-man plush... symbiote... venom... GOOP!4????

...Once Upon A Perfect SMG4?

[*points at Four and Mario*] The sillies

ok, but like, why is Three smiling like that while everyone else looks so disappointed?

They did the buddy system!

Bob: "Those dumbasses will see ANYTHING and get excited."

I feel seen and I don't like it.

I don't like this either. I already know this is a trap but like noooooo

Three just standing there like a dad watching over his kid

Someone else also submitted a mini-game involving a ducky fishing game

GOD DAYUM.... why did you have to pose like that, Three? You're not beating the allegations, huh.

Aw, Three really wanted to enjoy a carnival if Mr Puzzles wasn't involved (writers, write that down + carnival dates)

OK NOPE WE NEED TO GET OUT OF HERE NOW

🫵 🏳️‍🌈⁉️

oh c'mon now, it's just plainly obvious. Not that it should be surprising, everyone's part of the skittle squad (tm)

STRONG WOMEN we love to see it

...that can't be a real thing... can it?

same Luigi same

YES PLEASE CAN WE?

sorry dude, they really locked in

also what the hell is that building in the back?

Luigi (or rather the SMG4 fandom): "See? I can handle this! I'm not afraid anymore! Do you hear me? I'm not afraid-" [*horror jumpscare*] [*scream*]

NOT EVEN MELONY'S GOD POWERS COULD HELP US, WE'RE FUCKED

NOOOOOO NOT KAREN AND SAIKO

THREE WE NEED TO LEAVE NOW

NOOOOOOOO THREEEEE I THOUGHT HE WAS GOING TO BE THE LAST ONE TO MAKE IT OUT

[*sobbing*] he sent one last text to warn them :( he really does care

AND HE SENT IT TO FOUR [*head in hands*]

the contact names they have for each other.... (I'm not well)

WE GOTTA GO [*runs*] GET OUT GET OUT

Leggy... why did your face change like that?

WHAT WAS THAT CRYPTIC CAPTION?!

Mario, please don't sacrifice yourself... oh, thank god! They really are having me panicking for the smallest things

wait... OMG THEY SAW MY SUBMISSION! THEY SAW IT!

the mini-game challenge that I submitted:

Pop & Whirl: Everyone gets a bag of popcorn. The winner must keep all of their popped kernels in their bag, without dropping a single one... while being chased around the carnival by a collapsed Ferris Wheel (Professor Layton style)!

I DON'T CARE IF IT DOESN'T HAPPEN AGAIN IN WOTFI, I'LL TAKE IT. But if it does happen, I'll draw lawyer Meggy with a redesigned Ace Attorney-esque outfit (somehow)

please don't tell me the green pipe is also a trap...

...the exit door from TADC?

oh god, why does this remind me of the dark web?

and the eyes on the mushrooms... [*IGBP flashbacks*]

heh heh, funny mirrors... AH SHIT PUZZLES, DON'T JUMPSCARE ME LIKE THAT

actually, now that I think of it, Mr Puzzles hasn't revealed himself this whole time...

THE DIDNEY ENGINE ROOM?!

...holy shit

so was I right about us getting to see Mr Puzzles' "truest form" and the whole "Eye of Ra" thing?

are those his arms? and the circle things, it could be part of his cyborg texture but they also look like eyes.

the fog part is really interesting because they could've gone with any "spooky" color but they chose this. It's the creative vision, the one Didney had in this room.

This really reminds me of the goo from IGBP and Wren's wire simulation in Western Spaghetti, but also from this angle, a bit of Zero's "no legs" body design.

"His obsession becoming his identity" - Puzzles connected himself to the single star Didney had. You got it right, past Ink.

HUH?! YOU CAN'T END IT THERE

AND THEY GRAY-ED OUT OUTRO, NO MUSIC! IT'S ABOUT TO GO DOWN, GUYS

also congrats to Nikej1708241 for making it to the credits 🎉

.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.

That was a pretty solid episode ngl. Probably not as "plot twist-y"

(i know that's not a word) as the previous episode but my spaghetti gods, it delivered! Not Marty again, we may have to rethink this one.

Ok, I've made a list of all the attractions and mini-games there are in the carnival grounds in Puzzle Park:

Ferris Wheel

"Tender Tunnel" (Tunnel of Love attraction)

Merry-Go-Round carousel

Basketball arcade game

Hammer game

Bumper Cars

"House of Crazy" funhouse (also that fits Mr Puzzles somehow)

A spooky cart ride

Water gun game

Rocket ride

Arcade (just flat-out an arcade)

Clown Ball Game

(There's apparently a cafe???)

Ducky Pond fishing game

Pizza shop (....marty?)

It's probably not all of them, we would just have to wait and see, but if you submitted a mini-game that involves any of these, congrats, you likely got in!!!

I still very much enjoyed this episode and some of what I theorized could possibly come true. And some didn't, which is totally okay with me. I'll cherish the Ferris Wheel chase scene regardless :)

We still have to wait for a trailer or a special video in regards to WOTFI, which I will have to analyze and see what's to be expected. From the looks of it in this episode, it seems like it's up to SMG4 and Mario to rescue their friends one by one by completing the mini-games. The more people they rescue, the more help they can get to complete the games. And that includes saving Meggy at the end.

Now, personally, I don't want Mr Puzzles to die. Not yet. There is still a lot of potential that could go for him. A similar redemption arc just as Three went through. Puzzlevision 2. Goop!4. Marty. Anything could happen. Then again, he could die.

Now you might think he might not die because he has a plushie, but there's literally merch of Axol and Desti and they're dead. Puzzles isn't safe from this possibility.

Put in your final bets, my dear fellows, because nothing will ever be the same again...

[yoredoesmore]

hii can i pls ask for an argument with hoshina and how u fixed everything after jsnshsbshsbs 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

a/n: thank you for your request (´∀｀)♡ this took longer than it should have, I apologize ╥﹏╥

pairing: hoshina soshiro x fem!reader

summary: a small misunderstanding turns into a huge argument.

genre: romance/hurt & comfort/jealousy/fluff |

[wc: 1,6k]

enjoy!

Kiss and Make Up | Hoshina Soshiro

You were mad, beyond pissed even. Your heart was beating in irregular motions and the irritation practically oozed off your face. The tension laid thick in the air as you and your boyfriend continued to ignore each other, sitting in complete silence in front of the television.

So many thoughts roamed your head– insults, counter arguments and statements, yet you refused to give the man another second of attention.

He has truly done it now.

“I'was just another celebration with the squad, nuttin that big of a deal. You would have known if you had come.” Hoshina slurred his words as he dragged his drunk self through the hallway of your shared apartment and into the bedroom.

“Bet that Okonogi was there too, right? That smartass wannabe who always seems to be in desperate need of your help.”

“Oh pwease, you're overreacting. Okonogi is not like that so stop bein so annoying.”

That last statement had sealed his fate (and almost earned him a slap in the face). Before you knew it, the two of you fell into a fully blown out fight that lasted through the entire night. Insults were dropped, his hands pushed you and yours shoved him as well.

“Why are you acting like this all of a sudden?! It's honestly so irritating!” Hoshina yelled out.

“Your stupidity is more irritating! Maybe if you stop being so full of your fucking self all the time and start using that brain of yours, you would see the issue at hand!” You snapped back.

Fights were uncommon in your relationship but when the two of you fought it was messy and draining. But most importantly, they stung.

Even after the night had fallen and sunshine arose, the atmosphere in your apartment still laid thick in the air. Half the day had passed and neither of you said anything to each other, until the both of you ended up in the living room at the same time. He was busy taking care of the cats (who had run into the wide space) while you were already sitting there, reading your favorite novel.

At first silence kept the situation at bay, neither of you forced to interact with one another, until a phone call broke the tranquil atmosphere.

“Your work phone, huh.” You said, eyes remaining on the book as you flipped to the next page. “Wonder who that could be.”

Hoshina refrained himself from answering your remark and quickly picked up the call. Although he had turned the loud speaker function off, you were able to hear a female voice from the other side.

“Yeah of course I can help, no need to thank me.” He hung up.

“Let me guess, little damsel in distress needs your help again?”

“That's enough, Y/n.” Hoshinas voice cut sharp through the room, silencing you temporarily, before you spoke up again.

“Don't talk about Okonogi like that, alright? She is a good friend and your coworker. Ya being so unreasonable.”

“I am being unreasonable?? Oh, I'm sorry for getting upset when my boyfriend spends more time with his good friend than his partner!” The book was no longer of any importance to you. You had tossed it while standing up from your seated position.

“How long has this been going on now?? Every other day she asks you to hang out or do this together or she needs help here and there. Are you fucking kidding me??”

“Oh please, look at the way you're acting, it's ridiculous! We work in the same department so of course we spend a lot of time together!”

It felt like your words went right past his ear and vice versa. Both of you were now standing right across from one another, anger evident on both your faces. Even the tension grew in size, swallowing up the entire space and forcing your cats to run out.

You hated the surge of anger that rushed through your body. Feeling this way, jealous and annoyed when the man who normally solved all your problems was right in front of you, it pained you deeply. In moments like these, all you wanted to do was break down and hide away, preferably in his arms, but that was not an option right now.

“You sure that's the only reason you spend so much time together? Because it sounded different a couple weeks ago.”

“A couple..what are you talking about??” Hoshina asked, genuinely confused. You broke your gaze, looking at the ground in hopes that the pressure would disappear.

“At the bar..don't act like you don't remember!” And without allowing him to even respond, you dashed into your room and knocked the door shut behind you. Your boyfriend simply stood there, unsure of how to react to this sudden change of events. A long sigh escaped his lips as he followed you into the room.

“Y/n..”

“Leave me alone!” Your head was buried deep into the pillow (the one on Hoshina's side). Tears had made it out of your eyes and you desperately wanted to hide them.

“What exactly did I say at the bar..please tell me.” The regret in Hoshina's tender voice did not go unnoticed by you. It tugged on your heart and only caused the pain to increase. You truly hated seeing him like this.

“You..you said that you like smart women..” Repeating those words from weeks ago now made you feel stupid. “When Kafka asked you what your type was..you said that you prefer smart women and then you..proceeded to look at Okonogi! She was sitting right next to Kafka, so maybe you were looking at him instead, I don't know, I was just as drunk but still!”

Hoshina stood in front of the bed, disbelief holding him back from talking. He could barely remember the events of that night, only that it involved too much alcohol. But hearing you say those words, with tears in your eyes and a broken voice, it made your boyfriend feel like shit.

“But I was obviously talking about you, love, You are smart” He said as he placed himself next to you on the bed, hands rubbing your back. “Wait..is that why you didn't join us in yesterday's get together?”

You nodded hesitantly.

“I am not smart, not at all. I work as a damn secretary for the Kaiju Hunters while Okonogi is a skilled woman who runs analysis and she is the Operations Leader. And not to mention, she is so pretty too.”

Up until now, Hoshina did not know that you were harboring such emotions. Your sudden confession left his mind blank, it was as if he had temporarily lost all thoughts due to the shock. You on the other hand couldn't have felt more embarrassed.

You had no right to go after Okonogi like that and blame her for your insecurities. But when Hoshina spoke those words and afterwards looked at her, you just felt too heated.

Moments like these made you wonder, why Hoshina refused to leave you. Unlike the other women in his life, you were hotheaded and emotional, pushing and shoving when someone messed with your feelings instead of talking it out.

Little did you know, that this was exactly what Soshiro liked about you. He loved you for being hotheaded and a tease, but also sweet and caring during the right moments. You were the perfect match for him and nothing could convince him otherwise.

“Y/n, don't you ever say that about yourself ever again. You are my smart, beautiful hotheaded woman, the woman I love and cherish. Plus it takes hella brain to work as a secretary, especially for those jerks.” Soshiro placed his hands on your shoulders, pulling you back up into a seated position.

Your eyes were slightly puffy and a soft frown pulled on your lips.

“I'm sorry for not expressing myself clearly enough and for making it seem like I prefer Okonogi to you. You are the one I love and care about, I promise.”

“But..but I am so mean to everyone and to you as well, Soshiro.” Hoshina's words had touched your heart and caused the tears to resurface, even though they never truly left.

“Plus I get jealous way too easily and don't..I'm just too..” You hiccupped.

“Shh, there there. I don't wanna hear none of that, you hear me?” Your boyfriend wrapped one arm around your waist while the other patted your head. A soft kiss found its way on your cheek, drawing a pout from your lips.

“I'm sorry Soshiro, for being so irritating. You are a great friend and coworker to Okonogi and you are a true blessing for constantly helping her out. I shouldn't get jealous over that." Hoshina smiled and placed another kiss on your face, this time on your lips. It felt sweet and comforting, you wished it could have lasted forever.

“And I'm sorry for being so stupid.”

You pulled him into a tight hug, the sweet scent of his body filling your nose. The hug lasted quite long, as long as you both needed it to, and it patched up all the wounds that were still left open by the argument. As you pulled away, you gazed into each other's eyes, losing yourself temporarily.

“Lucky for you, I love my women slightly irritating.” He joked.

“And I like my men stupid.”

“Hey!”

The both of you laughed, the content of the argument already forgotten.

a/n: i know its not obvious at all but i was actually going for a hori x miyamura type of relationship

(͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) (do we as a society still use this emoticon?)

i just love hori’s and miyamura's dynamic, they could never make me hate them! plus i wholeheartedly believe that Hoshina needs a partner who is more emotional/teasing than him so he can be sure that his attitude is handled ^^

[dandylovesturtles]

this is a brain worm that spawned as soon as I read the second injury prompt, bad future timeline, from the prospective of someone outside the family (civilian, fellow resistance fighter, etc), where one of the brothers/april/or either of the casey’s are injured, “Someone get the medic. Get the medic!” and the medic is leo, unknowingly responding to a gravely injured loved one

shit this is a good prompt anon, thanks

credit to @promptsbytaurie for the injury ask meme!

cw: ROTTMNT bad timeline, mentions of blood and injury

———

He finds her leaned against some rubble, the carcasses of four krang hounds strewn around her. They don’t bleed like earth creatures, but the stringy bits of their mutilated bodies are strewn across the ground, and all he can think is, Good.

There is blood, though: her blood, gushing from a set of lacerations in her side. She’s so still that he thinks, for one awful minute, that she’s dead.

Then she shifts and groans and he stumbles quickly to her side, dropping to his knees and putting pressure on the wound, the way he was taught in ROTC a million years ago.

She sucks in a breath, gritting her teeth, and then her eyes open. They rove the battlefield with a dazed confusion, and he wonders if that’s a concussion or just the blood loss. Or both.

“Commander O’Neil,” he says urgently. “We need to move you.”

Her head turns and her searching eyes find his face. She blinks rapidly and squints at his face.

“Who…?”

He smiles, because it’s a kindness he can give her. Kids in school used to make fun of his buck teeth. Weird how an alien invasion makes some things easier. “Jake West. I joined your squad last week.”

“Oh, right.” She grunts and starts to shift. “New guy. Help me up, will you?”

Jake shakes his head. “I don’t think you can walk with that wound.”

“Well, I’m not letting you carry me out of here like some damsel in distress,” she says stubbornly. She slings an arm over his shoulders, gritting her teeth. Her brow is sweating, but she repeats, “Help me up.”

Jake’s only been part of this resistance colony for two weeks, since the tattered remnants of his last group was found by one of their scouting parties, but he already has a lot of respect for O’Neil. She’s a foot shorter than him, but she embodies toughness in the set of her shoulders and her refusal to back down. She’s more fearsome than most of the old military guys Jake’s ever met.

So he helps her up.

She stumbles when she’s on her feet, and he moves in to keep supporting her. The blood drips down her side, and she hisses when she sees it.

“Can’t believe I let those hounds get a piece of me. Dee’s gonna be insufferable.”

Jake wonders who “Dee” is, but doesn’t ask. They have to get out of here - the onslaught may have calmed for the moment, but the krang always come back.

O’Neil can’t move very quickly - Jake finds himself dragging her more than he helps her walk. He suggests carrying her again and she turns it down, though only with a shake of her head this time. They stumble through the rubble in mostly silence, making for the base’s hidden entrance.

Above their heads, there is a noise like a sonic boom, a streak of orange lighting up the sky as it goes past, latching onto an approaching krang drone ship and pulling it out of the sky.

“There goes Mikey,” says O’Neil, without even looking up.

Right; Master Michelangelo, one of the turtles. Jake had felt a little trepidation, when he had first learned this resistance group was full of - and even run by - inhuman mutants.

Then he’d seen what they could do, and that feeling faded fast.

He hasn’t actually met the turtles, only ever seen them in passing. He’s heard from those have been here longer that they’re actually really friendly, or at least all of them but Master Donatello are. More importantly, they put their lives on the line every day for what remains of the people of earth. Jake hasn’t needed to be here more than a few weeks to see that.

They fight like they have everything to lose. Jake respects that.

Master Michelangelo’s cover makes the trip back to the base easier, even as O’Neil flags more and more against his side. By the end he’s carrying her whether she wants it or not, draped half across his back in a fireman’s hold. She’s too out of it now to object. He hopes that doesn’t mean he’s too late. He’s so tired of losing people, even those he hasn’t known long. He likes Commander O’Neil.

He stumbles through the tunnel and into the bright synthetic lights of the entry checkpoint. Most combatants have already returned by now, but there are still people milling around, checking for any signs of krang infection in those coming back.

“Someone get the medic!” he hollers as he enters. “Get the medic!”

There’s a few echoing shouts, and then a door flings open and out walks Master Leonardo himself. He’s wearing a makeshift surgical apron, covered in blood, gloves, and a mask hanging loose around his neck. Jake’s never seen him this close, and now he’s a little taken aback, the way the turtle towers over everyone, moving so lithely despite the bulk of his shell, a commanding but easy air to his presence that seems to demand respect but also offer reassurance to everyone else in the room.

Every time Jake’s seen him from afar, he’s been grinning, laughing, smiling. He isn’t now.

“Don’t yell unless someone’s dying,” he says, eyes scanning the room until his gaze locks with Jake’s. He sees the body slumped across Jake’s back and grimaces. “I need to learn to keep my mouth shut.”

He crosses the room and directs Jake toward one of the cots. “Alright, put ‘em on the triage bed and let’s see what we’re working with.”

“Lacerations, sir,” says Jake, as he lowers O’Neil to the cot. “She was conscious when I found her, but she’s lost a lot of blood. Maybe a concussion.”

He trails off as he turns back and sees Master Leonardo’s state. His eyes are locked on O’Neil’s face, like he’s only just recognized who it is on the cot. His mouth hangs slightly open, and there’s an open, vulnerable devastation, a naked fear on his face. One Jake recognizes too well.

Even the mutants, with all their powers and all their strength, can be afraid.

Then, just like that, he pulls it together again for a fleeting glimpse Jake saw Leonardo, but now the Master is back, and barking orders.

“Marta!” he calls, turning his head to address a woman standing at the inspection line. “Prep OR now! And get us ready for a blood transfusion- B positive if we have it.”

“On it,” says Marta, and she’s gone just like that. Jake turns his attention back to Leonardo, who has taken O’Neil’s wrist in his, feeling for a pulse.

He’s quiet for several seconds, then he nods to himself and starts asking questions.

“Any idea what did this?”

“It was hounds, sir. I found her with several dead ones.”

“Sounds about right.” Master Leonardo sounds almost amused, though he doesn’t stop his work. “Any sign of infection?”

“No. She was talking and able to walk most of the way.”

Krang infections take over the host so quickly, they would know by now, with a wound like that.

“Hounds can only infect with their bites, and these look like scratches from claws.” Leonardo comes out again, as he reaches for O’Neil’s hand and gives it a squeeze. “Knew you wouldn’t let them get a bite in.”

The way he looks at O’Neil is so tender. They clearly know each other, and not just as fellow resistance commanders. Jake can’t help but wonder how they know each other; how a human and a mutant came to have a bond this close.

He doesn’t have time to ask, of course. Seconds later, O’Neil is being moved to OR, and Leonardo is making to follow them.

“Sir!” Jake calls after him. “Is there anything else I can do to help the commander?”

Master Leonardo barely pauses. “Get yourself checked for infection, and donate blood if you can. Then get some rest. You’ve done enough today.” He glances over his shoulder. “And stop calling me ‘sir’. Makes me feel so old.”

Then he’s gone.

Jake watches the door Leonardo just disappeared through for a second, then moves to do as he was told. He thinks about the way Master Leonardo looked at Commander O’Neil. Like she was part of what he was fighting not to lose.

And he thinks, maybe, that they’re lucky here. That this just might be the resistance that saves the world.

[cottonlemonade]

Plan B

word count: 1015 || avg. reading time: 4 mins.

pairing: post-time skip!Kuroo x chubby!Reader

genre: fluff, pining

warnings: none

synopsis: he is trying to convince you to go out with him

The café was in its typical morning lull when you came in. After the coffee rush of the business crowd and students on their way to class there were now only a few people seated comfortably around the small round tables, chatting idly and enjoying a piece of quiet in the hustle of a new Monday. This was your favorite time of the day. The early spring sun was shining happily through the large front windows, making the dark wooden walls appear as if dipped in honey. The smell of freshly brewed coffee mixing with the soothing scent of cookies, all amidst the faint sound of traffic humming underneath the soft clanking of spoons gave you a deep sense of calm.

After the daily round of hellos and how-are-yous, you put on your black apron and got to work in the kitchen, starting on the preparations for lunch.

“Manager?”, an hour later as you just put the finishing touches on a batch of orange drizzle muffins, one of your baristas poked his head through the door and gave you a look. You sighed and joined him in the front by the cash register. Sure enough the tall man waited for you, a wide grin across his handsome face.

“No.”, you told him before he even got the chance to say anything.

“And good morning to you, too.”

“No.”, you said again, beginning to prepare his usual order of simple green tea.

“Just one cup of coffee, we don’t even have to leave the premises.”

“400 yen, please.”

He counted out a small stack of coins on the counter and crossed his arms.

“Where is your cheer squad today?”, you asked, referring to his usual companions of a broad guy with spiky gray hair and a smaller one whose smile rivaled the sun in brightness. Needlessly supervising the last drops of hot water in the to-go cup, you made sure to add the exact amount of tea leaves to a little bag, just so you didn't have to look at him and his ridiculously confident smirk.

“Eh, I think they got tired of you rejecting me.”

“Interesting, any chance that’ll happen to you, too?”

“Sure, I’ll stop”, he slid over to where you were finishing up his order and lowered his voice, “when you stop blushing whenever I ask you out.”

He accepted his order with a wink. “Thank you. See you tomorrow.”

When the door closed behind him, you found your barista leaning against a counter with a cocked eyebrow.

“That makes seven!”, he announced, pointing to a small blackboard on the back wall where you usually wrote down the groceries needed that week. In the lower left hand corner he and the rest of the staff had begun to keep a tally of how often the guy had asked you out so far.

Seven times in three weeks. You smiled against your better judgment. You knew not to take him too seriously. Knew it was just a game to him. When he came in for the first time you had almost dropped a mug, because how could someone look this casually seductive?!

It wasn’t that you didn’t have the urge to say Yes just for the hell of it. But you weren't in the mood to be a short-lived plaything for a guy who probably only thought chubbies were easy. And thus began a regular routine of rejecting him. You didn’t know whether you actually wanted him to stop or if saying No to him had just become a reflex. A wise one probably.

Kuroo groaned and gently hit his head against his desk. Of course the thought that he might be an actual creep for asking you out so much had occurred to him but when he made his initial attempt, you had said Yes at first before immediately changing your answer to No. How on earth could he prove to you that he wasn‘t kidding when he told you that you were on his mind all day? Your smile, your voice, your exceptionally squishable body all brought new amounts of cute-aggression into his life.

At this point he was running out of options. Maybe… maybe he should just wait until you approached him instead - if you ever would, that was. He needed a new idea.

And so, one misguided day, he listened in on the gossip of his coworkers who talked about what mundane things they found attractive in a guy. And that’s how we got here:

Kuroo sat at a large four seater table in the corner of your café. Papers were strewn about, magazines lay open for references. He had loosened his tie and opened the top two buttons of his crisp white shirt; his reading glasses were pushed back onto his nose in regular intervals. It was warmer today. So warm that he had discarded his jacket and rolled up his sleeves, wristwatch glinting in the soft glow of the afternoon sun. He gave a little frown and absentmindedly bit his bottom lip as he consulted one of the articles, sometimes silently mouthing along to paragraphs he read, twirling the pen in his long fingers. He lifted a page to read the next, making a note on a separate sheet, the muscles in his forearm taut while he wrote.

He looked up at nowhere in particular, then closed his eyes and stretched his tired neck, the open shirt tightening around his broad shoulders, the line of his jaw highlighted by the golden light beaming through the large windows…

"Sir.", a waitress stepped professionally to the table, a towel neatly tucked in the waist cord of her apron, hands politely folded in front of her stomach.

"Yes?"

"The manager isn’t here today."

His cheeks started to burn, "Why- I mean… what?"

"And while we do appreciate what you do for the ambiance", a subtle gesture pointed out the girls, women and the barista staring, some even holding up their phone camera, giggling behind their hands, "this isn’t a library, so please order something or free the table."

"…O-of course."

[part 2]

[batsythoughts]

BECAUSE I APPARENTLY WRITE ANGST TOO HEARTBREAKING, HERE IS AN ALTERNATIVE VERSION FOR BRUCE TO GET HIS HAPPY ENDING

Original Version

Time came around for you to arrive at the manor and everyone was practically bouncing in their seats in excitement

The moment the doorbell sounded through the halls, all the kids stood up

Bruce told them all to wait there as him and Alfred went to go open the door to let you in

There you stood in your best outfit as Bruce welcomed you inside with a smile while introducing you to Alfred

Alfred gave a polite nod while saying that the whole family has been so excited to offically meet you

Alfred goes to make sure the table is set for everyone as Bruce begins to guide you towards the living room

The moment you came into view there was a chorus of 'hello's that came the group before they each began to introduce themselves

Barbara, Stephanie, Dick, and even Cass went up to give you a hug while the others politely waved

Damian subtlety walked over to Bruce as the cheerleader squad already began to ask for the story of your life

Damian leaned towards his father as he whispered, "This one seems like a very suitable compared to the others you've accompanied yourself with."

Bruce chuckled softly while patting his son on the shoulder, glad to have his verbal approval

Alfred called for everyone to come to the dining room so they could talk more over dinner

Everyone happily showed you which spot beside Bruce you could sit in as the others took their own spots around the table

The chatter is casual as everyone eats, saying that they had put all their effort into making a meal you would like

You tell them that it is a very nice meal and you appreciated the effort they had put into it for the night

Everything goes quiet for a moment as the children take in the praise that was given to them

Jason suddenly pipes up as he looks over at you with a knowing smirk on his face. "Did you know that Bruce still has the first drawing you did on his coffee cup in one of his desk drawers?"

Bruce drops his fork in embarrassment as he sends Jason a intense look as a way to tell him to be quiet

Barbara excitedly added that it was the only way they knew how to find you to begin with anyways

Cass commented on Bruce having just been randomly 'peppy' in the mornings so they wanted to find out and they weren't actively trying to snoop in his business, which Dick quickly said they that's exactly what they all had done

Bruce quickly tells them to stop talking about it with a flustered look on his face before everyone went back to eating

It lasted for all of 10 seconds before Tim quietly added, "He has one in the car's glove compartment as well."

Everyone looses their shit over that revelation while you cover the smile on your face while looking over at Bruce. Softly assuring him that you thought it was kinda sweet

Bruce kept his gaze down as he told them all he was going to change his locks on both his desk and drawers in the morning

Alfred came walking in with a tray of cupcakes with decorative frosting and placing it in the center

All the girls excitedly tell you they had made the frosting from scratch themselves and paid extra care to make the flowers on them

You smile while taking one of the cupcakes as you admire the design before taking a bite

A hum of approval comes from you as you look at them with an eager nod

The kids get their own cupcakes from the try before talking to one another for a moment

Bruce turned towards you with a grin on his face as you stared back at him while the attention wasn't focused just on you

Bruce reached his hand out to take hold of yours on the table while rubbing his thumb over your knuckle as you just stare at one another

Stephanie quickly takes a picture on her phone before going back to her conversation with Jason and Tim

When everyone was done with their cupcakes, the kids helped clear the table as Bruce takes you to the living room to sit down on the couch together for a moment alone

Bruce expresses his apologies for how the kids had acted for a few times throughout the dinner

You quickly assured him it was fine and were expecting something to that extent anyways

The both of you lean back on the cushion as Bruce pulls you into his side, placing a soft kiss to the top of your head

"I'm glad you could come. All of the kids already seem to adore you. Though, it wasn't too hard for a few of them."

You give a small chuckle while turning your head to give him a soft peck on his cheek

You tell him that you found them all sweet, in their own way, and you were glad to have finally met them all

It goes quiet for a moment before you ask, "Did you really keep the coffee sleeves that I drew on?"

A soft groan comes from Bruce as he leaned his head back on the couch

You gave a small laugh while softly teasing him on how many more he had. Asking if he wanted you to draw some more so he could make his own collection

Bruce grabbed the back of your neck to give you a kiss to make you stop talking about it

You gently kiss back while bringing your hand to his cheek to return the kiss

"Children coming into the room! Please make sure all clothes are on! We don't need any images of undres to be burned in our minds!"

You pull away laughing as Jason yells that from the other room before everyone came walking in

A few of them laughing along as they see Bruce's flustered expression as he rubs his temple

The girls go to your side of the couch and begin asking if next time you would want to do a movie night with them all

The boys go to the other side while just stare at Bruce with knowing expressions

You assure them that you would love to spend more time with them the next time that you come over but you sadly did have to leave since you had work tomorrow

Sounds of disappointing come from all around as you stand up

Bruce gets up as well while saying that he will walk you out

"Alone," he adds before any of the others can fully get up from their spots to come along

When you both get to the door, Bruce tells you how he was glad you were able to make it and he would need to have you over again soon

Mostly cause the kids would bug him until you came back

You smile while agreeing because it was such a fun night

The two of you share a small kiss goodnight before you finally walked out the door, promising to tell him when you got home

Bruce smiles as he makes sure you get in the car before finally closing the door

He walks back into the living room to see everyone patiently waiting for him

They all have smiles as they look back at Bruce as if waiting for some kind of special news

This time, it's Dick that speaks up with a smirk on his face

"So... are you gonna get married to them, or do we have to ask for you again?"

[swan2swan]

Rewatching the original Livewire episode of 90s Superman last week and rewatching the premiere of My Adventures With Superman a few days later really put something into perspective...

The new one is much, much better.

Granted, Lori Petty's voice is iconic, and her character has a ton of charisma...but boy, is she wasted in that. Her character's just mean and arrogant and selfish...which isn't terrible, it's very relevant, especially today, but it wears off pretty quickly. And I know they never gave her a character arc later on in the show; I think the most she does is team up with Parasite once and then cross over to fight Batgirl and Supergirl. Comparing her to other villains like Volcanica and Metallo really puts a stamp on just how much of a Monster of the Week she was.

But that's not even the problem.

The problem is that she's created when lightning strikes a pole and Superman pulls her out of the way to save her...inadvertently channeling the lightning through him and giving her lightning powers. I don't know if anyone realizes that Superman created Livewire, but they certainly don't acknowledge it or make it a plot point. Clark drops her off at the hospital and washes his hands of the matter. The rest of the episode is just him working to take her in.

There's no anger from Leslie that he's turned her into something (but she's excited for it, anyway, so that's also not an issue), or resolution from Clark to fix her. There are several story options, but...no. They just fight. And I get it. It was the nineties. You needed weekly villains, something the kids could come home from school, tune in, and just see some colorful, flashy action going on.

My Adventures With Superman has Leslie bring the lightning powers on herself. Superman saves her from exploding as the alien tech goes out of control, and when he frees her, he gently lays her down on a step....and then, when his back is turned, she's spirited away and kidnapped to a holding facility. He doesn't ignore her: she's taken from him.

Then she breaks out, joins the Kill-Superman squad, breaks out of prison, becomes a mercenary...she's not exactly going through Major Character Arcs, but she's Living.

Or. Trying to.

The point is, the new Livewire brings more to both her own character and Superman's character. Clark isn't callously abandoning her to the prison system; he keeps trying to keep her in line when she shows up, and just keeps focusing on protecting people.

IT'S HEALTHIER FOR BOTH OF THEM.

[fountainpenguin]

Riddle watches New Wish - Post #22

Best of Wish

I enjoy Irep's grit-teethed remark when he mentions Anti-Fairies can't have godkids. He's just like his dad, for real, for real.

If he's this annoyed at the thought of Anti-Fairies not being allowed godkids, that kinda implies he wants one, which is interesting. Godkids were always one of Anti-Cosmo's interests, but never something Foop pursued on purpose or ever expressed interest in.

Please enjoy this cut Anti-Cosmo dialogue from an early script for "Fairly Oddlympics" that I think about constantly:

btw, there are a lot of funny deleted scenes in the old scripts that I love talking about, especially from this one, so if you find anything that catches your eye and post about it, you should @ me because I would enjoy reading your reactions <3

Plot twist - Irep is doing healthy things to work through his "scary godparent for Vicky" trauma while Peri's reaction to Vicky trauma was to cover his ears, hide behind his mom, and sing "La la la, la la la" to pretend she wasn't there.

Peri said his memories of childhood are blurry. I wonder if Irep remembers his childhood better since he was fully able to talk and comprehend things back then.

"Once a fairy quits, any magical being can take their place!"

I mean... Technically yes, but you used to have to sing for it. lol.

The Pixies, who are literally last in line for godkids below all other magical beings (including pegasi, bigfeet, and lake monsters), watching Irep stroll in like: ???

- which imo was implied to be a punishment for their race after H.P. was godparent to some unconfirmed kid I've been headcanoning was Dale for 7 years-

Actually, I like the implication that Irep was so fast to snipe Dev because he's been stalking them since he found out Peri was assigned a godkid.

Irep: Once a fairy quits, any magical being can take their place! Wanda: Peri didn't quit! He was waiting for you to call! Cosmo: He thought you two were on a break! Me: ... ?????? Peri was waiting for Irep to call and take him back? Run that by me again??

... I legitimately cannot tell if they're addressing Dev or Irep. Irep was the last person to speak, but Dev speaks next. Rewinding and listening to the conversation again, I can use my context clues to see they're probably looking at Dev (who is offscreen), but ?? why would you frame it that ambiguously.

Did anyone else get confused here or was that just me?

Also this has done nothing to disprove my previous "Peri is clingy especially where break-ups are concerned" interpretation.

I like how the very first wish Dev makes in this scene isn't for his dad to love him, but for Bev to love him.

How many kids in this class have names that rhyme with Dev and why is he so determined to befriend them all?

?? Okay, so I was previously confused about Dev's friendships because I was pretty sure I remembered him saying in Episode 1 that he and Trev were friends, but we haven't seen them interact at all. I went back and checked, and here's what he says:

"That's Trev! He's my bud, so he probably won't give YOU the time of day."

I wish we got to see him hanging out with Trev. Did they split after Trev didn't come to his sleepover?

- I just checked; I don't see any evidence of Trev at Hazel's. - Hey, did Winn and Jasmine ever find out Hazel lied to them about living in a 5-star hotel? - In conclusion, we are being ROBBED of the Trev-Dev-Bev friend squad.

Looking back, it's very funny that Dev made an effort to introduce Hazel to people when she was the new kid despite that not being his job... including giving some glowing reviews of a few of their classmates, including "This guy's my bud, this person's cool, and I respect this other guy." He wants to talk...

Also, moon is full in New York.

I keep waiting for Irep's music to drop again, but it never does in this scene. It's stressing me out; why did it only drop in THAT scene?

The version I'm watching unfortunately doesn't include credits and I can't find it after a few quick searches, but if Guy Moon did the music for this episode and remembered how he used to do it for Foop and his alt personality when they would do their switch cues 14 years ago, and so when he saw that body language he did it again, I'm gonna lose it.

Surely not... But he had to do it for at least 3 seasons; maybe it just stuck??

I don't see him credited for A New Wish at all on his own IMBD or Wiki page either. idk who did this episode, but I liked it. Hi, I'm the target audience; it's me.

And Irep's still a leftie! Even after putting both hands on the mace handle to smash it down, it goes back to his left when he takes one hand off.

He even does the "sword fight" with his left hand. It's the boy!!!

?? Is Irep's hair both blue (like both his parents') AND black (the color his tuft was in the OG series)?

Are his roots black, but the color eases to dark blue the farther out it grows? That's fantastic!

I like how Peri's hair looks most like his mom's but with a faint slope implying his dad's influence is there, and Irep's hair best parallels his dad's, but he gets his curl from his mom.

Huh. Looks like we've retired the 5 magic colors and now we're just pink poofs and dark blue lightning. Which I'm okay with; I just wasn't paying attention until now. But I know lightning-shaped Anti-Fairy magic was canon in "School of Crock," maybe others.

This does deprive me of my usual 2nd-watch shtick of reading moods based on color. Alas.

I enjoy Hazel rescuing the news reporter, but letting her know that she's a big fan of her work.

Okay, Irep uses his right hand at the last second, but I consider this a win.

I went back and checked frame by frame because I'm a NERD, and funnily enough... It looks like he changes hands after Cosmo blasts him in the left arm. It's hard to tell with the poof cloud, but when you consider the direction he moved (buffeted backwards), that implies it was a left-side hit. It's probably just coincidence, but that's funny.

I like Dev's silly star shades during this scene:

Peri's back!! Old buddies, ol' counterpart pals... I love that teeny-tiny movement Peri makes with his fingers to symbolize air quotes around "quit."

"I never gave two weeks notice~!!"

Also, this definitely belongs in my collection of counterparts using the same body language for opposite moods. idk if we'll see more of that, but it excites me that my stash grows!

I like Peri patting Dev on the head.

"He's still my godkid! :)"

Ooh, snap. Local cousins (once removed) are here to lay down Da Rules, as von Strangles do.

Aw, I like how undoing Dev's cheating means Hazel ends up with the prize shirt. I guess that makes sense; it just wouldn't have been my first thought.

I'm glad adult Irep makes squeaky sounds when you squeeze him. I seem to remember OG Poof making squeaky sounds when he bounced off walls.

Aw, Peri having a happy hug with his parents again! Instead of him feeling like they're overbearing. That's great.

Peri once again proving he's a jealous, clingy ex. I don't think this kid was okay when he was pried away from Timmy and I don't think he took his parents' leaving him on his own for 10k years very well.

I really enjoy Peri's body language throughout this series. All his little twitches and arm rubs and flicking eyes... It says a million words. You could talk forever about him.

I enjoy Dev and Hazel a lot this series, but I think Peri's my favorite. With all his little anxieties and moments he avoids eye contact, you really get the sense that he's working through a lot of baggage.

I like how his instinct was to be honest with his parents and then he immediately regrets it and closes off his body language, avoiding eye contact. He retracts what he said and says something else that he thinks makes him look better. He's got a lot going on.

The fact that he makes this big, decisive head nod as he changes his story to claim he wasn't "jealously spying on Dev" after quitting as his godparent, but he was instead "very normally and confidently passing by" is fantastic. That's... not how people talk in normal conversation, Peri. But I'm glad you're telling me you struggle with confidence issues.

- I think everything I've seen of you supports that. You've been the biggest anxiety ball ever since you got here. - Peri is the guy who'd be on edge wondering if he did something to make everyone mad.

It took me forever to get the above screenshots so I had to keep rewinding, and I have to say... I'm obsessed with that itty-bitty head tilt he does to the left before he goes full right. Idk why it's there, but I like it. It's like a shrug, or like he's thinking through his lie? I enjoy.

Also that teeny-tiny head squirm when he's enjoying the hug with his parents. He's so cute.

Okay, that's pretty messed-up of Peri to laugh with his parents while Dev is in the background really upset. Like, Peri is literally talking about Dev behind his back

-> I wish they'd snuck hints of purple in the background to indicate Peri was there, like a milk carton or pencil or something.

-> I stand by everything I've previously said about Peri not being emotionally mature enough to godparent. His kid needs comfort after a tough experience! Dev just got snapped at and punished by authority and now he's sitting on the ground looking dejected, and Peri's over there giggling!

-> C'mon, man! Hazel clocked on and she's trying to do your job for you. She shouldn't have to do that! (Though it's nice of her to try comforting her friend).

Oop, Dev just yelled at Hazel (again) and Peri did not discourage or discipline him in any way, and tbh... I don't think he even noticed. Because he was laughing and talking about his godkid with his parents. Dude, get your crown in the game.

I love Hazel throwing her prize shirt in Dev's face and shouting that she "hopes it was worth it" <3

I still don't know how to spell O-pairs and at this point, I'm too afraid to ask.

omg, Dev wants to learn about Anti-Fairies. Are we going to get lore and culture? Drama...

PERI, your godkid's running away!! Oh no, he can't hear us... he's got anxiety...

[damiansgoodgirll]

Hello, I came across your post for Damian Priest requests, and thought I'd drop by and make one.

If it isn't too much trouble, can you do Damian Priest being protective of the reader after they were injured? The reader nicknames him Harbinger of Doom in response to a nickname he calls the reader. Angst/Fluff. (I'm a sucker for a fluffy ending). It doesn't matter which version of Priesty it is. He's awesome through it all lol.

damian priest x reader

i’m so sorry i had no idea of how to use the nickname :(( i hope you like it anyway!

nothing to prove

being the youngest and the last member of the judgment day had its pros a cons. you loved how everyone cared about you, especially a cute guy named damian. you and him bonded immediately and even if it started as a simple and cute friendship, everyone knew that you were in love with him.

and everyone knew that he was in love with you.

you were the official couple in the squad, making the fans going crazy everytime you teased each other on live television.

the constant flirting and stolen kisses were enough for the fans to start calling you “mom and dad” and even if it seemed a little weird at first you ended up loving it.

but despite everyone loving you, you started to hate how they all became protective of you. you didn’t matter damian or rhea - mostly damian - throwing a tantrum everytime you got slightly injured, it was cute how he was protecting you but overtime you got bored and even if you told him that, he never stopped doing so.

one special night turned to be a living nightmare.

you were so happy to have your own match against zoey stark. you two were friends but you knew how she could get everytime she was wrestling. she would be brutal and she wouldn’t care if she played dirty, as long as she gets the win, everything is fine to her.

and that’s what she did.

it wasn’t supposed to go like that, you were supposed to win, it was an easy match but of course she played dirty and she slightly injured your back. but the constant hits on your shoulders and back made it hurt more that you could barely stand. you just wanted the match to end so you rapidly tap out, just to end everything.

you were in too much pain that you didn’t even hear rhea attacking zoey and damian kneeling in front of inside the ring.

“you’re crazy!” you slightly heard rhea yelling “i’m gonna make you pay for this” and you knew she wasn’t kidding. she was your best friend and even if that was all a play, you were injured for rhea and that was something she couldn’t forgive.

“mi amor are you okay? estas bien?” damian asked in a whisper.

your back was killing you and your head was spinning. even the fans realised something was wrong when they saw how you couldn’t even move nor stand.

you only felt damian scooping you up in his arms and taking you to get checked. your head was hurting and when damian laid you on the bed you drifted off. tired and in pain.

when you regain consciousness you watched in the small tv inside the locker room how rhea was attacking zoey and how damian was doing nothing to stop her.

referees were trying to stop her but they couldn’t get her away from zoey. damian was laughing and teasing her in spanish.

you didn’t want that to happen. you knew zoey overstepped but that was your business, not theirs. damian was only protecting you but he was acting crazy and you couldn’t handle it anymore so you violently turned off the tv and threw the remote somewhere in the room.

you waited patiently for their feud to be over so you could talk to damian - no, so you could scream at damian for his childish behaviour.

he definitely didn’t expect to see you awake but what he also didn’t expect was to see your pissed look.

“are you okay hermosa?” he slowly started walking towards the couch you decided to sit on.

“don’t come closer damian…”

“what? are you okay?” he asked a little worried.

“you gotta explain why you went all crazy on zoey…that was none of your business” you said. you were clearly still in pain and having a fight right now wasn’t the greatest idea you ever had but you needed to speak with him.

“why? the way your face looks in pain is the reason i went all crazy on her…” he tried to keep his tone low, as he hated fighting with you.

“i know but that wasn’t your business…i could have handled her”

“oh, could you ?” he said back probably too fast.

that was low, even for him.

“i didn’t mean it like that…” he immediately apologised but if you were pissed before, now you were completely mad.

“you know what? i can handle her and i can handle myself, i have nothing to prove, especially not to you damian so if you think i’m not good enough, you can leave…” you knew you were hurting him but his words already hurt you.

“i get it, you’re mad…you’re mad because i overstepped and i shouldn’t have…but i was here backstage watching you crying in pain and knowing that i couldn’t do anything for you was killing me. it took everything in rhea’s power to hold me back from running to you when she first hit your back, knowing that she shouldn’t have…” he started explaining himself and truth be told, you couldn’t stay mad at him for longer than 10 minutes “…i was scared when i saw you almost paralyzed inside the ring…and everything i told her was because she deserved it, i don’t care if she’s your friend, she shouldn’t have done that, so yeah maybe i’m too protective of you but it’s because i love you and i can’t fucking stand seeing you hurt and in pain” he slowly knelt in front of you, taking your hands into his bigger ones “i know you can handle yourself and you proved it so many times now, but if there’s a way i can protect you from getting hurt, i might get hurt from trying princess…” he whispered, bringing your hands to his lips.

you even forgot why you were mad in the first place “you would really get hurt for me?”

“i would take a hundred of bullets for you, i gotta protect what’s mine…” he slowly teased you.

“so i’m yours…”

“from the moment i saw you in the gym training with rhea” he helped you standing up “now…we’re gonna get you checked one more time and when you’re all clear to go, i’m gonna take you back to the hotel and we’re gonna have a very nice and cozy night in…just me and you” he proposed and you nodded.

happy that someone was there to take care of you, and that the person was damian himself.

[xximpressions]

Hope (Chapter 2)

Kelly Severide x reader

Series Summary: Sometimes, we all need a little hope.

Chapter Summary: First day on the job does not goes as expected.

Word Count: 1,110

A/N: The response fro the last chapter inspired me to turn this into a series 😊 Hope you guys like it! 💜

Previous | Next

Chicago Fire Masterlist

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By the time Kelly had pulled himself together, most of second shift had transitioned into the common room and were sitting down to breakfast.

And today, that included you.

Seeing you sat at the table answering Herrman’s questions, Kelly decided to get himself some coffee in order to hear the answers you were giving while his back was turned.

“So wait a minute,” Herrman began, “You’re telling us that you’re a firefighter too?!”

Giving a chuckle at his obvious incredulousness, you smiled as you said in correction,

“Well, I used to be. Back when I lived in New York.”

“Why were you living in New York?” asked Matt Casey as he joined the table.

“I was there for college and volunteered as a firefighter for a while. Then I graduated and started working with Engine 52 for a few years before moving back here.”

By this point, Kelly had made his way to the couch across the room. His eyes were glued to the TV playing the news, but his ears were still tuned into your conversation.

“If you were working as a firefighter in New York, how did you get to become a contractor with the CFD?”

Was Joe Cruz’s curious question from his leaned position against the wall.

“I also worked on a few TV sets after I graduated to help pay the bills and found my love for creating. So when a job came up here in Chicago that combined my passion with my desire to make a difference in the CFD? Well, I just had to try for it. And now, I’m here.”

While Kelly was just as impressed by your story, it was Brian, or Otis as he preferred to be called, that voiced his admiration to the room.

“Wooow,” he drew out in amazement. “So, you like, met celebrities and stuff?”

You responded with obvious amusement on your face.

“Yeah, I’ve met one or two.”

“Why give that up to come live in Chicago?” was Mouch’s question after he looked up from his newspaper.

Giving a shrug, you easily replied.

“My family is originally from Chicago. My dad was a firefighter with the CFD and he worked with Chief Boden here at 51. So I guess you could say I just decided to come home.”

As everyone smiled at your answer, Herrman, who had noticed Kelly sitting a little too quietly, thought it was a good time to ask you,

“If your dad was a firefighter here at 51, does that mean you know the name ‘Severide’?”

After thinking about it for a moment—in which no one noticed the miniscule way Kelly had tensed—you answered once you’d recalled the face,

“Yes, actually! Benny Severide, right? I remember him from the CFD barbecues.”

Snapping his finger in agreement with you, Herrman continued talking and said by way of introduction, 

“Well our Squad Lieutenant over there is his kid. Hey Severide! Come say hello.” 

Turning his head as he heard his name called, the man in question first locked eyes with Herrman, and then, with you before standing to make his way to the table. Holding his hand out to you, he introduced himself by simply saying,

“Kelly.”

You gave your name after a firm shake, then said with a smile, 

“Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.”

Was at first all Severide could muster up. But soon feeling the eyes on them, Kelly quickly dropped your hand and asked by way of a distraction,

“So, you’re gonna be riding out with us today?” he asked before taking a casual sip of his coffee.

It worked as you confidently responded, 

“Yup! I’ll be riding along with the Chief.” 

And thankfully, you seemed oblivious to the tension he felt.

Gesturing to the expensive looking camera hanging from around your neck, you followed up by saying, 

“This takes photos and videos, so I’m hoping to get some good shots of you guys in action.”

Kelly was about to respond when he was interrupted by the alarm that went off overhead.

“Truck 81, Squad 3, Battalion 25, Ambulance 61, house fire at…”

As the automated voice continued by listing the address, Severide, along with everyone else in the breakroom, rushed to get into their vehicles and out the door.

By the time they had pulled up to the scene, it was clear even through the smoke and flames that this house was abandoned and in bad shape.

While everyone exited their vehicles, Chief Boden was doing a brief assessment of the situation when one of the neighbors, watching the destruction safely from the opposite side walk, called out.

“That place has squatters! I’ve seen them on my walks!”

Taking in that piece of information, Chief started giving orders.

 “Truck, send some men to vent the roofs. Squad, mask up and do a preliminary search, someone could be inside. Sixty-one, be on standby to receive any burn victims.”

Turning till his gaze fell your way, Boden said,

“And you? Be careful and stay back.”

Nodding in understanding, you backed up until you were almost against Battalion 25. Then you began taking pictures of the men masking up prior to their attempt to breach the house.

You recorded video of those on Truck as they got the aerial working so they could get on the roof to begin venting.

And you switched your focus to Ambo 61 when someone from Squad 3 exited the burning house with a victim in his arms.

It was a woman and she was laid down on a gurney as Gabby and Sylvie tried to treat her.

“Ma’am, calm down! We’re just trying to help you.” said Brett as she attempted to put on the oxygen mask.

But the victim was frantic as she pushed it away and gasped out,

“No, you don’t understand! It was my boyfriend! He set the fire because of some fire-cleanses-the-soul nonsense. He’s tweaking hard and I don’t know where he went!”

The two paramedics shared a look of concern before Dawson grabbed her radio and said,

“Hey Chief? Be advised, we have a potentially dangerous male unaccounted for.”

Boden was about to respond when he heard the sound of your gasp from several feet away.

Turning, he, and everyone else, saw the unaccounted for male using one hand to hold your body in front of his, and the other to hold a knife to your throat.

Quickly taking his mask off on the other side of the scene, Kelly revealed himself as the one to have brought out the female victim. And now he, along with the rest of the crowd standing nearby, realized they were now dealing with a hostage situation.

Previous | Next

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[nomie-11]

Chapter 4 - To Sleep In Your Arms

<- previous chapter | masterlist | series masterlist | next chapter ->

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“Woah,” Genevieve remarks, taking her seat on the other side of Ridoc, after nearly sitting down right next to Violet who didn’t even bother glaring at her. Just ignored her. “How have I never seen this room before?”

“We’ve never been second-years before,” Rhiannon replies from Violet’s other side, her supplies perfectly aligned on her desk. It’s T-minus one day until Conscription Day, and the last week has been spent learning roles and drinking entirely too much alcohol. 

Genevieve woke up on the morning that Xaden left and decided that life was not for her. And now she couldn’t sleep—whether it was from the lack of Xaden or the practically constant migraines, or the nightmares from watching the life drain from her best friend’s eyes, she couldn’t tell. Nor did she really care. 

“Good point.” Ridoc nods. 

“Made it!” Nadine slides in next to Genevieve, shoving errant strands of her purple hair out of her face with a braced and wrapped hand. “How have I never been in this room before?” 

Rhiannon sighs. 

“We’ve never been second years before,” Violet fills in. 

“Right. Makes sense.” She grabs her things out of her bag, and then drops it at her feet. “I guess none of our classes were this far down the hallway last year.” 

“What happened to your hand?” Genevieve asks, eyeing the brace that Nadine has on her arm. 

“It’s embarrassing.” She lifts the brace so the rest of the table can see it. “I slipped and sprained it on the steps last night. Don’t worry, the healers think Nolon might have an opening for me tomorrow before Parapet. He’s been run ragged since War Games.” 

“I’ve been trying to get in with him for days now,” Genevieve sighs. “Whatever is making my hair black is still messing with my head.” 

“That man needs a break,” Rhiannon says, bobbing her head. 

“I wish we had a break like the other quadrants.” Ridoc taps his pen on the desk. “Even five or six days to just get away.” 

“I’m still recovering from the last six-day break I had away from here,” Violet tries to joke, and Genevieve watches as the entire squad’s faces fall. Oh Violet. You’re so smart but so stupid. 

“I’m around if you want to talk.” Rhiannon’s kind smile makes Genevieve’s heart die a little. Violet can’t talk, and she won’t talk to her, so they both left to fester in their emotions. 

And if Violet talks and ends up getting Genevieve imprisoned, she better pray that Genevieve never gets released. 

“Good afternoon, second-years,” A tall rider says, his voice booming as he strides to the center of the floor, quieting the room. “I am Captain”—he winces, scratching the trim beard that’s a shade darker than his light golden skin—“Professor Grady. And, as you can tell, I’m new this year and getting used to the whole professor title, as well as being around twenty-one year old kids again. It’s been a while since I’ve been in the quadrant.” 

He turns toward the end of the classroom—the one section where there are no seats—and crooks his fingers at the heavy wooden desk there. Lesser magic makes it scratch across the floor until Professor Grady puts his palm out. Then it stops. He turns back towards them and leans back against the edge of the desk. 

“That’s better. Congratulations on living through your first year.” He turns his head slowly, his gaze raking over each of them. “There are eighty-nine of you in this room. From what the scribes tell me, you are the smallest class to walk this hall since the First Six.” 

Genevieve glances at the empty seats, before glancing at Violet. 

“Fewer dragons are bonding.” She says to Tairn. “That’s because the Empyrean knows about the venin?” 

“Yes.” She can almost hear the exasperated sigh in Tairn’s voice. 

“Don’t we need more riders? Not fewer.” It doesn’t make sense to her. 

“The Empyrean remains divided on whether or not we should get involved,” Train grumbles. “Humans aren’t the only ones keeping secrets.” 

Genevieve huffs quietly under her breath. 

“...But the second year brings its own challenges,” Professor Grady continues as Genevieve reigns in her focus. “Last year, you learned how to ride the dragons who chose you. This year, you’ll learn what to do if you fall off. Welcome to Rider Survival Course, or RSC for short.” 

“What the hell is that?” Ridoc asks Violet, and Genevieve shrugs. 

“I don’t know,” Violet whispers back, writing the title on her empty page. 

“But you know everything.” His eyes widen. 

“Clearly not.” 

“Don’t know what it is?” Professor Grady asks with a grin, staring straight at Ridoc. “Good—our tactics work.” He crosses one boot in front of the other. “RSC is kept classified for a reason, so we get your genuine reactions to the situations at hand.” 

“No one wants my genuine reactions,” Ridoc murmurs, and Genevieve rubs his arm, murmuring a sarcastic ‘there, there.’ 

“RSC will teach you how to survive if you become separated from your dragon behind enemy lines. It’s a staple of your second year, culminating in two full evaluations you must pass in order to continue at Basgiath—one in a few weeks… and the other around mid-year.”

“What the hell do they do with a bonded rider who doesn’t pass?” Rhiannon asks quietly. 

Every member of the squad looks at Violet expectantly. 

“I have no clue.” 

Caroline Ashton raises her hand from her seat in First Wing across the room. 

“Yes?” Professor Grady asks. 

“What precisely does ‘around mid-year’ mean?” Caroline asks. “Or ‘in a few weeks’?”

“You won’t know until the precise date,” He answers, lifting his brows. She huffs, sitting back in her seat. “And I won’t tell you, no matter how many times you roll your eyes. No professor wil because quite simply—we want you surprised. But we do want you to be prepared. In this room, I will instruct you in navigation, survival techniques, and how to withstand interrogation in case of capture.” 

Holy shit. This is not something Genevieve was expecting, but it's definitely a class she can pass with flying colors. 

“And you’ll face trials on those at any time,” Professor Grady continues, “taken from any place in the quadrant.” 

The entire squad now turns to look at Genevieve. 

“What?” 

“Well, Violet’s not exactly the expert at withstanding torture.” Sawyer mutters. 

Genevieve just shrugged, turning her head away from the eyes of her squadmates who definitely were turning to her for answers on something she wanted nothing more than to forget. 

“I’m well aware that some of you have already had… let’s call them ‘unofficial lessons’ in survival,” he says, eyes lingering on Genevieve for a second too long for her comfort. “And this class will be made that much harder for you. The other assessors and I will give you all feedback during those trials, so by the time your full evaluations come around, you’ll be able to withstand—” he cocks his head to the side as if choosing his words carefully. “Well, be able to withstand the hell we’re going to put you through. Take it from someone who has survived it: as long as you don’t break during the interrogation portion, you’ll do just fine.” 

Rhiannon puts her hand up, and Professor Grady nods at her. 

“And if we break?” She asks. 

All traces of amusement leave his face.

“You can ask that friend of yours what happens.” 

Fuck. 

—-------------------------------------

The training gym feels emptier than usual, the absence of familiar faces hanging heavily in the air. Genevieve lets out a quiet sigh as she glances around, noting the empty spaces that used to be filled. 

“It’s so empty now,” she murmurs, half to herself. 

Bodhi snorts beside her, crossing his arms. “No shit, Garrick and Xaden graduated.” And Liam and Soleil died, but the two of them don’t address that as Genevieve’s eyes sweep the gym, taking in the faces that have grown familiar to her. 

Her eyes linger on the empty spaces, on the places where her friends and allies used to train and laugh. She traces her gaze over the gym’s worn wooden floors and mats, past the weapon racks, and up to the high windows that let in slats of late afternoon sunlight. It’s so quiet with the third years gone and the lack of new first years. 

“Are you going to be training with me now, or am I on my own?” Genevieve asked, setting her lambskin on the bench next to the mat she and Xaden had claimed as theirs last February. It feels odd to be here without him, and though she knows it’s silly, she can’t shake the feeling of something changed. Something missing. 

“It’s up to you,” Bodhi shrugged. “I don’t want to fill any rolls you don’t want to be filled.” His eyes linger a second too long on the spot on the bench where Xaden used to set down his towel, but he doesn’t dwell in it for too long, instead he turns back to Genevieve. 

She doesn’t hesitate. “Let’s spar,” she says, standing up straighter. Despite the heaviness in the air, there’s something about the rhythm of the fight, the quickness of movement, that helps clear her mind. It allows her to push aside the weight of missing everyone who is gone, whether it be a permanent or temporary absence. 

Bodhi raises an eyebrow at her eagerness, a smirk playing on his lips. “Think you can keep up without having Xaden here to impress?” 

Genevieve rolls her eyes, the mention of his drawing an exasperated groan. “I think I’ll survive, thanks.” She lets herself fall into a fighting stance, shaking off the lingering feeling of emptiness. “But don’t think I’m going easy on you, Bodhi.” 

“Oh, wouldn't dream of it.” He gives her a mischievous grin before dropping into his own stance, his posture loose but alert. For a moment, the two simply circle each other, testing, waiting for the other to make the first move. 

Finally, Genevieve feints left before swinging a high kick towards his shoulder. Bodhi dodges with a speed that reminds her he’s just as skilled as she is, if not better. The next few minutes are a whirlwind of blocks, strikes, and footwork as they spar, the familiar rhythm of hand-to-hand combat slowly pulling her back to herself. For the first time since Resson, she feels normal. 

Except for her everlasting migraine, and this weird onslaught of joint pain. 

As she goes to block Bodhi’s punch, her hand catches his wrist at an odd angle, and without thinking, she tightens her grip. Suddenly, a strange, uncomfortable sensation twinges through her knuckles, and when she pulls back, her middle finger bends all the way back, almost flat against her hand. 

Both of them freeze. 

Bodhi’s eyes go wide. “Genevieve, what the—your finger!”

She stares at her hand, a mix of horror and fascination crossing her face as she tries to wingle her finger back into place. “Oh my gods,” she breathes, eyes darting to Bodhi. “What did you do?!”

“What did I do?” he exclaims, backing up, face ridden with shock. “You did that yourself! How is it even—no one’s finger should—”

“It’s fine, it’s fine!” Genevieve says quickly, but she can’t hide her own nervous laughter as she wiggles her hand, and the finger finally pops back into place. “See? All better.” She glances up at Bodhi, hoping to reassure him, but she can’t help but laugh at his horrified expression. 

“Genevieve, that is not fine,” he says, looking at her like she’s just sprouted a second head. “People’s fingers don’t just bend like that. Are you ok?” 

“I mean, maybe it’s some new… flexibility thing?” She shrugs, trying to brush it off, but even she feels a little unsettled. This isn’t the first time she’s noticed strange things happening with her joints lately. Just yesterday her knee had slipped for a moment during a run, and then popped back like nothing was wrong. But she hadn’t thought much of it. Not until now, anyway. 

Bodhi seems to read the concern in her face, his own expression softening. “You sure you want to spar?” he asks, his tone a little gentler. She may have forgotten that she was pretty much dead not even two weeks ago, but he certainly has not. 

She waves him off. “Please. I’m not going to let a hyper-flexible finger ruin a good spar.” And, determined to prove it, she goes for another strike. 

The fight resumes, but now there’s an unspoken lightness between them, like the weird moment with her finger has broken some of the tension hanging in the air. They exchange jabs and footwork, throwing each other off balance, and she catches herself laughing at his exaggerated expression every time she lands a hit. 

At one point, Bodhi fakes a blow, and she twists her body to dodge—but she over-rotates, her good shoulder over extending just a little too far. She feels the joint slide unnaturally before it snaps back in place. The sensation is strange, almost painless, but unsettling. Her eyes widen, and she tries to hide it, but Bodhi catches her reaction. 

“Genevieve,” he says, pointing an accusing finger at her. “That was your good shoulder, and that was not normal.” 

She rolls her shoulder experimentally, feeling it settle. “It didn’t hurt,” she insists, though she knows he’s right. 

“It didn’t hurt because in comparison to your other shoulder, that was like a slap on the wrist.” Bodhi crosses his arms, giving her a look that’s equal parts exasperated and worried. “That’s the problem, Genevieve. I mean, come one, fingers, shoulders—how long has this been going on?” 

She hesitates, shrugging her good shoulder that now feels completely fine, pressing a finger into her bad shoulder to ease the ache. “Since you-know-what, but it’s probably nothing. Just a weird quirk.” She tries to laugh it off, but his concern is contagious. 

“And you didn’t think to tell Xaden?” Bodhi gives her a pointed look. 

“There’s a lot of things Xaden didn’t bother to tell me,” She huffs, walking off the mat to the bench and easing herself down, rubbing her temples with a sigh. “Like the whole ‘torture class’ thing. I really could have used a warning on that.” 

Bodhi winces, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah… sorry about that. He definitely should’ve given you a heads-up, considering, you know… it’s you.” 

Genevieve gives him a flat look. “Yeah, he should have. Especially considering I’m probably going to be captured and tortured again in the next year without warning. Again.” Her voice dips with a sharp edge as the last word escapes her, and she quickly looks away trying to swallow the wave of anxiety that comes with saying it out loud. The memory of that helplessness, the pain, the dark, all flashes back to her like a half-realized nightmare. 

Bodhi sits beside her, and they watch the others in the gym spar with each other. Cianna and Imogen are at each other's throats on the back mat and it's a comfortingly familiar scene. “Look, I know you’re trying to brush it off, but it’s a lot to deal with. And I’m not saying I have any great advice to offer, but…” he hesitates, searching her face. “You don’t have to act like the prospect of being tortured again doesn’t mess with you. If you’re feeling it—feeling weird or… breaking a little—that’s normal.” 

She snorts, but there’s no humor in it. “Normal.” She drags a hand through her hair, staring at the floor, and Bodhi recognizes the action as a habit Genevieve has picked up from his cousin. “I wouldn’t really consider being captured and tortured once and then threatened with it again normal. I’m not normal.” Her voice is softer now, and for a moment, her guard slips. Bodhi and Genevieve have only seriously talked a few times, but this was revealing a rawness he’s barely seen. 

He gave her a gentle nudge. “We’ll figure it out. Besides, you’re way too stubborn to let this get the best of you.” he smirks. “Weird fingers and all.” 

“Aren’t you going to tell me I should tell Xaden?” She prompts, looking at him with quizzical eyes. 

“I’m not Liam,” he shrugs. “You two do whatever the fuck you want to do in that relationship.” 

She glares at him. “What if I punch you.” 

Bodhi raises his hands in surrender, a laugh bubbling up despite the lingering tension in the air. “Please don’t. I’m already afraid of what your freakishly bendy body might do to me.” 

Genevieve rolls her eyes, but there’s a slight smile tugging at her lips. “Noted. Guess I’ll just save my weirdness for the next time Xaden decides to drop in unannounced.” 

“Oh, please,” Bodhi scoffs, sitting down on the floor in front of her. “We both know he’ll take one look at you, notice you’re the tiniest bit out of sync, and start poking around with that weird ‘I know everything about Genevieve and I’m here to save the day’ routine.” He puts on a mock-serious face and deepens his voice, imitating Xaden’s stoic tone. “Gen, why didn’t you tell me you’re practically falling apart?” 

Genevieve can’t help but laugh, her giggles breaking up the last remnants of heavy air between them. “Yeah, he would say something like that. But let’s keep this whole joint-bending thing between us. Last thing I need is him trying to wrap me in bubble wrap.” 

“Your secret’s safe with me.” Bodhi mimics zipping his lips, his smile fading slightly as he looks at her more seriously. “But really, Genevieve. If things get worse… you know you’ve got people here who care about you, right?” 

The humor slips from her face as she nods, feeling a weight in his words. It’s strange to think that after all the betrayal and loss, she still has people by her side. People who see her and accept her for who she is—weird issues and all. 

“Thanks, Bodhi.” She offers a small, genuine smile before glancing down at her hands, flexing her fingers as if testing her body’s resilience. “It’s just… everything feels like it’s shifting. I don’t know what’s happening to me, but I’ll be fine. I always am.” 

Bodhi nods, but his gaze lingers a bit longer, searching her face as if he’s trying to read her. “Yeah, you will. And if you’re not? I’ll be here to give you hell about it.” He smirks, the levity easing the heaviness in the air. 

With a final nod, they rise from their seated positions and return to the mat, the strange moment behind them but not forgotten. Genevieve takes a deep breath, grounding herself as she settles into another fighting stance. The familiarity of training helps her focus, her mind clearing as she prepares for whatever’s coming next—whether that’s another fight, another test, or another strange twist in her own abilities. 

—————————————

Whoever was knocking on Genevieve’s door at midnight was really lucky she was struggling with insomnia, because otherwise she would have ignored the awful pounding on her door. 

But she couldn’t sleep, and that left one option; open the door. 

Genevieve groaned as she swung her legs over the side of the bed, not bothering to grab her slippers. Whoever was at her door at this hour was going to have a piece of her mind. The persistent knocking grew louder, more insistent, like a heartbeat, until she finally yanked open the door.

She barely had time to process who it was before a flash of messy brown and silver hair and a blanket-wrapped figure bustled into her room. Violet. 

“Violet—what are you—?” Genevieve managed, only to be cut off by Violet’s brisk, no-nonsense tone. 

“I can’t sleep. You can’t sleep. We both need a warm body to cuddle. I’m here. End of story.” Violet declared, already shuffling towards the bed as if it was the most natural thing in the world. 

Genevieve blinked. “You know, you could’ve asked before you barged in like this.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” Violet waved a hand dismissively, plopping herself down on Genevieve’s bed with an exaggerated sigh. “We’re not doing the ‘are you okay’ conversation, either. We both know we’re not. Liam is dead, Xaden’s in Samara, and I don’t want to confront the fact that I don’t actually hate you as much as I want to.”

The ache in Genevieve’s chest flared painfully at the reminder of Liam. She hadn’t let herself dwell on it too much, especially since she was still trying to untangle her own feelings about Xaden’s absence. She didn’t want to admit that she’d been longing for his presence, his quiet reassurance—even if he was frustratingly distant most of the time. 

But with Violet curled up in her bed, hair spilling over her pillow and a weary softness in her eyes, the loneliness felt… a little less sharp. 

“Fine,” Genevieve muttered, slipping under the blankets next to her ex-best friend, the warmth between them a strange comfort. They lay in silence, both wide awake, both desperately trying to pretend the other was a missing lover. 

Eventually, Violet’s whisper broke the silence. “Liam was so proud of you, you know.” her voice was barely more than a breath on the wind, but it suffocated Genevieve as if it was a noose tightening. 

Genevieve’s throat tightened. She wanted to respond, to tell Violet that she knew that, she could feel the weight of his pride every time she thought of him, everytime she remembered his smile, his laugh. But words failed her, and all she could do was squeeze Violet’s hand. 

“Do you think… he’d be okay with how much this hurts?” Violet asked softly, her voice cracking. 

Genevieve swallowed, her own voice barely holding. “I know he’d want you to live. To find a way to be happy again. But yeah… it’s going to hurt for a long time.” 

Violet nodded, her grip tightening around Genevieve’s hand. They fell into a silence filled with unspoken memories. 

Then, Violet’s voice broke the silence again, softer this time, fragile. “Sometimes I wish I could hate you, Genevieve.” Her eyes glistened as she spoke, her gaze fixed on the ceiling, as if looking at Genevieve would shatter what little control she had. “I want to. I really, really want to hate you for not saving him. You have all that power, and you’re the reason he went out there in the first place. You’re his best friend. He was…” her voice wavered, words dissolving into a sob she tried to stifle. 

Geneveive felt every syllable like a hammer to her chest. She knew Violet wasn’t looking for reassurances or empty apologies. She just wanted someone to understand, to feel the suffocating grief that was threatening to consume her. And she needed Genevieve, if only to share the unbearable weight of Liam’s loss. 

“Violet, if I could have…” she started, her voice barely more than a rasp. 

“I don’t want your apologies,” Violet hissed, pain and anger mingling in her voice. “I know it’s unfair. I know it’s not… I know it’s not logical. It’s just—I can’t stop wondering, over and over, what if you had just been a little bit faster? Or stronger? What if you’d been able to save him?” She choked, wiping furiously at her tears, even as fresh ones slid down her cheeks. “I know you didn’t mean for it to happen. But that doesn’t change the fact that he’s gone. That he’s never coming back. And sometimes… sometimes I hate myself for still caring about you.” she lets out a bitter laugh, eyes planted on the hard ceiling. “It’d be easier if I could just blame you and walk away.”

Genevieve didn’t dare move. She could only stare, helpless, as Violet’s shoulders shook with the force of her emotions. Her heart broke for her, for Liam, for the friendship they used to share and for everything that had shattered between them. 

“He was… he was everything to me, Genevieve. My home, my heart. I loved him so much it hurt, and now i don’t even know what to do with myself. Every time I close my eyes, I see him laughing, like he always did, and when I wake up in the morning, for a second I forget he’s gone and I turn over in my bed expecting to see him there… and then I remember and it’s like he’s died all over again.” Her voice cracked as she buried her face in her hands. 

Genevieve felt the quilt settle, sharp and heavy, an ache that throbbed with every word. She wanted to tell Violet she’d done everything she could, that she’d fought until her body was broken, that she’d tried so hard he had to beg her to leave. But how could any of that matter when Violet’s grief was this raw, this visceral, and she had caused it?

“Violet, if I could have—” Genevieve’s voice cracked, and she had to pause, her own eyes stinging. “I would have traded my life for his. In a heartbeat.” 

Violet laughed bitterly, and the sound broke something inside Genevieve. “But you didn’t. And that’s what kills me. Because every time I look at you, I see the person who walked away. And I feel so guilty for even thinking that, because you’re my best friend, but…” her voice faltered, and she pressed her hands harder onto her face as if the pressure would halt the tears. “I miss him so much it’s like… it’s like I’m losing pieces of myself. And all I want is for him to be here. Just to hold him. Just to see his smile light up the room.”

Genevieve’s chest felt hollow, the flood of Violet’s pain filling every empty corner. She took a shuddering breath, knowing there was nothing she could say to take this agony away. But she wasn’t going to keep on arguing with Violet any longer, she had to make her understand. 

“Violet,” she whispered, her voice trembling, “I didn’t walk away because I wanted to live instead of him.” She could barely get the words out, each one scraping against the raw edges of her own guilt. “I only left because he begged me to. Because we watched as you fell from your dragon’s back and he made me promise I’d go to you, to save you. He knew he wasn’t going to make it, and all he cared about was making sure you’d survive. He made me leave, Violet. He begged me to save you.” 

Silence settled over them like a suffocating blanket. Violet’s breath hitched, her eyes wide, blinking as though trying to process words that didn’t make sense. She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. Her face was pale, a storm of emotions flashing across it—shock, confusion, disbelief, anger, love. 

In that silence, Genevieve just sat still and prayed for any god to hear her pleas. She watched Violet, waiting, hoping for some sign of forgiveness, of understanding. But Violet just laid straight on her back, stunned, her face unreadable, and the emptiness of that unforgiven silence wrapped around Genevieve like a vise. 

Desperation clawed at her, tearing her apart from the inside out. She’d laid everything bare, the last shred of truth she had, and yet… there was nothing. No response, no tears, no comfort, just that blank, stunned silence. She felt her throat tighten, a strangled sob clawing its way up, but she tried to force it down. 

But the silence stretched on, and the longer it did, the more the shame and guilt twisted inside her. Tears burned at the corners of her eyes, and before she could stop herself, they spilled over. She’d only cried once since Resson, only in the immediate moments after she woke up in Aretia, and she’d been holding all of her other emotions at bay since then. But now, in the face of Violet’s silent devastation, the dam broke. 

A choked, trembling sob escaped her, and once it started, she couldn’t hold back. The tears fell fast, unbidden, and she clamped a hand over her mouth, as if somehow that could contain the pain flooding out of her. Her shoulders shook, and she curled in around herself, burying her face in her hands, feeling utterly exposed, broken, and alone. 

“I—I thought if I saved you… if I made sure you lived… that it would somehow make it right,” she gasped between sobs. “I thought it would make his sacrifice mean something. I didn’t want to leave him, Violet. I swear I didn’t. But he—he told me to go save you. Just please, say something. Anything. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I loved him too. He was my best friend, and I miss him so much it feels like it’s tearing me apart. I wanted to save him. I would have given anything, everything. But he begged me, Violet, and I went to save you with full intention of dying.” 

And in the emptiness that followed, Genevieve’s quiet sobs filled the space, echoing off the walls until the room felt saturated with the sorrow. Genevieve covered her face, trying to quiet herself, but her body betrayed her, wracked by grief and guilt so profound it felt as if it would consume her. 

The silence stretched, brittle and unyielding, and in that silence, Genevieve felt like a dam had broken. She didn’t know how long she cried, didn’t know if she’d ever be able to stop. She wanted to reach out to Violet, to touch her hand, to get on her knees and beg for forgiveness, but she didn’t dare move. The fear that Violet might pull away, might leave her there alone again, kept her paralyzed. 

Finally, she felt a hand on her shoulder. The touch was so gentle, so unexpected, that she almost thought she’d imagined it. But then it tightened, pulling her closer, and before she knew it, Violet’s arms were around her, pulling her into a fierce, trembling embrace. 

Genevieve clung to her, her sobs breaking into softer gasps as she buried her face in Violet’s shoulder. And Violet held her, her own tears falling as she stroked Genevieve’s hair, her fingers shaking as she tried to comfort the very person she had blamed. 

They stayed like that for what felt like an eternity until they fell asleep, two broken souls wrapped in each other’s arms, sharing the weight of a loss that neither of them knew how to bear alone. And in that embrace, something began to mend, a tentative, unsteady healing. The pain was still there—sharp, aching—but for the first time, Genevieve felt as if maybe, someday, it wouldn’t hurt quite this much. 

And should she find herself in that scenario again, she swears will be strong enough to save everyone.

~~~~~~~~~~

Hey everyone! How’d we like the development between Violet and Genevieve? What about what’s going on with Genevieve’s body? A whole host of things went down in this chapter that are important later on, so hopefully you guys picked up on it.

A little update on me and the tragic hero—i think I’m going to switch to a once a week upload schedule for a little bit. My nausea has been getting worse, and I’ve fallen behind on writing so i don’t have enough prepared to keep up with this once a week schedule. I’ll definitely have one-shots up on my tumblr, but I’m going to be slowing down for a little until this subsides a bit.

I hope that doesn’t bother anyone too much, im just in some sort of a slump right now 😭

As always, if you enjoyed, please leave a like, comment, or kudo, and I’ll be back next Saturday with the next chapter!

-------

Taglist: @awkardnerd , @hannraumari , @minjix , @glaciuswduo , @wolfbc97 , @heeseungthel0ml

[be-the-glenn-to-my-maggie]

ALRIGHT

When SOMEONE who is definitely NOT ME writes the Avatar high school au with Spider properly included, here’s how it should go:

-so my man Jake Sully has been paralyzed since The WarTM (I don’t care which one) and he and his delightful wife (school board hates her) and kids (school board hates everyone but Neteyam) have trouble finding a place that is accessible for Jake. Because of this they all live in a home in an old folks community.

-They live somewhere crazy like Pennsylvania where the drive between one place and another is 45 minutes so the kids are all stupid close and hate (love) each other.

-then one day a social worker drops a kid off to live next door with his decrepit and dying old aunt or something, it’s Miles Spider Socorro here in all his fun neglected glory, and all the Sully kids are like Mine that’s Mine, and he’s Scared but also like alright 🥺

-Spider spends more time at the Sully’s and outside then at his actual house and the whole time Jake and Neytiri are like who the fuck is feeding this kid who did shit to this kid and they’re like treating him like a wild animal that could be spooked but eventually he’s pretty chill and just part of the squad.

-now one day Spider learns that the house, one one Jake and Neytiri have been building for years to be properly accessible and ready for them in like this big woods property with like dumbass little American ninja warrior obstacle courses for Jake to do just arm shit on (I’m convinced that man is buff as hell) and a swimming pool for the kids but also for Jake to like throw them around in and shit. Neytiri’s got a massive garden and some little farm animals it’s all very quaint Pennsylvania woods shit and it’s closer to a better high school (where obviously they will meet the metkayina kids and we can have that romance plot). Spider learns that house is about done.

-Spiders like “oh better spend my last days before the inevitable heat death of the universe (the departure of my family)” and he’s like trying to keep a happy face. No one can quite figure out what’s wrong with him. Jake and Neytiri asked his aunt and social worker if they could bring him along years ago and everyone assumed they told him. OBVIOUSLY no one would leave him the kids would absolutely riot (and who would weed with Neytiri and listen to music in the mornings and who would pretend to hate The Bachelor with Jake and Lo’ak when Kiri puts it on).

-literally the comical confusion continues like they bring him to the house and show him stuff they built specifically for him. “Oh spider look this is your room, the ceilings are high for climbing and we made the sky have realistic constellations for you and Kiri to look at” and he’s like “wow they really want me to visit, I wish my aunt would drive me. Maybe I can walk over?”

-finally someone (probably Kiri or Lo’ak, bonus points for Neteyam or Tuk) asks why he’s being so weird about the move and he’s finally like “because I’m going to miss you all obviously?” And they’re like “you’re coming?? Idiot?? Why would you miss us?” And he cries obviously. I think this took place at the final night at the old house. Everyone insisted spider stay over for it and they all camped out in the living room. He was excited to be there but very confused as to why they wanted him there.

-someone is like “why would you think we would leave you?” And he just says “I didn’t think you wanted me to come” and that makes everyone cry of course. And I’m convinced that Neteyam and Lo’ak do this thing where when Jake is having a serious talk with them they sit down or kneel so he’s eye level so Lo’ak just makes spider sit and stage whispers “when he’s mad you have to make him feel taller” and it breaks the tension a little bit cause it makes everyone laugh

-so then Jake and Neytiri have to have a talk with him like “oops we thought the adults we knew didn’t treat you well told you we were taking you in, we should not have trusted them, go get ur shit and move it over now actually, fuck them, ur done ur ours now.”

-and he’s very confused as to how it happened really but less then 24 hours later he is watching The Bachelor in the new house while Jake pretends not to care who got the one on one and Lo’ak does a worse job of pretending not to care whose on the group date and Neytiri does the worst job of all pretending not to care about how little shit Spider brought with him

-then we get weird shenanigans of Spider learning to be a regular child with parents who care at this new high school with his siblings, probably some stuff like he doesn’t tell anyone when he stays after school and sends Parent Pick Up Pro Jake Sully (he is a stay at home dad who does CrossFit and builds shit in the garage that he sells on Etsy, he hangs out with Tonowari and Tuk all day you can’t convince me otherwise) into a full meltdown. Or Spider forged his aunts signature on a permission slip As Per Usual and because she’s not his guardian anymore people get confused and Neytiri pulls him aside during their special garden time like why didn’t you just ask us to sign it buddy. We will.

-and we also get ur classic Neteyam and Ao’nung plot and your Lo’ak and Tsireya plot because guess who is at our new school?? Swim team champs Ao’nung, Tsireya, and Rotxo, and Lo’ak is determined to join and impress Tsireya

-Tonowari and Jake are both stay at home dads, Tonowari usually works but right now he’s on dad leave for the baby and he and Jake go on walks with the baby strapped to Tonowari’s chest and it does like become every housewives fav hour of the day, but they are both devoted to their sugar mommies, surgeons Neytiri and Ronal (greys anatomy subplot with Ronal and Neytiri starting out as rivals when Neytiri comes into this new hospital but become friends in the heat of some stressful situation)

-Jake misses when Tuk was home all day with him tbh so I can see him being their full time nanny when Tonowari goes back to work just cause he’s not busy and is obsessed with babies (Buffy subplot where Jake goes back to school and becomes an elementary school teacher/guidance consular to help kids like him and Spider with bad home lives)

-he also was the coach of every sports team Lo’ak and Neteyam ever had and both of them loved and hated it because he would praise them too much then notice it and then criticize them to balance it out

-sometimes he comes to swim team after he finds out Tonowari coaches and Tonowari dubs him like honorary coach and Jake is parked on the side of the pool in his chair like “great butterfly kicks Lo’ak” and Lo’ak is like “YOU WOULDNT KNOW GO HOME DAD”

-Jake will not take that lying down so he’s like “okay see you at home for The Bachelor son” and Lo’ak tries to drown himself out of embarrassment but Tsireya taps him on the arm and asks him if he’s been watching this season and that’s how Jake wingmans Lo’ak into inviting Tsireya over for their Bachelor nights

-that is how Ao’nung finds himself at the Sully house for The Bachelor (Ao’nung hates The Bachelor)

-that is how Neteyam finds himself downstairs in the living room for The Bachelor (Neteyam also hates The Bachelor)

-that is how Neytiri finds herself walking into Neteyams room to ask him if he wants to watch The Walking Dead with her but finding him Busy with Ao’nung (Neytiri also hates The Bachelor)

[another-supernova-girl]

Change of Plans - Wyatt Walker ("Ida Red" 2021) x Fem Reader

Based on the following request from @hibiskooks : For the (Halloween) prompts: How about babysitting your friend's / neighbor's kids together with Wyatt and going trick or treating with them 🥹 and/or getting a drink with Wyatt afterwards 👀 This is about 3% angst, 97% fluff, and hopefully posted in time to hit before Halloween is over where requester lives 💙🎃💙 Gif is mine.

(( word count : ~ 950 ))

The sound of giggling children coming from inside the the wrong front door of the duplex Wyatt stood outside of was the first indication that something was amiss. His knock at the front door had gone unanswered, but the curtains were only half-drawn to the side of it, and as he peered through the window from outside, his assumption was confirmed. He stood back up straight, perching his folded glasses over the junction of his button-up shirt as the door finally swung open, and his exasperated girlfriend finally appeared.

“Wyatt,” she managed, her eyes briefly squeezing closed at the sound of something toppling to the floor, deeper inside the dwelling, and out of sight. “Remember how we, uh...were gonna hang out tonight, and I was going to pretend to be scared by whatever horror movie you picked out, and...whatever that led to?”

More squealing and crashing from beyond the half-opened door sounded behind the young woman at the threshold, and a somewhat familiar child scampered by. “I do,” Wyatt stated simply, a warm smile forming on his lips as his gaze returned to the somewhat frazzled young adult in front of him. “Change of plans?”

“Uh, yeah,” she sighed, opening the door further to welcome him inside. “My neighbor got called in for a last minute shift, and I was foolish enough to answer the door.”

Wyatt sauntered in, his eyes following the twin six-year-olds as they chased each other with their respective props, a broom and a pitchfork. “So we're on chaperone duty?” he assumed aloud, wandering to the couch and plopping down, knees falling apart as he unwrapped a piece of candy, extracted from an overflowing bowl on the table.

“Well, I am...you don't have to-”

“Nah, I like kids. I haven't got to take little ones around since Darla hit middle school, and decided she was too old for a Halloween escort,” Wyatt mused. “I ain't got a costume, though.”

🦇

The sun was just starting to disappear beyond the horizon as the quartet prepared to set out, the children donning faces covered in green and red grease paint makeup to match their witch and devil costumes. Wyatt had actually managed to surprise his girlfriend when he appeared from inside the bathroom with drawn on red stains dripping from the sides of his mouth, a ridiculous pair of plastic vampire teeth covering his natural, human ones.

“Well, damn...I hadn't exactly planned on a costume for myself,” she mumbled as she inspected his silly, fake fangs.

“Don't suppose you happened to spend any time on the cheer squad in school,” Wyatt mentioned, quiet enough for the children to not notice, as if they could hear anything over their own enthusiastic noises. Candy was the last thing their hyper little bodies needed.

“Um, ew...and no,” she answered, giving his chest a little shove, shaking her head, smiling still.

“Why ew?” he answered, and she rolled her eyes, stepping in the direction of the bathroom to gather up the last of the costume paint before they left, the far taller man at her back following her.

“I don't exactly want you thinking about teenagers when you look at me,” she mumbled, dropping the makeup into a zipper bag.

“Sweetheart, you know it ain't like that,” he murmured as he wrapped his arms around her from behind, the two of them glancing up to the mirror before them. Wyatt, a full head taller than her and then some, placed his chin lightly atop the crown of her head, his gaze traveling over her features, pausing at her neck. “I got an idea,” he whispered as he reached into the bag she had yet to seal, taking out a red paint stick and watching closely in the mirror as he drew a couple of red dots at the side of her throat. “There,” he stated simply.

The young woman before him stared at the red “bite marks”, shaking her head slightly, her gaze rising to the plastic fangs Wyatt bared in their reflections. “I guess low effort's better than no effort.”

🦇

Block by block, hour by hour, the evening finally turned to pitch black night, save for the occasional street lamp, and the front doors illuminated by electric lights indicating they were dispersing goodies to trick-or-treaters. By the time the quartet circled back to the duplex the majority of the group resided in, the tiny feet of the children were so sore and tired that they had given up walking, each being carried by one of the two adults, smears of red and green staining the shirts they wore.

“I really hope this isn't giving you ideas,” the young woman spoke up as she glanced over to her significantly older boyfriend, and the sleeping child, limp in his arms.

Wyatt's lips quirked up in a smile. “Well...maybe a little,” he confessed. “No serious ones, though-”

“Wyatt, we've been dating all of six months, and you've already spent a month of that in jail-”

“I know,” he huffed, quiet for a few moments before he glanced her way, reaching out to brush his fingertips over her shoulder, and her own fingers that clung to the child slumped against her chest. “Puttin' up with me is stress enough, darlin', I know.”

“I didn't say that-”

“Babydoll...I ain't ever gonna ask you to do nothin' you don't wanna do,” he assured, his steps coming to a pause when hers did the same. “Come 'ere,” he murmured, stepping closer, ignoring the protests of the waking children in both their arms as he smeared the fake blood drawn on his face in a tender kiss. “Now, lets get these kiddos home...just 'cause you don't want any of your own, don't mean we can't practice makin' 'em.”

🦇 🦇 🦇 🦇 🦇 🦇 🦇 🦇 🦇 🦇 🦇 🦇 🦇

tagging : @one-of-thewalkingdead , @gissellec1 , @rainingrabbits89-blog , @pinkflowerwombat , @sashimeep , @strangererotica , @the-butchers-baby , @callsign-fangirl , @hibiskooks , @jessy02 , @charliehoennam , @pinastrihaven , @amethystblackkchaos , @bleeding-heartz , @lucy-sky , @gt-rxn

If I forgot anyone, I apologize, and please let me know if you want to be tagged in the next one

COMMENTS AND REBLOGS AND TAGS ARE DEEPLY APPRECIATED. 💙

[calixcem]

Some post Tsc thoughts! spoilers under the cut :)

I have so many annotations in this book. (668 to be exact), so im just grazing the surface of everything with this one sooo part 1 perhaps?

-Kevin and jean. Jeans unrequited crush on kevin. I need to know more about this and I hope Nora delves into the semantics in the next book.

-Also how this relates to Kevin day famously saying it was easier to be straight. I figured this was a common thought among the ravens or at least Riko’s court,but Jean doesn't mention it once throughout the entire book. He brings up his attraction towards men multiple times ,and there was never any denying it. It was just something he accepted, so how did Kevin get the idea that it was easier to be straight and Jean didn't? Did Jean ever think this way and eventually changed it down the line or what?

-Im a sucker for found family and Nora really delivered with this one. Laila,Cat, and Jeremy are making it known to Jean that they’ll always be there and genuinely want to help him. The dynamic between all of them is so tender and I think it’ll be so healing for Jean. 

-Also I hope we see more of the floozy squad in the next book! 

-I need them to convince Jean to try boba at some point, and i really hope his relationship with food gets better. I really love that he’s cooking with cat and I really hope it develops into one of his hobbies outside of Exy. Let this boy live a little!

-speaking of hobbies: Cat teaching Jean how to ride a motorcycle?? I just feel like it would be beneficial(not to Jeremy’s heart but thats ok) 

-This specific moment with cat and jean 

she ran down to the tide to rinse it off with childish glee. Jean obediently inspected it when she brought it back, and she tucked it into his breast pocket with a cheerful “For you!”

Small things like this just really show how much they care about him.

- What’s up with Jeremy's family?? I really want to know what happened to where Jeremy “tore them apart” like what was the scandal his freshman year??? It was mentioned briefly but then Jeremy just decided it wasn't worth mentioning again considering all that was going on? The biggest “im fine” in history fr. Also when Cat is telling Jean about everyone’s siblings she mentions how when you go over 4 kids there's bound to be one asshole, but she only listed 4. So did one of his siblings die?? I might be reading too far into this but! Or it could be that one of them cut off all ties to the family after something happened? I don't know but I’m excited to read more about it in the next book!

Jeremy has—three. One sister, two brothers. The older brother’s an absolute tool, but there’s bound to be a jerk or two once you pass four kids.” Jean idly wondered what she’d changed at the last minute and why,

- The constant touches everyone gives Jean to ground him and make him feel loved just makes me so happy. 

- also jean constantly touching jeremy’s chin to get his attention??? Hello? 

A hand on his chin startled him into looking up. When he met Jean’s eyes, Jean only said, “Focus on what’s important.” “I am,” Jeremy said. Jean opened his mouth, closed it again, and let go of Jeremy without a word. Jeremy snagged his arm when he started to turn away. “Who did this to you?”

This line in particular really hit me.

-just jerejean in general honestly. The way Jeremy genuinely cares about him and wanting to help him heal 

You are going to be my success story: Jean Moreau the person, not Jean Moreau of the perfect Court.

“Will you help me?” he asked. “Anything you need.” “A blank check is a dangerous thing to offer.” “Try me,” Jeremy said. “I can afford it.”

-neil. Bro was just being a menace and seeing him from an outsiders pov makes me realize just how unhinged he seems to everyone. But him ordering that hit on Grayson without a second thought? Iconic. As everyone else is saying he dropped by to serve cunt and then left. 

-Jean dropping the most poetic line about Neil and Andrew’s relationship and then just not thinking about it ever again is so wild lmao.

Jean noticed how Andrew and Neil moved like they were caught in each other’s gravity, in each other’s space more than they were out of it, cigarette smoke and matching armbands and lingering looks when one fell out of orbit for too long.

-The parallels between Jean and Neil and how they dealt with things. I don't know if you can really call some of them parallels but they are connected in my head bro. 

-JEANS SISTER. Oh this shit hurts from the faint memory we get to the end when we find out that she's dead??? Nora you're paying for my therapy oh my god. And when Jean is mourning her the snippet of the memory of stitching up her dress that she’d get caught in the blackberry bushes???? He genuinely loved her and just when he’d be getting to a point to where he’d feel safe enough to try to get in contact with her again to find out his parents sold her off and she died because of it???? Yeah bitch burn your family to the ground. I hope we get more memories with her in them. 

[b4ts1e]

▀▄▀▄▀▄Sick Days▄▀▄▀▄▀(𝚐𝚗!𝙼𝙲)

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛'𝚜 𝙸𝚗𝚌𝚕𝚞𝚍𝚎𝚍:

𝚀𝚒𝚞/𝙰𝚞𝚝𝚞𝚖𝚗 𝙻𝚒𝚗

𝚃𝚊𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝙱𝚊𝚞𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚗

𝙼𝙲 𝚂𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚍 (𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝙾𝙻:𝙽&𝙵)

𝙿𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚝:

𝙾𝚞𝚛 𝙻𝚒𝚏𝚎: 𝙽𝚘𝚠 & 𝙵𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚆𝚎𝚎𝚔 2024

𝙳𝚊𝚢 2 𝙿𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚝: 𝚂𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚍𝚊𝚢𝚜

𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝚂𝚝𝚎𝚙

𝚀𝚒𝚞/𝙰𝚞𝚝𝚞𝚖𝚗 𝙻𝚒𝚗

STEP 1

<> Since Qiu is a popular kid, it's likely that once they hear that you're sick from either your mom or from Mrs.Murray that they'd ask the class to make get well soon cards or maybe to just sign off on one he drew up during lecture. Maybe get the boy's squad into it as well.

<> Because he can't be there to take care of you himself, he'd definitely make it a daily habit, while your unwell, to come and check in after school/dance. Maybe he'd make a cup telephone if you're that sick.

<> I can totally see him asking his parents to help him make something healthy but delicous for you to eat to help get better. Maybe a traditional Chinese congee recipe or an herbal soup.

<> Once you get back to school he most definitely prioritizes spending time with you for the first day of your return, even if he's being asked by others to hang out. ESPECIALLY if this is a common occurance because of your health issues.

STEP 2

<> From what the public demo shows of step two, Autumn would willingly skip school to take care of you- especially if your mom can't be at home with you. Would most likely sneak in through your window, using the trees outside to get access to the roof (and to hide from any adults who'd stop them). Even if you tell them to go to school and to not worry about you- they'd stay anyways. Much like a cat honestly. "Who made you the boss?" type energy.

<> If it's one of those sicknesses where hot and cold flashes are a promenint symptom, they'd be so quick to hand over their jacket to you for while your sick. They'd expect it back once you're better, wash it first of course, but since they can't be with you the entire time you're sick (to avoid being caught) it's a nice sense of comfort. It'd be really comfortable too, especially if they were wearing it right before handing it over- all snug and warm.

<> The first day you're back in action, they'd go to school with you without much of a fight. They probably got in trouble for missing school by their parents, but they really don't care in that moment- they were taking care of you just like they had always done. In their own, closed off, way.

STEP 3

<> Having grown up and matured, I feel like step three Autumn is like a healthy blend of both his ten year old and their fourteen year old self. Being eighteen now and permitted to cook on his own- they'd most definitely make you your favorite sick foods, be it the Chinese style foods he's introduced you too or something from your own heritage. They'd happily make it for you while you were cozied up in bed or on the couch with his jacket or a sweater of theirs.

<> Qiu seems like the type who'd, if you asked, would wash your hair for you while sick or just in general. Being sick makes moving around harder, especially if you're the type to get extremely weak when ill- so he'd willingly do the simple tasks that people usually do in their everyday lives for you, at the drop of a hat.

<> We aren't sure if they're graduated or if he's in their last year of school in step three, so depending on which it is decideds on if they'd take notes on all of the subjects you share for you and retreive your missing work from your classes, or just be at your side unless something comes up and he had to leave your side for a bit. (They would definitely make sure that you wouldn't be left alone, calling Tamarack over for you.) Doting mother bird energy.

𝚃𝚊𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝙱𝚊𝚞𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚗

STEP 1

<> Tama would definitely be the type to show up, nearly get sick due to proximity, then get scolded by her Omi and Opa to let you get better with the help of your mom. They'd most likely have to explain that her getting sick could affect them more harshly since they're older for her to actually listen.

<> Since she can't visit, she'd make a collection of forest trinkets to give you once you get better. Sometimes she'd hand over certain things to Qiu to have him give them to you- be it something from the forest that she feels needs to get to you asap, or if it's something she and her grandparents made together for you.

<> Would drop by before school or on the weekend to drop off a thermos of freshly brewed and steepened herbal tea, maybe a few handmade and specially cut sandwichs for you. She's definitely the type to peel off her crusts, so she would make sure Omi (the one who helped make this care package) did the same for you. After all- you both are the same with age, why would you like crusts when she didn't?

STEP 2

<> She may not take notes during class for herself, but if you did- she'd do it for you while you were gone. Collecting your work and Qiu's (despite not being friends, she'd do this for you- not them) so that neither of you fall too far behind.

<> She knows that Autumn is visiting you, she sees them waiting in the trees by your window for your mom to leave. She won't say anything, but should she have something for you and can't get it to you herself- she'd attempt to work with Qiu to get whatever it is too you. I won't lie- she'd probably feel really bad for not being able to visit as often as they do, but she can't just skip school or afternoon activities like Autumn does.

<> Never the less, she does her very best to visit when she can- would come over when she's free during the weekend with tea and biscuits for you both to share. If you're well enough to take notice of her insecurities about not being able to do much more than what she has already, she'd likely tell you about them without much proding- but will try to play it off as if it isn't a big deal. (Please give her a bear hug when you're better, she need it.)

STEP 3

<> Remember how I said Qiu would be like a mother bird in this step? Yeah. Tamarack is the same way, it's literally in her character bio for this step. "Rather than the 'mom-friend', Tamarack is semi-jokingly the 'grandma-friend' of her circle." You cannot tell me she wouldn't knit you a sweater or scarf whenever you're resting and/or don't need anything in the moment.

<> She and Autumn definitely take turns taking care of you if they're not outright working together to do so, they know your eighteen now and can take care of yourself, but they want to show you they genuinely care. AND Tamarack wants to make up for her lack of time with being able to do this as a teen and/or kid for you.

<> In the habit of making you tea, she'd definitely still do so even after eight years- unless you genuinely dislike tea...she'll find something to make you that'll help you get better quicker, she promises.

<> Definitely the type to hum 'A Spoonful of Sugar' while knitting or preparing something for you to eat and/or drink. She also believes it works too, because it does, whenever you have to take medicine she'll bring a spoon of honey (clover honey most likely, dunno why but it fits her) for you to have afterwards.

I won't even lie- reading this back I can see a heavy resemblence between the trio of MC, Autumn, and Tamarack to the High Score Trio from The Promised Neverland (Norman, Ray, and Emma). It wasn't intentional I swear. ^^;

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 1,337