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vander-affectionate · 2 years

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Oh god you scared me.

How was your week? I'm guessing it's stressful, i hope you get better soon. I'm always here if you need to talk to someone about anything. Don't go hard on yourself! If you feel like you can't write or things like that you can obviously take a break. If you don't, maybe you can write something about taking care of a stressed Vander? Idk if that would help tho😞

this ask (T-T) thank you so much for sending this sal, i appreciate it. it's been a teeny, inchie little bit stressful, but getting an ask like this in the middle of it is as a good as a glass of water. don't worry, i'll be staying hydrated and i hope you will too, thank you so much for the request because you hit the nail right on the head so without further ado...

vander gets overwhelmed and has lowkey himbo vibes because he thinks a bonk on the head might solve his overthinking, but reader is stressed too. i had complete sensory overload while writing this so i have not edited this yet. reblog, reblog, reblog, and again, thank you so much for requesting this.

Vander huffs, leaning on the bar with a tankard in hand. The bar is closing up for the night, but he's not there to do it - no, actually, you sent him in the back for the remainder of the night after things got out of hand in the Drop's busiest hour.

The tankard slams hard on the coffee table and draws his hands up his face, into his hair, and then back down so the sharp cuts of his scruff stab his fingers when he breathes too hard. He wonders how sweet words and kisses over his forehead from a refreshing morning with you had turned to a sour, bristled night ending with none other than Vander himself initiating a bar fight that you had to break up. He grits his teeth and squeezes his eyes shut because it's embarrassing just to think about. It's not the fact that you had to bash him across the head with a tankard to get his attention.

"Hey."

There you are, opening the door with an elbow while simultaneously attempting to wipe your hands with a counter top rag, not the ones he tells you to use. He can't even scold you when there's some weak version of a flame in his chest fueling his embarrassment. He opts for staring at the fraying couch arm instead of words.

"Bar's empty, Benzo came 'round asking if you wanted to have drinks" you sit yourself on the opposite end of the couch on the arm, leaning on the thick cushions. "Told him you were mine for tonight, that okay?"

He huffs a sound, something dryly amused because where else would he rather be than swallowed up by the comfort of his own. He wants to rot in the embarrassment he's caused himself and he cannot be more thankful for you telling Benzo he was in for the night.

Vander's half paying attention. He doesn't see the way you frown at him or the way you ease off the couch and move around it to come near until you're sitting on the coffee table with a hand on his knee. He jumps and you withdraw your touch. He's surprised by your wide eyes directed at him, rather than the unamused glare he was expecting.

That's all you do for a second, both of you stare at each other until your hand stills in the air, halfway between you two, "is it okay for me to touch you?"

Vander chews the inside of his cheek, glaring at the couch and it pains him to shake his head. He's not sure how much he can take of you tonight, you're wonderful - beyond that actually, but everything is too much and you're- he's... words are a little hard for him.

But you can see it in the way he's stiff against the couch.

"That's okay," you stand up from the coffee table and move around it.

His eyes widen and you're stopped in your tracks by his hand curled around your wrist. His brows are knitted together and his lips pressed into a thin line, his words are clipped, "Don't leave." muttering a please that breaks in his throat.

Your fingers press and brush the inside of his wrist before you lean down to kiss his arm, keeping his gaze all the while, "I'm right here, Vander. I'm sitting over there, is that okay?"

His eyes flickers to the chair you've gestured to and you see his nose wrinkle. His features soften when he sees the upturn of your lips and he releases your hand, relaxing back into the couch cushions and watching you curl into a ball in the arm chair on his right that's too big for you. You're a vision of comfort and he leans his head back into the cushions while you both stare.

"Sorry about hitting you over the head," you prod the area on your head in the spot you clocked him earlier.

He shrugs, "Nothin' I didn't deserve."

Vander watches you curl your legs underneath yourself as you lean on the arm, closer to him. He turns his gaze because he doesn't want you seeing these feelings rearing their ugly heads. He needed that hit, he's convinced himself it helped calm him down and squints as he considers a second might be the hearty cool down he's missing.

"They really got to you tonight," your voice is still soft and he wants it to grate a nerve in him. He wants you to give him a reason to be angry at himself for his outburst tonight, but when he glances over at you he can't be.

Your cheek is squished against the frayed armchair upholstery and your eyes seem more like doe eyes than they ever have when you're staring up at him like he's hung the moon. He glances away and sees your mouth curl up and he wonders if you're deliriously believing he's hung the stars. Your eyes crinkle when your lips push into your cheeks and he swallows, maybe you're playing tricks on his heart.

"Why're y'stressed?" your nonchalance grates something in him and he throws his arms into the air and kicks the coffee table with the toe of his boot.

"Cause!" he snips, "It's pilin' up, shits been falling apart, the tankards need replacing, and I threw a couple of folks half way up the piltover bridge-" he rounds on you with fire in his eyes and he's standing to his full height across the room, kicking the fallen tankard and turning his back to you so he can run his hands through his hair. He swears up and down at everything including the fallen tankard to the accident he had when he cut his jaw shaving this morning.

"I'm exhausted and, I..."

He leans his head against the wall, away from you, and you sigh. He bites his lip and quietly scolds himself because he's being selfish, you're tired too and here he is complaining about all of this. He turns around, an apology on his tongue, but he doesn't get to face you because there's a cheek on his back.

He tenses and lifts a leg to see your socked feet behind his boots. You hadn't made a sound nor do you when you meet his eyes when he raises his arm and awkwardly bends his head to catch your gaze.

"Thank you for telling me." you offer yet another smile and it's only now that he can spot the droop to your eyes.

His lips part and that heated frustration in his chest, releases and unfurls seeing your kind smiles, "I've been stressed too. Thought I was the only one."

Vander turns around and cups your face in his hands, he rubs his fingers beneath your eyes that are only slightly sunken in because he forgets that keeping the bar open for an hour later doesn't only take its toll on him. You lean into the warm palms that cup your face and sigh, nuzzling your nose into their center and he draws you close, if only to let you curl against his chest and he watches you fully melt into him. Your shoulders sink and your fists curl into the fabric of his shirt. You shiver when his palm draws down the length of your back and he finds himself wrapping himself in you when he dips his head to bury his face in your neck. He pulls you off of your feet if only to keep you pressed to him and inhale your scent.

"I'm stressed too," he reiterates. Fingers press into your back, massaging and rolling the muscles there until you're moulding against him and nothing but an extension of himself when he moves the two of you to lie down on the couch, you ontop of him.

"You're not alone, Vander." you tilt your head up and stroke across his jaw, if only to get his attention and he melts into you, sighing and rolling you on your side so you're pressed to the cushions and his chest.

He presses his lips to your temple and rests there, sighing and curling his arms around your waist while you kiss whatever you can reach, his shoulder, his collar, and his neck. He nuzzles further into you and squeezes you in his ars.

"I know."

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valeriesrevenge · 1 year

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As a feminist with bipolar disorder i’m incredibly curious to hear about your anti-psychiatry stance, if you’re open to sharing. Is it just about capitalism or is there more to it?

Thanks! x

Hi! :)

Yes, I’m anti-psychiatry in a couple ways, both because of capitalism and due to the history and continued practice of misogyny that goes on in psychiatry.

I’ve been through the mental health system since I was about 9. I’ve since been diagnosed as having a bunch of different things by different practitioners over the course of my life (ADHD, anxiety, depression, BPD, bipolar, all the usuals), until I just got so fed up with being pathologized that I just quit. I’ve been pretty stable since.

In the psychiatric system, the moment you are seen as having a problem at all you get basically an instant diagnosis (mostly whatever is the trendy mood disorder du jour) and medications.

The medications and their side effects were insane. I was on lithium (their favourite), which caused me splitting headaches and decreased liver function. I was on some that caused restless arms and legs, painful akathisia, insomnia, hypersomnia, temporary hair loss etc. And it felt like a guessing game of how much, and what medication combination.

My sister got diagnosed with BPD (in reality, she has anxiety and a sorta annoying tendency to be dramatic). Her psychiatrist put her on benzos(!!!) to sleep and amphetamines(!!!) to wake up, which just screwed up her sleep schedule and didn’t help at all, obviously. I swear that’s how you MAKE someone crazy AND give them a drug addiction.

So, my problem is that it is largely pseudoscientific, they don’t know how most of these medications work and you can get 10 different diagnoses from 10 different practitioners. They have no problem making money from your suffering and they are enticed to do so by insurance companies. It’s also very opinion-based, and open to male psychiatrists unfair biases about women’s mental health. They have way too much completely unchecked power in that arena and women suffer because of it.

Note: I’m not necessarily talking about people with psychosis, as I’ve never had that and medications can actually help. If any radfems have and want to weigh in, please do.

#medical misogyny #psychiatry #radical feminism #gender critical #gender non compliant #radfem do touch #radfems please interact #radfem safe #radfems allowed #terfs do interact

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gold-from-straw · 5 months

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I’m mad and in pain so I’m having a rant!

Benzos fucking suck. I was just about functioning on Tuesday, sure I had to lie down in the school during lunch and some playtimes and lessons and a meeting but it was just about manageable. I even walked (with my crutches) to the surgery to get my new painkillers (because driving would have been more painful, getting in and out of a car is excruciating).

And NOW. Now I can barely wipe my own fucking arse. I’m as weak as a bloody kitten - I have a black belt in karate and I KNOW my core strength is good from the challenges I can do (WITHOUT injuring myself… oh but a little stress and an uncomfortable chair followed by running for a train with a heavy backpack?! Oh no can’t fucking cope with that. Debilitated for 6 weeks)

I can’t get out of bed without crutches, fear of falling over and doing even more damage, and pain so bad I want to throw up. Yesterday I chose hunger over getting up to find food. I remembered there were some leftover Christmas chocolates across the room and I’m not sure it was even worth getting up and falling from object to object to get them.

Every fucking muscle in my body is lax and asleep EXCEPT the ones spamming up around my nerves. HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE? Diazepam is meant to be a painkiller! I was expecting the shitty side effects, I can cope with the stuff it does to your brain and the ‘fun’ thoughts but what is the point if it’s making the pain worse?

Someone please tell me to trust the process. I’ve called the doctor back to ask him but the NHS is swamped - this guy regularly returns calls at 7pm so no hate but I’m scared that this is worse than what we thought it was. I can’t stand, I can’t walk, and sitting is the worst of all. I can lie down but there’s still nagging pain all the time radiating across my lower back, my hip and down my leg all the way to my calf. And over the last 24 hours, because I haven’t been able to use my arms, thighs and core to hold myself upright (or upright-ish), I’ve pulled another muscle in my groin!

I’m scared of losing what I’ve worked so hard for. I’m scared of my family no longer believing I’m in pain because it’s been so long. I’m scared of the pain itself, I’m scared that I’m making it worse by not pushing through it, but I’m also scared of toughing it out and doing irreversible damage. I wish I knew something that worked.

#rant #back pain #tw drugs #benzodiazepine #tw ableism #maybe?#just in case I guess

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margoisthemoon2 · 1 year

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Falling in Love // Viktor(Arcane) x F!OC reader

“Oh, but I, but I, I can't help falling in love with you”

Hey guys im back with another story!!! Tbh idk when or if im going to pickup my Spiververse story still thinking about it. Uh character is black because i am lol.

This story takes place before ACT 3 of Arcane.

Words: Idk im on mobile

Warnings: None

Anyways Enjoy <3

_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_

Hailie is an inspiriting scientist and Astronomer. She grew up in zaun along her 5 other siblings. Not knowing if she was going to eat the next day or not. She was raised as a girl to stand up for herself. Her older brother was someone you can depend on and look up to. Before she joined the academy in piltover she was a mechanic helping Benzo and little man(Ekko). As she built herself up she became an assistant to Mel who had a spot in the council. Secretly she studied Jayce and Viktor on their inventions. She was highly jealous of her cousin Sky Young as she was their assistant. But that didn’t stop her from taking a liking to the skinny guy with a limp.

“Guys! Guys! Im here! Im so sorry my clock didn’t go off!!” Hailie yelled as she entered the room where jayce and viktor think and put together their inventions. Hailie was fortunate enough to be called in to assist when sky was either sick or had something going on and wasn’t available. “Hails please we talked about this” Jayce signs as he runs a hand down his face in frustration “Dont call me hails” Hailie slightly gritted through her teeth. “Its okay hailie. As long as you’re safe” Viktor says as he throws a quick smile towards her. Butterflies erupted in her stomach as she looked away tucking a lose pink loc behind her ear. “Here takes these to Heimerdinger” viktor says shoving a few rolls of paper into her arms. Hailie nods her head and runs out the room. Progress Day is in two days.

~-~-~-~-~-~

“HAPPY PROGRESS DAY!!” Hailie yells into the room as her and sky enters. Hailie throwing confetti and sky holding a champagne bottle and 4 glasses. “No no please we are working Heimerdinger would be here in a bit” Viktor says shooing the girls away with his hand “Oh come on just one glass we have a some time” jayce says as he grabs two glasses and sky pops the bottle open and begins to pour “Okay okay just one glass” viktor says putting his pen down. Jayce hands everyone a glass. “Here’s to progress” sky says lifting her glass up “And here’s to a bright future” Jayce agrees and we all clink our glasses together and drink. “Okay now get out i need to focus” Viktor says playfully. Hailie collects the now dirty glasses and sky grabs the bottle.

Hailie looks around a corner as Heimerdinger leaves the study room of jayce and viktor. Jayce leaves shorty after “Ill be back viktor” jayce says before closing the door. Hailie hides deeper in the shadows as jayce zooms past her. Once he was out of sight hailie does a quick pace to the large door. “Hey vik doing anything right now? No no stupid” she says to herself “Hey vik. You’re free im free. No what are we slaves dang it!” Hailie says running a hand through her hair. She takes a deep breath before opening the door. In the center of the room sat viktor scribbling away on paper. “Hey viktor!” She said m, viktor takes a peek behind him before going back to his paper “Hello Hailie” he says, hailie Tubs her arm a bit “So…what are you doing for progress day?” She asks “this” viktor replies. “Oh fun. I was… I was wondering if you wanted to join me at the fair before jayce has to do this speech tonight” hailie says taking a few steps towards “no no I shouldn’t. I cant! I have to finish” viktor says shaking his head and turns a bit to look at her “Oh please you can finish that later or even tomorrow!” She says throwing her hands up “You see! You see! I cant!” Viktor says using his hands to show her his paperwork that is scattered over the desk “yes you can crippled. Now come on!” Hailie says grabbing his arm and pulling him out of his seat viktor rushes to grab his cane and catch up with hailie as she pulls him at the speed of light out the door “Ah slow down i can go but so fast” viktor says as the door closes behind him.

The fair is busy and full of people, tents and food. Hailie and viktor has visted about three tents already. “Ahhh lets go check out that one” hailie says pointing to a tent that is selling merchandise. The two walk over. As hailie is listening to the vendor talk about the product viktor gets stuck behind a couple of people. He slowly back away and turns around to leave he gets a few feet before he looks down and sees hailie standing directly in front of him “so where you going?” She says a smile on her face. “Look hails i have to get back to the lab… im not really a peoples person….” Viktor says “please just stay with me. I hate being alone out here” hailie says as she walks around viktor and slides her arm through his and uses her other hand to hold his arm. “Oh how can i say no to you” viktor smiles then chuckles “fine but i have to go an hour before the grand speech” he says as they continue walking.

(Note: what comes to mind during this part is the movie tangled when rapunzel and flynn ryder are walking around the small town during her birthday celebration)

“Gosh i can’t believe he didn’t showcase our invention” Viktor says as he paces around the lab. Hailie sits in his chair a leg up and watching him. “Maybe he was nervous” she says “Jayce? Nervous? Ha!” Viktor says looking at hailie before he continues his pace around the room. “Hey want to come to my place? There is still some time to celebrate progress day. I asked Sky but she said she was tired” hailie says Turing towards the desk and spinning in the chair a bit “I guess… no! Yeah…yeah i could. I need to take my mind off things right now” viktor says sighing and looking out the window above. “Great! Lets go” hailie says getting up and walking to the door.

“Welcome to my lovely home” hailie says as she opens the door and shows her place that is not surprisingly not clean but also not dirty. “Sorry about the mess. My brother was in and we had a little too much fun” she says picking up the darts off the floor and putting them in the box they was once in. “Feel free to sit anywhere” she says closing the door as viktor made his way into the apartment. “It’s not too bad honestly” he says as he takes a seat on her couch and puts his cane next to him “wine?” She asks makings her way into the kitchen “sure” he says looking at the books on her coffee table. “This is the only one i have its 365 Strawberry Semi Sweet Wine Armenia” she says as she walks into the living room reading the label “yes thats fine” viktor says looking up at her. “She so beautiful. Why didn’t i see this before? Other than jayce she pays attention to me and shows that she cares” he thinks to himself as he watches her pour their cups “no no let me” he says as he grabs the bottle gently his hand grazing hers temporarily. They look at each other before he pulls away and finishes pouring the drink.

“Ah hahaha really and it worked!” Hailie laughs as she listens to viktor tell her a story about the boat he made when he was younger. “Yes! Yes! I thought it would sink on the first try but it stood perfectly” he says grabbing the wine bottle pour himself another glass. “Huh empty” he says looking at the bottle “wow you are amazing viktor” she says wiping her eye as a tear from laughing too hard falls. She looks up to see viktor standing up with his cane and walking over to the couch that hailie is occupying. “No. You’re amazing hails.” He says “I don’t know why it took me so long to see you. The way you care and how concentrated you are in your work.” He says reaching up to tuck a loc behind her ear “Today at the fair. I think that i have fallen in love with you. Im always so focused in my work no matter what is happening” he says “But you. You are starting to be important to me” he says leaning forward a bit their faces inches away “You’re important to me too vik” hailie says, the two slowly gets closer. Fireworks erupt. Their lips clash against another. Viktor buries his hand in her hair using his free hand to keep him upright.

Take my whole life, too For I can't help falling in love with you.

Plays in the background as they kiss deeper and deeper. Viktor don’t know what came over him as he pulls her closer and kisses her neck and back to her lips. Hailie puts a hand on his chest to stop him. “That’s enough for now pretty boy” Hailie says running a hand through his hair and cupping his cheeks. “I love you viktor” she says, he reaches up holding her wrist “and i love you too Hails” he says kissing her cheek. “I cant help falling in love with you” Viktor whispers.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

And that’s that. I don’t think I did anything good with this story. Might make another part with some sky and hailie rivalry still thinking. I has rewatched Arcane like 10times this week. Season two needs to hurry up. Ugh!!!

#arcane #viktor #piltover's finest #arcane piltover #zaun arcane #piltover and zaun #zaun #topside #undercity #jayce league of legends #jayce talis #viktor arcane #lol #leage of legends #league of legends #viktor x reader #viktor x oc #Spotify

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weidaoduzun3 · 1 year

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About Me (For Twitter)

So for some odd reason, over 3000 of you knuckleheads decided to follow me. I reckon a new “about me” is in order then. I’ll never delve my name or face on socials. Just a personal preference. I’m 25 years old. Will be 26 in September 2023. I grew up in the southeastern part of the US and have lived all over my state. I am 2 years and 5 months sober from drug abuse. Technically I’m “California Sober,” meaning I still partake in the consumption of hashish oils (wax, dabs, or whatever the kids call them now). A lot of what I post and how I approach my walk with spirituality is heavily painted by my past from living as a drug addict. I got hooked on the dragon at age 18, but was already addicted to the lifestyle, fast money, and opiates & benzos from a very early age (age 14).

Essentially, I center my beliefs and praxis around the Corpus Hermeticum and other various Hermetic tractates. Though I’m also a syncretist and my beliefs and practice are highly unorthodox, to say the least. The core of my spiritual practice is meditation, exercise, theurgy, yoga, reciting aphorisms, and hymning to the gods of old. I worship Levanite Greco-Egyptian deities; I syncretize Asherah and Isis, YHWH and Amun, and worship many other gods and goddesses. I also dabble in the Arbatel and PGM often enough, but not so much since school started for me this summer. You could consider me a Platonic polytheist, a Hermeticist, or just a child of faith. The latter is what I prefer. I also venerate prophets and heroes. The main ones being Jesus Christ and Lao Tzu. Hermes Trismegistos is a whole other conversation. To me, he’s a god, a hero/prophet, and a master magician. I will not defend why I believe what I believe in this thread but I am happy to answer any questions on how or why I think what I believe.

I’m currently working my way through Iamblichus’s Platonic reading list. Currently on the Sophist. I also adhere to the Pythagorean idea that we do not need to escape or transcend this world but rather harmonize with it. Also, I am getting more into Daoism these days. I am incorporating the Three Treasures into my theurgy/silent prayer. Eventually, I would like to become a disciple under a Daoist master and formally learn Daoism and its praxis and how that can benefit me and my understanding of myself, God, and everything in between. Also delving into Musashi Miyamoto’s philosophy, whose influence comes from Japanese Buddhism.

I also dabble in (capital S) Stoicism. So no, not the 1940s-1950s American trope of what a “stoic” man is. But this is not an apologetics thread for Stoicism. All I’ll say is that the philosophical school is highly misused and taken out of context to promote either nasty things or to completely misrepresent the philosophy negatively.

To the nazis, trans/homophobes, and “trads”: This is not the page for yall. I believe race mixing is a great thing, and gender is a societal construct. I will not express any political beliefs or feelings other than to shit on the above-mentioned groups, and even then, most of the time, I’ll block that kind of crowd and not let them use my page as a platform to spread hate. I am apolitical. Recently had to renew my license, and I told them I do not want to register to vote. So, judge me how you will be based on that, I guess. I don’t police my followers, so if any of you good people see that I’m mutuals with someone that belongs to those above-mentioned groups, please kindly DM me and I’ll handle it. Meaning I’ll block the account. No drama, No BS, just cutting chaff from the wheat.

The content I post, are quotes from my readings, the ancient hymns I study, and dashingly long threads summarizing what I read, and just general esoteric rambles. I’m not afraid to be wrong or look ignorant anywhere I go on social media, so if you see a mistake in my rambles, quotes, or whatever, please kindly let me know! I love you all, and I hope we can all learn something from one another. Gods bless you all.

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tussive · 1 year

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Hey so what's up with just people being able to sense that I'm never going to tell them to fuck off so they can just say or do whatever they'd like? Is there beacon? Can someone turn it off please?

I was stupid enough to respond to this guy's post on Bluelight and now he sends me several messages like this a day. And I feel bad, I do, but I don't even know this person whatsoever. Whar could I possibly even say to him? Like he keeps asking me specific questions about tapering Klonopin and I keep telling him I fon't know, I've always just quit benzos cold turkey because I'm a dumbass and also that 'm not trying to just guess at it when if he could cor real die if I'm wrong.

Anyway, just a few random messages not in any kind of chronological order or anything.

"Last night I took shrooms and acid both for the first time in 3 years. Mixed it with klonopin, muscle relaxers, alcohol, weed, meth, and cocaine. Ended up having to Go to ER. Possibly heart and brain damage. Good thing im seeing my cardiologist and neurologist soon. I smoked some meth after getting out of ER. couldn’t resist. I was with a friend. Well I’m out now and have Money only to pay back dealers so no more meth for me"

"Not even tired after all the klonopin and vodka and muscle relaxers. Gonna see a friend and drink and take muscle relaxers and klonopin"

"I build a tolerance to every substance quickly for some reason. Especially methamphetamine. I just slammed and that I have about 1.7 or 1.8 grams left so imma let that sit for after my tolerance break. I’m gonna enjoy this last high before the gnarly come down. I missed one shit and all the blood clotted and I couldn’t see if it was registering so I just sprayed it into the sink. Made another shot. Quarter gram. Felt amazing but not too high right now. Also smoked a couple hits and a line"

"I slammed about .5 grams and dissolved and drank about .5 grams. Maybe a little more. I have high blood pressure and take pills for it. I take them with speed to be safe. I was diagnosed while I was sober so it was from 10 years of drug abuse. Also have a referral for a neurologist for a possible stroke at aneurysm I possibly had last year when I mixed meth, adderall, Xanax, alcohol. I’m 24 years old. And yeah I don’t wanna fuck up my progress at all. So what I’m gonna do is either flush it or use it all cuz I have to make sure I’m present at work"

"I’m not done with the meth. I lied to myself"

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floral-hex · 1 year

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This is a drug post, but, like, a prescription drug post, so… there’s your fair warning:

God bless Klonopin. But also fuck it bc I know it can be addictive and fuck people’s lives up. It doesn’t mess me up, though. I don’t get high, it just kinda stops the bulk of my anxiety and let’s me feel okay. I can get this stuff from a pharmacy, completely covered by my insurance, but I can’t do the same for weed, and believe me… I would suck 1000 dicks for someone to smoke me out now. Actually, I’d probably suck a dick just to feel some human touch and affection. My anxiety is so bad. I can’t over exaggerates it. Constant chills, nausea, cold sweats, racing mind and heart. CONSTANTLY. Every time I think about my hearing loss, I freak out, and let me tell you, right now, 90% of my thoughts are on hearing loss.

So, yes, thank the pharmaceutical gods for klonopin. If only I didn’t have to ration them. I get one .5 pill a day and it’s not really enough. Gotta be strategic. Woke up and laid anxiously in bed for hours before I finally caved into taking one. I have another appointment in a few weeks and I know I’ll have a few extra pills, but the hoarder in me has no idea when I should double up, if doubling up one day would lessen the effects of a single pill the next day, and I have no guarantee I can get refills (probably not, but the nurse was super sweet so there’s a teeny chance). I don’t really want to keep fucking with a drug that can mess me up like benzos, so I’ll probably look into something SOMETHING to help supplement the antidepressants I’ve started. At this point I’d rather be a dulled zombie than have to keep dealing with this panic. I’d rather feel like I’m just going through the motions than feeling this paralyzing panic because at least there’d be motion (ok I tried to be clever but I don’t think it worked. Forgive me, my brain is fried.)

That’s why I wish I could get stoned. Just want to relax and zone out. Plus my appetite has been bad. Most food tastes bland or gross right now. I made a bunch of chicken and rice as meal prep since that’s one of the only things I actually like right now. If the scale is to believed, I’ve lost about 6 pounds in the last week or so. THAT’S NOT GOOD DON’T ENVY THAT PLEASE. It was probably all muscle and good stuff and I feel so weak and out of control of my body.

Bleggghhh. Just gonna get on Grindr and start offering favors for weed. Not really, but… I’m a mess. Sorry, that’s a crass joke. I’m falling apart. It’s not pretty. It’s tiring. I feel sick. Trapped. Ugggghhhh and and and HEALTH put out a new song and I can’t even really listen to it! I mean, I can hear the broad strokes, but the minutae gets washed away in the noise, and I love noise! Noise betrayed me! I’ll never get to really enjoy new music again! Aaaaah! I have to be positive! I have to stay positive!

#don’t try to sell me drugs on this post please bots #I’m poor as hell and couldn’t afford them anyway #gosh two weeks ago I was saying that my hearing was decent for long enough that I thought I could apply for jobs #and then woooooosh crash and burn #just gotta… get used to it. gotta keep trying #just feels like I see the lack of runway up ahead and it’s hard to keep moving forward #blegh I can’t do metaphors right now #my brain is trashed #trying to do research is like trying to read a book in an unknown language. my brain can’t process it.#I don’t want people thinking I’m fiending for a fix #I’m very aware that I can get addicted to things that make me feel good #which saying that may invalidate me also saying that right now I know I need MORE #just… MORE something to help because I’m falling apart #I’m trying. I swear. I started new antidepressants but they won’t hit full effect for weeks #I’m waiting on a referral for a therapist and a second opinion from another audiologist #I’m trying. really. I hate this. I just need some fucking… something to change these chemicals that are destroying my head #I think I should be allowed to be a little extra medicated while dealing with my life falling apart #I need a hug #drug mention #text

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13lizardsinatrenchcoat · 4 years

Text

My new dentist inhaled sharply when we were going over my medical history and I told him I was completely unmedicated. Yeah, me too bud.

#someone get me some benzos PLEASE #lizard life

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immortalbumblebee · 2 years

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Vander Spicy Headcanons

Alright Lovely Readers, don't say I don't know my audience. I remember these being *peak content* back in the day but have never done one myself, but wanted to give it a shot while I work on the next chapter of City of Iron and Glass (sorry for the delay, again, I have covid).

If any of yall would be interested in Silco, Benzo, or other characters, you know how to reach me ;) Be warned, some of these are kinda long because I got thoughts about this man.

Also goes without mentioning, if you're under 18+, please don't read! Not for your little eyes!

Masterlist

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

This man is so damn gentle with the aftercare, my word! Knows how to treat his partner, for sure. You need cuddles? You got it. You need someone to tell you you were a good girl/boy? Search no farther. Need to be left in the quiet and decompress for a minute while he sits next to you and smokes? Sounds good to him. That being said, with the rushed nature of his life, he can't always promise aftercare will last for hours on end, but he does try his best.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

On him, he likes his arms and (although this one isn't obvious) he likes his hair. Other men his age are balding, ie. Benzo. So the fact that he's still got a full head of luscious locks for you to comb your fingers through? He's a little proud.

On a fem! reader...my money is on Vander being a tit-man. Doesn't matter the size, that's not what matters, but you damn well be prepared for this man to be sneaking looks down your shirt whenever he can get away with it. Being able to tease your nipples while you're making out, one hand on the titty with the other pulling you in by the small of your back, MMMM. If you really want to tease him back, this man would go weak seeing your legs in a pair of heels. They're impractical, so they're practically foreign concepts to him, but seeing the way they make your legs look that long does nothing more than make him want to have them wrapped around him.

For a more masc! or gm! reader, Vander is also very much a sucker for a nice-looking back. Being able to drink up every inch of skin if you're pulling off your shirt while facing away from him? That man will go weak. If that back happens to be tattooed or scarred, even better! Like paint on a canvas, it gives him something to marvel at and trace with his eyes as he comes up behind you and kisses your neck while his hands sneak down and unbuckle your pants.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

It is a fandom-accepted fact that Vander has a breeding kink, no question. Of course, protection is important because logically this man knows he has enough kids. But once y'all are in a fully committed relationship and he's getting more comfortable? You're either gonna wanna invest in some kinda birth control pill, or start having some conversations because this man is giving you creampie after creampie, you best believe.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

When he was younger and more of a lil' shit, he would get a hell of a lot riskier with the local of his exploits. Alleyways, rooftops, under the bridge, bathrooms of very pubic bars? Anywhere where he could get a moment alone with his lover, or at least anywhere where he could get away with it, basically. This led to him being caught a handful of times.

Needless to say, that was a habit he cut real quick when the kids came into the picture.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

This man was a WHORE and a FLIRT in his youth! Don't try and tell me any different. Silco had to hear many a'story about his "brother's" sexual exploits in morning-after chats, much to Silco's annoyance. He had a handful of semi-serious situation-ships, and even a couple actual serious things that he would say came close to actual love. But mostly, he was present in the hookup culture and has quite a bit of experience.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He is a simple man with simple needs and swears by missionary. Anyone who says missionary is "too vanilla" is just wrong, I'm sorry. Being able to see your expressions, whisper how good you feel into your ear, manhandle your leg up around his shoulders, and have access to your clit/dick while he's inside you (yes he's a service top, that was never a question)? Yes please.

That being said, he is also a fan of doggy or spooning when in the right mood; like doggy right after a fight, or spooning when it's early morning sex *chefs kiss*.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Although in his youth he used to be more serious in the moment, as he's learned to not take everything so seriously and loosen up, Vander definitely prefers a partner that knows how to laugh. Of course, there are going to be explicit moments that have a certain mood (angry fucking mostly), for the most part, he wants all time with his s/o to be happy and joyful, so yeah, there are going to be moments even during sex when Vander will want to laugh with you.

H = Hair (how well-groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

The carpet definitely matches the drapes, thick brown hair all the way. However...well-groomed this man is not. He'll trim it down if it gets way out of hand and if he has a moment in the bathroom by himself. But for the most part? Nah, that bush isn't being trimmed for quite a while. He doesn't view it as a necessity, and just doesn't think about it that much honestly. If you have a serious issue with it though, he'll try and put it somewhere into his regular hygiene routine.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Although he doesn't always have the time or resources to be as romantic as he'd like, once he finds the partner he wants in his life long-term this man is romantic as fuuuuuck! You got the most loving words being kissed into your skin, all the looks of adoration in his eyes when he's with you, just all of the stuff. Especially if you're having a real moment alone, he's taking advantage of the situation at its fullest and pouring every ounce of love into you.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

In his younger years? Would absolutely 100% every chance he got, probably every day if not twice a day (help him wake up in the morning, then to mellow out at night). But when he's older there's less time and less of a need for it, especially with you as whenever he gets the itch, he'd prefer you over his left hand any day of the week.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Breeding kink. I don't care that I've already mentioned it, it's getting mentioned again. Other than that? He's a switch, leaning more towards being a gentle dom but could be put into a slight sub role with the right person. Light impact play when giving, is not opposed to being tied up as long as the person knows what they're doing. Loves biting his partner, even if he has to be careful about where he leaves marks. Also has a thing about partially-clothed sex. Like, you in a skirt hiked up around your waist or your shirt unbuttoned with him with his pants barely pulled down halfway? It's the one thing about quickies that really gets him going.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

As mentioned, in the past he was a lot more...lax about the 'where' of the situation. But now? Purely where it's safe. The most adventurous he will get is the bar when it's closed, blinds drawn, door locked, no chance of the kids seeing. Other than that, it's his room or nothing.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Man tries so hard to hide the fact that his sex drive is so high. Tries to act all stoic, especially around other people, but in reality, all it takes is for you to give him that look and to lean over the counter, giving him a really nice view, and he is so ready to just jump your bones right then and there. That being said, romantic moments are his jam and he loves when you both sweep each other off your feet. Dancing to the jukebox in after-hours? After putting the kids to bed? Making breakfast in the morning? Little romantic or domestic moments are his whole reason.

That also being said, a strategically-placed instance of running your fingers through his hair, bending over in front of him, kissing his neck when nobody's watching...good way to get yourself fucked three ways to Sunday later.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything that's too rough. Hitting, punching, knife/gunplay are out of the question because, well, you and the kids are his whole reason for giving up violence in the first place. There is a time and a place for those things in his mind, and that does not include the bedroom during sexy times.

Also, I may lose some of you here but...this man will not be down for being called Daddy. Maybe off-handedly in his youth, but once he becomes an actual father? Nuh-uh, nope. He does not wanna be thinking about his children when he is balls-deep inside you. Not what he meant when he said he wanted to put a baby in you.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

This man would eat pussy for breakfast, lunch, and dinner if you let him, no crumbs. He loves having you on your back with your thighs squeezing his head, don't get me started. Overall, he just loves giving oral to you and being able to make you feel good.

That being said, there is a very primal part of him that definitely prefers receiving. Seeing you on your knees for him, being able to grip your hair and slide his cock down your throat and have you gag around him? Fuck that gets him. Although he doesn't like to admit it, he also likes that it's one of the only things that are primarily about his pleasure. He loves his leadership of the lanes, but being able to relinquish control and be taken care of by the one person he trusts more than anyone else? There's something special about that to him. This love for getting head also carried on from his youth, when he would love nothing more than skull-fucking someone in a back alleyway late at night.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Starts out slow, wanting to savour every single moment and focus intently on you and your reactions to everything he does. Wants to remember everything, commit it all to memory and file it away under all the good memories he has of you. But eventually, as it carries on, his youthful impatience comes back to him and all that wanton loving is thrown out the window because you just feel too-fucking-good and he needs to be drowning in you, your scent, and your noises ASAP.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Vander has a love-hate relationship with quickies. On one hand, they're handy when it's a busy night and you're able to sneak away for a second after you've been teasing him and giving him fuck-me eyes all day. But he also doesn't find them nearly as fulfilling as the "real thing". He prefers being able to take his time with you, savouring it and giving you all the aftercare you could ever ask for. If sex is a full-course meal, quickies are an afternoon snack to Vander.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Again, as previously stated, in his youth he was all about the risk. Loved the possibility of getting caught, of pissing someone off, of rebelling and causing general havoc. But now that he's older and there are real consequences, he's far less inclined. One of you could get hurt, or the kids could walk in, or what if something terrible happens.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Bro this man was a one-man army in his youth and you're gonna try and tell me he can't go for more than one full round? Get outta here! Not-quickies, full rounds last long with him; he's determined to draw this out as long as he can, and that's part of the reason he doesn't find quickies all that great. And although he does have a fairly long recovery time between rounds, you can expect around 2-3 if he's able to get away with it, more if you spread it out over a day.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Again; simple man, simple pleasures. Also a tad old-fashioned in some ways. Doesn't really believe toys need to be implemented in your guys' sex life. After all, what can a bit of silicone do that he can't? If you have your own toys that you're not willing to just up and dispose of, he could be willing to try one out if it's nothing too crazy. But he'll need some convincing, and it won't be a regular occurrence. Doesn't have much of an issue with you using toys to satisfy your needs in your "personal time", however.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Depends on the mood, honestly. Most of the time, he won't outright tease you, especially in public or when there are people around. That was a lot of his youthful arrogance back in the old days. But now, if he's feeling particularly troublesome he is definitely not opposed to a stealthy slap to the ass if you're behind the counter with him, or a mouthful of the filthiest pickup lines you've ever heard once you're alone together. His favourite is to slide his hand down your spine if it's a slow day and you're talking to a customer, feeling you shiver as his hand makes its way to lay on the cusp of your ass while you try your best not to show any reaction.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Was never one to be particularly loud. Loves dirty talk, especially when you're about to finish so he can make you just that much more whiny and needy. But when he slips into you/when he's about to cum inside of you? MMmmmm these man's groans in that deep voice of his, ooh boy.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Has totally done it in the back of Benzo's shop one time and feels SO incredibly guilty about it. Benzo was out for the night and he was using it for something or another, you happened to be there with a bottle of whisky and, well... Would actually die if you told Benzo, as he does not want to deal with his best mate ridiculing him to hell and back. It does NOT get mentioned at all, in fact, and if you try and mention it he will go red in the face and change the topic.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

'I just know this man is sporting a horse cock"

Listen, Vander is hung and I think we can all agree on that. Long, for sure, and very girth with just the slightest bit of a curve.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

A lot higher than he would probably like it. In his youth, it was a little out of control, and although it's definitely gotten lower now that he's less hormonal all the time; he definitely still has quite the drive in him.

I mean hey, he needs some sort of release after he put down the gauntlets, I'm just saying!

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

In true Dad fashion, Vander can fall asleep anytime and anywhere. And although he is the aftercare king, if he doesn't need to rush back immediately to whatever job he was in the middle of, he's passing out in a few minutes flat if you let him. He'd prefer to fall asleep with you in his arms or on top of him, but if you're not a cuddler, then he is more than fine to just pass out next to you once he's assured you're happy and healthy and fully satisfied.

#arcane #arcane netflix #arcane league of legends #vander arcane #Vander Arcane #arcane headcanons #Vander headcanons #vander headcanons #vander x reader #Vander x Reader #Vander x OC #vander x oc

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tazzytypes · 3 years

Note

For Silco Headcanons..perhaps :Mornings with him, I would love to imagine him and his S/O sharing coffee together or getting up early to make coffee for him. 🤍☕️

Oooo this is a good one! This is my first time doing head-cannons so it may be a bit chaotic. Please let me know if you have any questions or if anything needs clarification!

Young Silco

What is Silco’s sleep schedule like?

young Silco is NOT a morning person. Working the mines and probably one other job on top of starting the rebellion with Vander has this man tired af. (Also this wasn’t part of the prompt, but I have a head cannon that Silco was a bartender at The Last Drop which was probably run by someone who looked after the three boys growing up)

Is S/O a morning person?

In these days, it doesn’t matter if you’re a morning person or not. You have to be up to get to work and time is money in the Lanes.

Silco is grumpy when he first gets up, frowning and bleary-eyed. He looks like he might kill you, but he won’t. That would take too much effort.

It’s hard not to smile at him when he’s like this. It’s both adorable and amusing.

“Your joy is sickening,” he’ll grumble before trying to roll over and go back to sleep

Coffee is very much a luxury in the lanes. Sometimes you can get some. Sometimes you can’t. When you do, it’s like Christmas. The smell alone will be enough to un-grumpify a sleepy Silco.

If you don’t have coffee, your next best effort is kisses. Sikco will try to swat you away at first. Run your fingers through his hair and trail them down his shoulders and he’ll turn over to you.

“Mmm… persuasive,” he’ll say, making you laugh. Young Silco is a cuddle-bug. His hands are always on you in some way. Even more so when you two are curled up in bed together. If it leads to more, that’s great. If not, he doesn’t mind. Don’t take too long, though, or Vander will be banging on your door to tell you both to hurry the fuck up. Time is money.

Not going to lie, if you don’t wake up first, you’re both snoring until Vander comes and bangs on your door like a debt-collector there for your monthly payment. Scares the shit out of the both of you, but does the trick.

Breakfasts are quick in these days. You’re usually on your feet and running out the door, grabbing whatever you can shove into your mouth in the least amount of time. If you even have food, that is. Some days you have to manage on water and not much else.

You and Silco have morning routines down to a dance. The bathroom is a crowded space in the morning, especially when you have to share it with Vander and Benzo as well. Silco takes up the role of shoving them out of the way so you can have your space to get ready.

Goodbye kisses are mandatory. It makes Benzo and Vander gag and complain. Their antics only encourage Silco to keep at it. He has something they don’t and he will flaunt it any way possible. These were simpler times where he didn’t have to worry about you being hurt simply by being associated with him.

Act 1 Silco

What is Silco’s sleep schedule like?

Silco is now one of those morning people who is definitely of the mindset “don’t talk to me until I have my coffee.” By now, he’s got enough money and street-cred to get a steady supply of it. Not a top-brand blend, but it does the trick.

Whether or not he’s a morning person is hard for anyone to pin down. This is simply because he often works so late that he’s still awake when the sun starts coming up.

Before Act 1 of the show, I can see him having a slightly better sleep schedule. He is the man that makes the rules in his little faction. People report to him and he doesn’t really have to worry too badly about deadlines quite yet. Still a lot of busy nights, however.

Basically, he’s in a transitionary period between sleepyhead Young Silco and Workaholic Act 2 and 3 Silco

HOWEVER, with a long term S/O I can see him changing sleep patterns only slightly. Probably can be bribed to go to bed at a decent hour by you depending on how much work there is to be done.

He also takes into consideration the fact that they share a bed. He doesn’t want to wake his you without cause because he forgot how to keep track of time and is going to bed at 5 o’clock in the morning. Definitely tries to sneak back in very quietly in the early morning if he lost track of time. The cannery is old a creaky, however, so sometimes he does wake you. It’s kind of funny, seeing The Industrialist pause like a deer in the headlights. Apologies are given in kisses and soft touches.

If you say something like, “the bed is cold without you” you can bet your ass this man will make an effort to be in bed at a decent hour for a least a few weeks or so before his sleep schedule falls apart again.

Is S/O a morning person?

If a morning person:

Silco is still somewhat relaxed at this part of his life. Definitely always planning his next step and on the defensive, but he can allow his bedroom with you to be a safe space. The Cannery is a fortress of its own sort and his room is locked in the bottom level with Singed’s lab. If anyone gets down there, it would take a lot of effort

If you can slip out of bed in the morning without waking him — good job. Your movements won’t WAKE him, per say. Man is just clingy. Even asleep, that man will feel you move and slip his hand over you to keep you in bed longer. Don’t mention it, however. He’ll say it never happened.

Bribe him awake with coffee, but not food. Silco hates crumbs in his bed and, growing up in The Lanes, he’d rather not have a bug problem. Place the coffee on his nightstand and settle into your spot on the bed. Bonus points if you blow on your coffee and waft the smell of it over to his side.

Silco is less guarded when he wakes up and is less likely to hide his expressions. Will let out a humm and a sleepy smile as he gets up.

“Is that for me or are you just here to gloat?”

You nod to the drink on his bedside

“You’re to good to me,” he’ll say.

If he has little to no plans, will take his time with you in the morning

Don’t expect much chatter. For one, his brain isn’t entirely awake yet. For two, he’s soaking up the moment.

If you DO talk, it’s about the plans for the day: What meetings Silco will have. Maybe you need to go shopping for some food. The heat is broken again and you’ll need to buy a new part. Things like that. It helps wake you both up into a semi-functional adults.

Please show this man some affection. Sleepy Silco is an affectionate Silco. He will def play with your hair. Give him some kisses and he will melt (as much as Silco is capable of melting)

Morning sex is def on the table. Anything is an excuse to not deal with the “idiots” in his employ.

Speaking of his men, if someone interrupts your morning he will be grumpy and snappy for the rest of the day. Unless someone is dying, he doesn’t care, and even if they are, there are other people that can deal with it.

If S/O is NOT a morning person:

Silco will definitely hold out on getting coffee until you wake up or order someone to bring it to him. The second he steps outside that door is the second he has to go to work. His men will flock like vultures, asking him questions and waiting for direction.

If you wake up during him ordering coffee he’ll turn back at you stretching awake and smile at your bleary expression. Will def climb over you for kisses as he informs you of the caffeine that will be soon to arrive

If you take longer to wake up, he will start looking over papers and plans in the room. His arm will be draped over your head in the pillow, probably mindlessly twirling your hair around his fingers.

He won’t look up from as he feels you rouse beside him. But there is a smirk on his face as he says, “good morning, sleepyhead.” Curl onto his side and drape your hand over his waist and you may be able to get up to an hour of extra cuddle time (depending on how persuasive you can be and how busy the days events will be)

If you sleep like the dead and won’t wake for anything. He will eventually have to slip out. But will make sure you’re awake first

“[she/he/they] lives,” he’ll say as your eyes open. Slipping out of bed, be will come around the other side and help you through the motions of getting ready with him. Plops a cup of coffee in your hands as he leaves and tells you not to go back to sleep.

Act 2 and 3 Silco

Silco is definitely a morning person by now. It’s rare if he’s not the first person out of bed. As the leader of Zaun, he has too much to do to stay in bed.

It’s often that he stays up until the early hours of the morning. He’ll sleep on the couch of his office instead of waking you. It’s likely he’d only be asleep for a few hours, anyways. Definitely takes more naps now than actually sleeping.

Harder to pull him to bed now. He’ll tell you he’ll join you, “in a minute.” May be able to be convinced to let you lay in his lap while he works. Usually, the best way of getting him to actually sleep. You’ll nod off and he’ll carry you to bed, realize how warm and inviting it looks, and finally goes to sleep like a normal person.

Usually is up earlier than you. Will either sneak out of the room to get coffee and breakfast or come by with some (if he was in his office) as an apology for making you sleep alone… again. Definitely plays with your hair as you wake up, settling on his side of the bed and talking. It’s a moment to catch up before the day and all it’s worries take over.

If you wake up before him… he honestly may be sick. Please check up on him. If he’s healthy, maybe suggest a day off which he clearly needs and work with Sevika to lighten his work load for a bit. If he’s sleeping in, he’ll probably take you up on it. Will take a bit a battling to do so, however. Bring him coffee and food and he’ll look at you like you put the Sun in the sky.

If he slept on the couch, you bring him some aspirin with his morning meal. He forgets he isn’t as young as he once was. The awkward sleeping arrangements and awful sleep schedule take more of a toll on him these days. Bonus points if you give him a massage because his neck and shoulders are stiff and sore. You’d think he’d learn to sleep in a bed, but he doesn’t. Too stubborn.

You also have a daughter to take care of. You take turns on wake-up duty for Jinx. When she was younger, she was up before either of you. As a teenager, definitely sleeps in a LOT. You don’t think her own bombs would wake her sometimes. She doesn’t drink coffee, but juice and a morning pastry will have her at least sitting up some. She’s a zombie in the mornings, the best you get out of her is a grunt or two in response to any discussion you may try to have.

If Silco wakes up first, he handles breakfast for her. You’re round 2, swinging by her room to make sure Jinx ACTUALLY gets up. When you wake up before him, it’s vice versa.

When you two have a day off, spending all day in bed is not out of the question. Silco or you will order up coffee and food. Then, you’ll shower together and go back to sleep or, at least, back to bed. These moments have 1 rule: no business talk… if you guys talk at all (wink, wink). It’s rare for you to have time alone between being parents to Jinx and running almost everything in Zaun.

#Silco x reader #Arcane x reader #headcannons

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purplefangirl42 · 2 years

Text

Who We Were Prologue

Series Summary: Silco has returned to take over Vander’s position as leader of the Undercity, only to find himself facing a new challenge. The woman that had once been devoted to him wants nothing to do with him. Can he convince her or have things changed too much in his absence?

Pairings: Post Act 1 Silco/OC (Olillia), Implied past Sevika/OC, Young Silco/OC

Parts: Series Masterlist || Next Chapter

Warnings/Tags: Mentions of death/violence

A torrential downpour assaulted the streets of the Undercity, forcing everyone that could to find shelter. Olillia collapsed in a chair just inside the door to The Last Drop, pushing her damp hair out of her eyes and letting out a ragged sigh.

Lil, Vi is getting herself into something she has no business being involved in. Could you please stay here and watch the bar? Make sure Powder and the boys stay out of trouble.

Vander’s request had seemed like a simple one: watch the bar and keep the kids safe. Her simple task had quickly gotten more difficult once Vi returned alone. There was nothing Lil could have done to stop the kids from rushing to Vander’s rescue. Vi and the boys had managed to sneak out, leaving Powder behind. The only reason Lil had discovered their absence was the sound of the young girl’s loud sobbing in the kids’ shared room below the bar.

Once some of the sobbing had died down, Lil had gone down to offer the girl some comfort, only to find the room empty. She had raced back up the stairs and screamed for Mai, the only other person in the building. Mai had agreed to watch the bar while she searched for Powder. Lil hadn’t thought Powder could have gotten very far in the short time she had been gone, but she had been mistaken. After nearly an hour of pacing through the streets calling for the young girl, the downpour had forced her back to the shelter of the bar.

Lil was at a loss as to what she should do. She didn't know what was going on with Vander or where he had disappeared to. When Vi had returned to the drop, she had said that someone had captured him and that Benzo and a few enforcers were dead. That wasn’t much information to go on, and she hadn’t offered any further details. Lil didn't think three 14-year-olds would be able to handle someone who could take out that many opponents so quickly on their own.

Mai appeared at her side with a glass of water and a towel, distracting Lil from her inner thoughts. She had a questioning expression on her face, but gave Lil a moment to get herself together. She accepted the towel and dried herself off before drinking half of the water in the glass. When she placed it back on the table, Lil sat staring at it for a few minutes, trying to get her thoughts in order and devise some kind of plan.

"Do you want me to get someone to help look for her?" Mai asked.

“Who?” Lil asked in response. "You saw how everyone acted before when Vander stood up for the kids. No one will come help look for one of them, especially since he's missing too. They will probably think that he took the kids and ran to get away from whatever mess they caused topside.”

“They’ve all grown up here,” Mai said reassuringly. “I’m sure all of them will be back soon. They managed to get away from a fair number of enforcers the other day. Surely, they can do better on their own turf."

“I wish I shared your optimism.”

Their conversation was cut short by someone crashing through the bar's front door. They both looked up to see Huck panting in the doorway.

“There was an explosion by the docks!” he yelled. “I saw a few of the kids heading that way earlier.”

“Why didn’t you come say something sooner?” Lil shouted, springing to her feet. “Have you seen Powder?”

Huck shook his head as he looked at the floor sheepishly, avoiding her gaze. Then, as quickly as he had entered, he was gone again.

“I need to go find them,” Lil said, quickly walking across the bar towards the storage room to grab her staff.

Mai raced after her, grabbing her hand to stop her.

“You’re going alone? Towards an explosion and the people that killed Benzo?”

“I’ll try and find Sevika. She’ll help me out.”

“How do you know she’s not with these people?”

Lil hesitated at Mai’s question. She had a point. When Sevika had left the bar earlier, she had been pretty upset with Vander’s decisions. She could have gone to someone that she knew would deal with the problem, even if that meant taking him out of the picture. Lil shuddered at the thought, even more bothered by the fact that she had considered joining her when she left.

“I can’t just sit here and do nothing, Mai.”

"I'm not asking you to do nothing," Mai said. "Stay here. I'll see who I can round up, and we will stay here at The Drop until morning. By then, we'll have light, numbers, and the rain will likely have stopped."

“Whoever took Vander could be gone by then!” Lil shouted. “He could be dead and who knows what will happen to the kids? Even if they didn’t manage to find the people that took him, they’re still out there on their own and won’t have anyone when they eventually return. We need to act quickly!”

Mai pursed her lips in a frown and simply stared at her. After a few moments, she shook her head and sighed.

“Fine. Give me one hour,” she said. “Then we’ll go.”

“You can have half of that,” Lil said. “Then I’m going. With or without you.”

Half an hour later, Mai returned with six people. They had followed Vander from the beginning and planned to see things through to the end. Lil couldn't argue that that was an admirable way of thinking. She made a point to leave out the fact that she wasn't doing this for Vander. Over the past few years, they had mended some bridges between them, but some things couldn't be undone. People that couldn't be brought back. But, if she could help save his kids from suffering the fate of so many in the Undercity, she would try her best. He was their best shot. If the chance to help him was available, she would take it, but the kids were her priority.

The small group gathered together carrying various weapons: knives, clubs, a gun or two, or for some, just their fists. Lil had grabbed her extendable staff from the storage room and attached a knife to her belt. Feeling like she was prepared, she turned to face the group.

"I know you all believe in Vander and the things he's done for the Lanes. I don't know what kind of situation we are walking into here. He may already be gone, or he may be still at the mercy of his captors. But we still have to try and see what we can do. These people took him. They killed Benzo. If we can stop them, we have to take our shot. Before anyone else gets hurt.”

As she finished speaking, Lil heard a slow clap from someone in the room. She furrowed her brow in confusion and looked to Mai for answers but was only greeted with a shocked expression. Turning towards the source of the sound, it wasn’t long before her own face morphed into a similar expression of surprise.

“That was an excellent speech, Lil,” a voice she thought she would never hear again said from the doorway of the bar.

“Silco?”

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this part! Please reblog, like, and comment! If you would like to be added to the taglist, go here.

#arcane #silco league of legends #silco #young silco #silco arcane #silco x oc #young silco x oc #original characters #OC: Olillia

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froggywaffles · 3 years

Text

Neon lights and glitter dust

Masterlist

Request: Can you write a hurt/comfort Ekko x reader, where Ekko and Reader were both best friends with Jinx/Powder and talk about their trauma, please - @/MayaGlitchAndFreinds (on wattpad)

A/N: sorry this took so long, I took a break over christmas and new year :) happy ‘22 everyone. ALso this will contain spoilers for episode 7. Sorry if its bad

Relationships mentioned: Ekko/Gn! Reader (kind of platonic??), Jinx/Gn! Reader (Not specified), Powder/Gn! Reader (platonic), Ekko/Jinx (enemies), Ekko/Powder (platonic)

Characters mentioned: Ekko, Jinx/Powder, Benzo

Warnings: foul language, bombs, attempted suicide????, attempted murder

Word count: 0.8k

You sat at the edge of one of the buildings near the main pipeline that led you to the firelight’s base, the hum of the neon lights was almost deafening. The lights weren't always this loud, they weren't to anyone else, it most likely had to do with the faraway look in your eyes.

Ekko had been looking for you for almost an hour, after you stormed out of base, god knows why. “[name]?”. You didn’t reply, too caught up in your own mind to hear him or to realise he sat down next to you. “Oi” he called, poking your cheek, making you jump in the process. “When did you get there?” you spoke softly. “I teleported. Obviously”. ''Haha very funny” you said sarcastically, rolling your eyes. A moment of silence was shared between you, as you both watched as the world below moved. Ekko turned to you, watching the way the lights reflected off your frame before speaking up, “Why’d you storm off?”. “It was nothing…”. “Doesn't seem like nothing.” he muttered as you turned your head to face him. “Your not going to let this go are you?”. “Not a chance.”. “Do you want to know that badly?” You spoofed, as Ekko shot you a look, which was his way of saying ‘get on with it’. “I heard someone say that they wished we could just hurry up and kill jinx.” you sighed, looking back down to the street below, before carrying on “I mean I get they don’t have the same attachments to her as we do, but it still hurts y’know?”. “Yeah” he breathed. “I don’t want to hurt her, I mean- damn she blew me up, to try to kill me and herself over some hextech.”. “Gods how I wish I could go back to how it was”. “Count me in that wish.”. You started giggling to yourself, “What’s so funny??” Ekko asked, completely confused. “Remember when we all tried to make one of Pow’s glitter bombs work and we spilt glitter all over the floor” you laughed turning to face him again as Ekko began laughing along with you, it had been so long since the two of you could just exist, even longer since you could just be kids again. “Benzo completely regretted hiring me at that very moment.” he spoke still continuing to laugh with you. “Oh yeah, 100%”.

Benzo’s shop was doused in hues of pink and blue from the lights shining into the windows, the three of you sat in the centre of the floor surrounded by wrenches, screws, wires and pots of glitter. “You’re putting it in upside down!” Powder called reaching for the gear you were about to put in the bomb. “How- wh- How in the hell can a gear be upside down!?” You shouted back, sending the three of you into a massive laughing fit.

“Look what if we put this gear here… and the glitter compartment here” Ekko spoke with a tiny screwdriver in hand, You and powder leaning over his shoulders to see what he was doing. “Can you two not breathe on me?! I’m tryin’ to concentrate!” He joked, causing Powder to step back, kicking over a large pot of pink glitter. “Shit!” she cursed, turning around to see the damage. “What did- Oh no.”. “What did you do?” Ekko asked not turning around in his chair, still concentrated on the bomb in his hands. “Uhhh, don’t turn around” you quickly blurted as you and Pow started trying to pick up as much glitter as you could with your hands. He placed the bomb onto the desk and without thinking, pushed the chair out with his legs knocking over more glitter. “Shit!” the three of you called in unison. The three of you spent the next hour trying to clean up the glitter, which included 4 glitter fights. By the time Benzo came back he was faced with three children and a shop covered in glitter. You lot were no longer allowed to be together and alone in the shop unattended.

You missed powder, So did Ekko. If only you could go back to before the explosion.

#ekko x reader #lol ekko #ekkoxjinx #firelight ekko #ekko x you #ekko imagine #ekko league of legends #arcane x you #arcane ekko #arcane x reader #jinx lol #jinx #jinx x reader #powder #powder arcane #benzo arcane #leauge of legends

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ninyard · 3 years

Note

part two of the stefan/andrew au PLEASE

WELP this might not be the part two people wanted but here’s what I wanted so~ enjoy!

(Part 1 ? is here)

((this got rly long so I had to stop but if u want a third part lmk 🥺👉👈))

Neil made his first mistake by not bolting the opposite way when Coach Hernandez told him he had visitors. An Exy racquet to the chest and a single glance at those bright hazel eyes turned Neils entire world sideways in seconds. This couldn’t be happening. Neil almost couldn’t hold back the ‘Andrew?’ that wished to escape his lips. Of course, this wasn’t Stefan’s Andrew, but Neil knew that already. Life had turned Andrew Minyard into a man of manufactured emotions, a life of violence and misled decisions landing him on Coach Wymack’s pity party guest list that was the Foxes’ lineup. Andrew didn’t flinch looking at Neil, and Neil begged the universe to have erased the memory of Stefan from Andrew mind. He hung around a motel, for Christ’s sake, how many other people would he have met before and after Stefan? Neil Josten looked totally different, with puberty, hair dye and new contact lenses on his side.

The second mistake he made was not realising Kevin Day was going to be around. If Andrew wasn’t dangerous enough, Kevin was even more so. Neil couldn’t believe his eyes the moment he looked closely at the teams lineup from the previous year. Kevin Day would have forgotten Nathaniel Wesninski, he was sure of it, but to look across to a picture of the teams goalkeeper and seeing the short blond boy he met in California? It was a sure sign for Neil to stay the hell away from South Carolina.

Neil’s biggest mistake was deciding to push his luck and take a plane there to sign with the Foxes. He was signing a death wish; but he didn’t care anymore. He was a dead man walking, living off stolen hours. It was only a matter of time before someone caught up with him. His mother was dead, god, his mom, Mary Hatford, the woman who taught him how to be. It wasn’t just like Debby, who died leaving Toronto, or Alice, who died leaving London, or Judy who died on the train between Germany and Prague. This was permanent, and Neil didn’t think he could run for much longer.

Andrew didn’t say anything during their meeting, in which he had plenty of opportunities to at least look like he recognised Neil, or the features of Stefan still left on his face. Kevin didn’t say anything either, and his words made it clear he didn’t remember Nathaniel, either. Neil was walking a thing line between life and death, with Stefan on one shoulder and Nathaniel on the other, waiting to tip him over, to expose the truth, to leave him buried like his mother.

The first night Neil slept - or more so lay on the couch in silence for hours, brain filled with noise and regret - in David’s apartment, he couldn’t stop thinking about Andrew. He couldn’t stop thinking about the kid with white-blond hair and a toothy smile, who ran his fingers so gently over Stefan’s skin, like he would break if Andrew dared get any closer. He couldn’t stop thinking about the playground, and the motel, and the kisses… and the punches, the kicks, the pulling of hair, the slaps across the face with yells to accompany them. Before Neil knew it he was stuck with his face hovering over the toilet bowl, his stomach threatening to burst at any moment. After a minute of gagging and spitting into the water, Neil washed his face and headed towards the balcony that David told him to smoke on if he needed to. This was one of those needing to moments.

Weeks went by without any indication he was going to be caught. Kevin looked at him like a stupid amateur, which was good for Nathaniel’s sake, but for Neil? Neil, who fought like his life depended on the racquet in his hands? Neil, who ran like his father was hot on his heels every single time he set off down the court? It hurt him to be insulted so often, but Kevin was leagues above him when he played. Neil was never going to be good enough. Andrew avoided him as much as possible. Nicky told him that was just how Andrew was; if you brought him no benefit, or if you made him bored, he would put you on a high shelf and never look at you again. By the way Andrew only spoke to Neil when Neil stood up to Kevin, Neil thought it was obvious that Andrew didn’t recognise him.

And then came the invite to Columbia.

“Get rid of the contacts, by the way.” Nicky had brushed off the realisation like it was nothing. It sounded like ‘you have something in your teeth’ but felt like a screaming siren above Neil’s head. It felt like a punch to the gut, like a gun to his head. “Andrew’s decision. And brown, Neil? You’re so predictable and boring it’s adorable.” He’d left a bag of clothes with Neil.

When Neil looked at his blue eyes, he felt too many feelings he couldn’t describe, or name. He felt like he was looking at his father. He felt like he was looking into the mirror like he had the last time he was Nathaniel. The last time he was in Baltimore. He’d cycled through the catalogue of contacts during his time on the run, but never once went back to blue. They were the icy eyes of a murderer, not the eyes of quiet, boring Neil. But at least they weren’t green. Neil was worried about Kevin recognising him by his eyes, but it was going to be dark out by the time they left. Neil would just have to stay in the dark around Kevin, and hope he got too drunk to notice, too drunk to remember.

When Andrew’s group came to pick Neil up, there was a change in dynamic Neil hadn’t seen before. Instead of Nicky being the middle man in their conversations, or Kevin being the reason to talk, Andrew was taking charge of their night. Neil’s heart raced every time he looked into his eyes. Every time he heard that voice it told him to run, the same voice as before, only deeper, emotionless. Neil couldn’t imagine this Andrew crying. Neil couldn’t imagine this Andrew being open, about his sexuality, or his feelings. If he didn’t look almost the same only older, he would probably doubt this was even the same Andrew.

“Oh! Oh, now, that’s interesting!” Andrew had commented as Neil left his dorm room. Nicky, Aaron and Kevin had walked ahead of the two of them. When they’d disappeared around the corner into the elevator down, Andrew turned and grabbed Neil’s face to inspect it. “What a change, hmm? Blue to brown is a bit drastic for fashion, don’t you think?”

“I’ve never liked my eyes,” Neil spoke through the fingers that rested over his lips. “I’ve worn them brown most my life.” Andrew tutted as Neil spoke, but left that thought there. His features were angry, like Neil had insulted him, but he S miled like he’d been talking to his best friend. He placed a cigarette between his lips as they joined the others in the elevator.

Before long, they were walking through the doors of Eden’s Twilight, music pumping and swirling through the air, vibrating their bodies as they walked. Andrew motioned for Neil to follow him to the bar once they’d found a table.

“Shots on me.” He’d come down from his manic high, waiting for his dust adrenaline to kick in. His smile was gone, but his tone and way of speaking was still the same. “What do you drink?”

“I don’t,” Neil answered, having to yell over the music.

“Sure you do.” Andrew waved him off. “I’m being polite. What do you drink?” He asked again, as the bartender came over.

“A coke for me.” Neil told the man behind the bar before he could ask Andrew. “Just a little ice.”

“See, now, Pinocchio, when someone offers you a gift you say thank you and accept it.” Andrew turned towards the man. “Roland. This is Neil. He’s a newbie.”

“I hear you,” Roland nodded, already placing shot glasses on the tray he’d put on the bar. “My choice, with dash for the new kid.” He poured a clear spirit into eight shot glasses, and used the fountain tap to fill a larger glass with cola. Andrew passed cash over and waved off his change as a tip. Before Neil knew it he was heading through the crowd, Andrew balancing the tray on one hand held high above his head. They reached the table and nothing has spilled, and before Neil knew it, the shot glasses were stacked in a tower on the tray as Neil nursed his coke.

“You don’t drink.” Andrew turned to Neil after watching the others take to the dance floor, coming up on their high, dusting when they couldn’t be seen. “Why?”

“Hate the taste, mostly.” That would be the truth if ‘taste’ actually meant ‘feeling of being out of control of my body’. He shrugged at Andrew’s dissatisfaction with that answer.

“You come to university and you don’t drink?” Andrew scoffed. “Do you smoke?” Neil shook his head. He’d tried an edible by accident once in some cafe in Europe, and got so paranoid they had to move on that night. He swore he saw his dad staring in the windows in the red-light district, a blunt between his lips, a smile made of murder wrapped around it.

“Not for me.” Neil took a sip from the cold coke. “Hard to find when it’s not legal and I hate the cops. Takes too much effort to roll.” Neil lied, like he knew what he was talking about, but he just remembered watching people in the cities he went to, everywhere having their local stoners, the folks who sat in the parks without a care in the world.

“You don’t drink, you don’t smoke, you won’t dust.” Andrew rattled off the options. “Is it molly you’d prefer?” And when Neil shook his head again: “Psychedelics? Benzos?”

“I’m just not interested.” Neil looked into his glass, focusing on the ice. If he kept looking at Andrew he felt like he would crack. “Don’t we get tested before games anyway? What’s the point?” Andrew didn’t answer before he heading back up the bar. Neil didn’t follow this time. When he came back, there was ten shot glasses on the table. Again, eight filled with an unnamed spirit that burned Neil’s nose and twisted his stomach. The other two were cola.

“I’d hate for the new boy to feel left out.” Aaron, Nicky and Kevin had arrived back to the table for their shots. Andrew handed Neil one of his glasses. Neil knocked it back when the others did. It was ordinary coke, no surprises, no weird tastes, no reason for Neil to believe Andrew would have given him a shot of alcohol instead. That was, until he clinked glasses with the others and swallowed the second shot in a quick movement. He felt the alcohol burn his throat. It warmed his chest, but the familiar feeling wasn’t what worried him. It was the taste of salt on his tongue when he hadn’t licked any before hand. He quickly excused himself from the table and left for the bathroom.

Andrew had drugged him. He didn’t know why, but all he knew was the crackers were already coursing through his veins with deadly adrenaline. He was sure his racing heart wasn’t helping. It didn’t help, either, when Nicky reached the stairs before he did, and pulled him in for a salty, dusty kiss. Neil pushed him off as discreetly as he could.

“Nothing?” Nicky complained as he Neil bounced up the sticky stairs two steps at a time. Neil was sure he heard him say something about Neil being too hot to be straight, but the roaring anxiety in his ears was enough to drown it out. He locked himself in a stall and tried to best to throw up. He hadn’t eaten before he’d left, and he hadn’t drank anything other than he soda, so his attempts were fairly futile. A knock at the door interrupted him, and when he answered with a quick ‘occupied!’ He heard the door unlocking from the outside. Andrew pushed his way into the cramped stall and shut the door behind him. Before Neil could even begin to object Andrew had grabbed him by the collar and shoved him against the wall, Neil struggling to keep his balance with the toilet in the way.

“You don’t like the taste of alcohol or you’re afraid of losing control? Telling your truths?” Andrew’s drug induced smile had returned with mischief and malice. “Let’s see how this does!” His voice was low as he spoke, with an enthusiasm to his words that made Neil sweat. When he went to protest, Andrew covered his mouth with his free hand.

“Shut up,” He clicked his tongue. “You have spent your entire extended stay here lying to me and lying to poor, gullible Coach. I see the way you look at Kevin, too. Either you’re lying about not swinging or there’s something deeper to that intimidation.” Neil tried to get out a ‘I don’t swing.’ Before Andrew shushed him again. “Don’t keep lying, newbie! One last chance at honesty.” He lifted his hand no more than an inch from Neil’s mouth. Neil was sweating, his hands shaky, his mind turning into fog, desperate to cling to any sort of euphoria it could find. When it’s search came up empty, it filled his stomach, his head, his hands, his feet, with anxious buzzing instead. He couldn’t ignore the nauseating feelings the drugs brought with them.

“I don’t swing,” Neil stood his ground. “I don’t.” Andrew brought his hand up to Neils hair and yanked him down to his level, hard. He kept an inescapable grip in his curls as their faces almost touched.

“Still don’t know?” Andrew pouted in fake-pity. “Ten years later and you still don’t know?” Neil’s stomach would’ve fallen from his body if it’s got the chance. His heart would’ve went with it when Andrew continued. “There better be a good reason for Neil existing, Stefan, and I can’t wait to hear it.”

“What?” He tried, but it was no use. His voice failed him, cracking as the futile attempts at lying left his lips. “I don’t know what-“

“Shut up.” Andrew repeated. His grip not relaxing. Neil was worried he was pulling his hair from the root, but that was probably the least of his worries. Probably. “Do not lie to me again.” Neil searched his eyes for a sliver of doubt. A tiny, tiny possibility that he might think he was wrong. It wasn’t there. He’d been caught.

“Andrew.” He wrapped his hands around Andrew’s wrist, the one hovering over his head, muscles tense from the grip on his head. “Can we talk without ripping my fucking hair out?”

Before Neil could react, Andrew had let go of his hair, but in doing so, had swung his head with full force into the side walls of the stall. His balance finally failed him, but Andrew caught him by the neck of the black turtleneck he’d been gifted. He heard a few stitches pop, but it didn’t matter. The sudden movements turned Neil’s stomach with a violent wave, and he gagged hard, his stomach threatening to come out his mouth. He leaned over to spit into the toilet and bared his teeth at Andrew, breathing heavily through them.

“So he lives,” Andrew smiled, his pupils blown, a white-knuckled hold on Stefan-Neil’s collar. Neil was afraid he was going to pass out. His body was on fire, his mind screaming like an emergency broadcast alarm. “Tell me you didn’t know, oh humour me! I’d hate to think you’re stupid enough to come here still in possession of the memory from there.”

“I didn’t think you’d remember.” Neil didn’t break eye contact.

“So you ARE that stupid!” Andrew pushed him back, letting go of his top. Neil tried to assess his escape routes, but it was no use. He couldn’t get out of this. “I remembered little Stefan the second Kevin showed me your file. I didn’t think it would be you, surely it couldn’t be, but our little visit to fuckport, Arizona couldn’t lie to me like you did. So is it Neil, or is it Stefan?”

“Neither.” He spat out the honesty, worried if he waited, another lie would take it’s place. “But you can call me Neil.”

“Oh, no, no!” Andrew grabbed him by the neck, holding his jaw in a way that could become a choke very quickly. “Maybe I’ll stick with Stefan. You don’t get a say. You know, I thought mommy killed you.” A knife twisted in Neil’s gut.

“She’s dead.” Neil tried to breath through his unwanted come-up. “That’s the only reason I’m here. Because she wasn’t alive to stop me.”

“Did you do it?” He held Neils face like the world would end if he let go. He held even tighter when Neil tried to pull away.

“No.” That was all he said. He thought about continuing, considering the fact he was a dead man already. But he stopped himself. How could he say it was his dad without saying he was the mafias right-hand-murderer? Was he wasting his time lying?

“Didn’t think you did.” Andrew laughed, barely even blinking as he intimidated Neil. “No balls then, no balls now.”

“I was twelve.” He spat through crushed cheeks. “We were kids.”

“Old enough to be a liar.” Andrew let go of Neil’s face with a forceful push and turned to open the stall door. “You’re going to lead us outside. If you deviate or try to run I’ll kill you. I will kill you.” So Neil did just that. He led the way in silence, down the stairs and towards the exit. When Nicky stopped and excitedly asked where they were going, Neil looked back to Andrew who waved his pack of cigarettes, a smile on his face, no essence of a lie present. Neil just kept walking, kept his head down, and tried to ignore the pain on the side of his head. When they reached the outside of the club, the brisk air biting their exposed skin, Neil turned to the first man he saw, a club-goer at the top of the queue, and swung a punch up. Andrew noticed the second his hands left his sides, balled up with a plan. The man threw a hefty punch back, shouting intimidations, knocking Neil’s short frame to the ground. As quick as humanly possible, Andrew had hoisted him up, wrapped his arms around his back and twisted his wrist in such a way that a single jolt would break it. He held him in that position with one hand, putting all his strength into keeping Neil still.

“He gets crazy on tequila!” Andrew laughed, shaking his head as he took out his wallet and pulled out a fifty note. He threw it at the guy as compensation, his friends holding him back from beating Neil’s vulnerable, ballsy ass. He continued yelling as Andrew hauled him away. He grunted in pain as he refused to loosen his grip on Neil’s wrists. He walked him around the back of the club, to an empty, barely lit parking lot. He threw him to the ground so quickly he didn’t have time to stop his fall.

“Every moment I spend around you, you prove you’re much fucking dumber than I thought.” Andrew spat down, then crouching down to Neil’s level, balancing on the tops of his feet. Neil cradled his head, arms wrapped around the nape of his neck. He was sure he had a concussion. He could barely open his eyes through the pulsing blood rushing through his head, but forced himself to, to look up at Andrew’s smiling face.

“What happened?” Spit dripped down his chin, blood slowly trickling from the busted lip he’d earned himself. “What happened to that Andrew?” Andrew froze for half a second, and Neil noticed. “The Andrew who cried because he was gay? The kid who actually fucking cared about anything?”

“Oh, you are treading thin fucking ice for someone who doesn’t know how to swim.” Andrew tilted his head. “Mention another precious memory and I won’t hesitate to actually break your wrist next time.”

“Why?” He spat blood at Andrew’s feet. “Afraid somebody might remember what you’re actually like when you’re not pretending to be a sociopath?” Andrew opened his mouth at the challenge, a smile creeping up one side of his face. “Are you afraid to actually have someone around you know anything about you? I’m a threat. That’s all you care about.” He continued. “What, do you think I’ll use it against you? You’ve been treating me like shit since we met. If I was going to stab you in the back I’d have done it already, asshole.”

“Since we met, again.” He corrected the most irrelevant part of Neils sentiment.

“Let me go now and I’ll move on. You won’t ever see me again.” Neil bargained. Andrew’s eyebrows twitched ever so slightly. “This time I’ll get a chance to say goodbye.”

“No,” Andrew stopped him. “You don’t get to arrive in to my life like a tornado and disappear. You don’t get to dig your own grave and push me into it.” He bent down to get closer to Neils shaking face. “You’re going to tell me exactly what happened first. Tell me what she did to you.”

“No.” Neil strained. “I moved on. You were dangerous. You almost got me killed.”

“Boohoo, do you hear my tiny violin, liar?” Andrew grabbed a hold of his hair again. Neil let out a cry of pain, trying to pry Andrew’s fingers from his scalp. “Talk. Talk or I will get you killed.”

“My father is a very dangerous man. He’s murdered more people than there are days in a year.” Neil wiped the blood from his lips. It stung as he did so, but it didn’t matter. He took out a small stack of IDs from his wallet and threw them across to Andrew. For a second, anyone would’ve thought they were real, but closer inspection killed that thought. Andrew was holding a driver’s license belonging to Chris Angle, 21, from New York. A European passport card signed by George Debois from Paris. A gym membership from Seattle, an employee pass from Toronto, two more drivers licenses from cities across the globe. All the names were different, but they didn’t belong to different people. They all had pictures of Neil on them. Some he had long hair, short hair, an unfortunate buzz-cut. He wore a beard in some, the baby face of a teenager in others. “You aren’t the only one I’ve lied to. Don’t think you’re special.” Andrew snapped the IDs with angry force. Neil took a deep breath, knowing the last memories of his mother were buried in the face of Christopher Hart, snapped in half, just like that. He continued searching through his wallet. Deep into the card pockets of the tattered leather. He didn’t look up when he heard Andrew drop the scraps of his identities on the ground. Neil found what he was looking for and threw it again, across the space separating them, it clattering by his feet. “If my mom found that she’d have killed me herself. We ran so she could protect me. I made that so much harder on her by meeting you.” Andrew inspected the card he’d been thrown. An under-eye twitch and a slow inhale accompanied his realisation. “You want to hate me for what she made me do, fine, but it was inevitable. You were never going to be the reason that made us stay.”

Neil had given Andrew something he couldn’t bare to part with. His old wallet stayed buried deep, deep in his belongings, so well hidden his mother hadn’t even known it existed. He usually kept his current IDs on his person, and never in a wallet. It was a ticking time bomb, but Neil needed something. He needed a reason to feel, and if that was the memory of the good day his mom had had when they finally showered after weeks of baby wipes and deodorant, it was something to hold on to. Neil had to stay grounded in some sort of reality. He was on the run, sure, but the people he met, the things he’d done? They were real. It hurt to see those memories snapped on the ground like trash, but Andrew didn’t snap the memory he held in his hands.

Andrew held the library card of Stefan Montgomery. It had a faded black and white photo on it, scratched out with time. He had begged the librarian to let him have the card without taking a picture, but she had insisted it was necessary so people didn’t have more than one. In the photo was a scared little boy, a gash on his cheek, with crispy curls and a skinny face. Neil remembered walking to the library when he couldn’t find Andrew, taking out books to help him learn any of the languages he needed to know. The library in Oakland taught him about the history of Spain, and the culture in France. There was something about Stefan that Neil didn’t want to forget. He’d kept that library card safe as if it were a lifeline, like he knew it would come in handy some day.

And then Andrew threw it across the empty parking lot like a frisbee.

“She didn’t see anything.” Neil tried, as if it would help. “We left because I made a friend. Not because… you know.”

“I was not your friend.” Andrew stood up and put a cigarette between his teeth. He lit it, one puff, two puff, three puffs until it burned red. “I was never your friend.”

“You were.” Neil struggled to stand up and join him. “Don’t lie to a liar.”

“You remember it wrong!” He took a short drag and flicked ash as he spoke. “You were a toy to play with when there was nothing else to do.”

“You could’ve went home.” Neil took the cigarette from Andrew’s fingers. “But hey, I wasn’t the only one who needed to escape heavy hands, right?” He pulled the smoke into his lungs and breathed out before flicking the barely smoked cigarette away. “You were my friend. You had Stefan killed because I cared about you when Stefan wasn’t supposed to care about anybody.”

“Be quiet.” Andrew pulled another cigarette from the packet and squared up to Neil who was standing so close he could feel Andrew’s breath hot on his face. “You didn’t care.”

“Are you listening?” Neil spat again, the heat of the cigarette having hurt his cracked lips. “We left because of you. Because I let you in, and I’m sorry you were collateral damage in our war against the world but fuck, we didn’t have a choice. Do you think I wanted to leave? I was going to leave you a note, but she wouldn’t leave my side until we were in another city and Stefan was just another name in the pile. Fuck you if you don’t want to believe that. I don’t owe you an explanation but you’ve got one anyway. Tell me to leave and I’ll go. Tell me you understand and I’ll go, Andrew.”

“I waited for you.” Andrew exhaled honestly through cigarette smoke. “Every day! The fourth day I tried knocking on the door of your motel room. Fifth day a random couple opened the door and I knew you weren’t coming back. Why should I give you another chance, hmm? When you so easily could run away before, who’s to say you won’t do it again?”

“I’m not asking for another chance,” Neil head was pounding. He felt like he could pass out, his ears ringing and body jittery. “I don’t know, maybe I’m asking you to remember what I meant to you.” Andrew pursed his lips at that. He was struggling to keep his composure, like the memory of before was chipping away slowly at this version of Andrew. He was holding himself together with twitches and small fidgets.

“I hate you.” He said, coldly. He had lit his cigarette and smoked through half of it before speaking again. Neil just stood, suddenly thinking about if Kevin were to find the IDs scattered on the floor. He didn’t even think he could lie to Nicky about that. He would pick them up in a moment, but he couldn’t afford to lose Andrew’s interest in the conversation. If Neil got distracted now he could ruin every chance he possible had at reconciling some sort of relationship with Andrew.

“I hate what the world has turned you into.” Andrew snorted a laugh at Neil’s dramatics.

“Oh, you are a pipe bomb.” Andrew started to walk away, but when Neil grabbed his arm to stop him, in a quicker movement he had twisted Neil’s arm in some sort of self defence move that hurt. “You don’t have a right to touch me anymore. Keep your lying hands to yourself or I’ll break every one of your fingers.” He didn’t let go immediately.

“Do you miss it?” Neil searched Andrew’s eyes for something, anything. “Being vulnerable? Being comforted instead of being alone, blaming the world for your problems?” Before Neil could even think to keep going, Andrew had used his free hand to manoeuvre a knife from his arm bands and hold it up to Neil’s face.

“I dare you to keep pushing.” His words were casual, but a threat nonetheless. “Stop trying to control a life you left. I won’t be a scratching post for your mommy issues, runaway.”

“What did Jakub do to you?” Neil brought a memory out from the depths. As soon as the name left his lips, Andrew’s entire body hardened and his eyes turned to glass. He slashed a cut into Neil’s cheekbone without hesitation and proceeded to let go of his arm and jam a thumb into the fresh wound. “Why did you spend your childhood alone in a playground?” Neil spoke through gritted teeth.

“If you want to keep your fantasy alive I advise you to really shut up now.” Andrew pushed him backwards, a final squeeze in the gash as he did so. Even more blood dripped down his face. Andrew wiped his hands in his pants and picked up the ignored cigarette he’d dropped in the altercation. “You are going in circles. This is your last warning.”

“My mom nearly broke half the bones in my body trying to get rid of the memory of you.” Neil took his spot back up so close to Andrews face he could practically see every one of the pores in his face. He still had freckles scattered across his face, his skin soft, with faint acne scars here and there across his cheeks. “I never stopped thinking about you.”

“You should have.” Andrew threw his cigarette at Neil. “Make your choice. Run like you’re used to.” He looked him up and down one more time and turned on his feet back towards the club. Neil didn’t follow. He started to pick up the remnants of his past and he felt his nose ache in psychosomatic pain, remembering a nose-breaking punch his mother threw when Neil dared asked if they could stay. He spat again, still trying to get the salty taste out of his mouth. His hands were shaking so badly he could barely hold onto the shards of plastic evidence of who he used to. After picking them all up he had to stop, and sit down. He was afraid he was having a panic attack, and he couldn’t tell if it was because of the drugs still ravishing his system, or if it was because of Andrew. Maybe it was both. It probably was. He didn’t think he could’ve spoken the truth if he wasn’t high, but God, if he were sober it would’ve been so much easier to run. High Neil was emotional Neil, empathetic Neil, hurt Neil. He’d only had the experience of being really, genuinely high a few times, and every single time just reminded him how much he hated the feeling of being out of control. Of his nerves, his feelings, every fibre in his being misfiring and doing the opposite to what he wanted. His brain was begging him to feel the chemicals it was pumping out, but all it did was amplifying the aching feeling in his chest. He let out a noise that didn’t quite resemble a cry, or a sigh, or a grunt. It was a noise born from pain, a mixture of anxiety and heartbreak, maybe. He wasn’t sure what that felt like. Maybe this was it.

He tried to steady his breath and he stumbled across the empty lot. The booming bass from the music at Eden’s practically shook the ground as he walked, at least, it sure felt like it did. He stumbled as he reached down to pick up the library card so carelessly thrown away. It hurt him even more looking at Stefan, feeling this pang in his stomach that wished things could’ve been different. He didn’t think he liked Andrew like that, and being on the same team was just the destruction of a childhood crush. Neil tried to come up with excuses in his head to how Andrew felt, but it was obvious he had thrown Stefan into the bad memories pile a long, long time ago. Neil showing up again just ripped through Andrew’s closure, and knowing he had feelings beneath what he showed, he was probably hurting too. It didn’t seem like it, but maybe he was. Neil had put the ID away, and looked around. He had no real idea where he was, or how to get home. Before he knew it, he was sprinting away from the club, going nowhere, going anywhere but there. His head wasn’t in a place to decide that he should stay. He’s worth it. His heart raced at the thought of Andrew’s face, looking down at the long unused library card. He’s worth it. Neil couldn’t look back. He was wondering what Andrew was telling the others, and if they would believe him. He wondered if he’d told Nicky about Neil’s Idontknow sexuality, and that’s why Nicky thought it okay to kiss him. But he didn’t feel anything with Nicky. He didn’t look at anyone in the way he looked at Andrew. He ran and ran and ran until he’d sweat out the drugs, until his head was more focused on trying to breathe than it was on Andrew, and his mom. It took a while, and he was lost when he stopped. Unfamiliar streets, him a stranger in someone else’s hometown. Maybe that made things worse. This feeling was too familiar. Lost, lost, lost. Sometimes lost became familiar, became home. He didn’t think he could be un-lost again.

Part 3

#this is about older andy n Neil #so pls send an ask if u want more of them when they were young #cos I love Stefan + Andrew #Andrew minyard #Neil josten #andreil #tfc #aftg #the foxhole court #all for the game #andreil hc #just want ppl to read this bc I’m really happy with it :(

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