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how arcane characters would deal with mental disorders x fem reader
characters: viktor, jinx, vi, caitlyn, jayce, ekko, silco, mel and sevika.
writer's note: writing this felt like giving myself a warm hug, a comfort that i needed. if anyone reading this is going through or has gone through any of these disorders, i want to tell you that you are very brave because it is not an easy thing, so feel proud of yourself. i hope you liked this as much as i did. as i'm a psychology student, i felt very motivated and i hope that it was quite understandable and enjoyable. as you already know request are open ;)
P.S. i know the other option won in the poll on my profile, but i need more time to refine the ideas and make something high quality that everyone will love, which i’ll be posting tomorrow ;)
Viktor Depression
The world around you feels like a constant weight, a heavy blanket that wraps around you, not letting you breathe. You wake up each day with a sense of emptiness in your chest, as if a black hole is absorbing all your energy, your motivation, your ability to feel anything other than sadness and apathy.
It’s not that you don’t want to get out of bed; it’s that the simple act of moving a finger feels like a titanic task. Fatigue is your constant companion, a shadow that never leaves you. Things that once filled you with joy now seem distant, irrelevant, as if they belonged to a life that is no longer yours.
The dark thoughts are your constant whispers, reminding you that you’re not enough, that it’s all pointless, that there’s no way out. Sometimes, you cry without knowing why; other times, you want to cry, but even that you can’t do. You feel trapped in an invisible prison, with no strength to fight your way out.
Viktor watches you from the doorway of your room, his gaze soft and full of concern. He knows the weight of shadows well, although his are different. Silently, he approaches and sits on the edge of the bed, not invading your space, but close enough for you to feel his presence.
“I have a new project I’m working on,” he says in a quiet voice, trying not to break the fragile bubble of your world. “I thought maybe you could join me today. You don’t have to do anything, just be there. Your company always helps me think.”
He doesn’t pressure you. Viktor understands that words can be hard to find when your mind is clouded by depression. He knows that the solution isn’t to force you to feel better, but to be with you, to offer you a hand, a small step forward.
He gently rises and offers his hand, not expecting you to take it, but hoping that you’ll know he’s there, ready to support you when you’re ready. “The world can wait,” he murmurs. “But I’m here, whenever you want to come back.”
His patience is infinite, his understanding deep. Viktor doesn’t try to fix you, because he doesn’t see you as broken. He knows that depression is a battle you fight every day, and he’s willing to walk alongside you, every small step, every shared silence.
You look at his hand, then his face; he’s concerned even though he tries to hide it. You make a huge effort to get out of bed, and even though your body doesn’t cooperate at first, you manage. You take his hand and gently squeeze it; that’s the most affection you can give him right now, you’re exhausted.
“Let’s go,” you murmur, your voice hoarse and broken; it’s the first time you’ve spoken all day.
You’re sitting next to Viktor in his small workshop, surrounded by pieces of metal and unfinished prototypes. He’s explaining his latest invention, a spark of enthusiasm lighting up his eyes. You feel a little better, enough to enjoy his company, and for a moment, a laugh escapes your lips when you hear one of his stories.
“Did you really say that to Heimerdinger?” you laugh, your eyes shining with a spark of life. It’s a small moment, but for Viktor, it’s like seeing the sun rise after a storm.
He smiles, pleased to have made you laugh. “Yes, and his face... It was certainly indescribable,” he replies with a softness that reflects his pleasure at seeing you enjoy yourself, even if just for an instant.
But suddenly, without warning, the laughter turns into a lump in your throat. The spark of joy fades as quickly as it came, and you find yourself trapped in a wave of overwhelming sadness. The tears start rolling down your cheeks, and you can’t stop them. The confusion in your eyes is evident, as if your body has betrayed the fleeting happiness you just felt.
Viktor notices immediately. He leans toward you, his expression turning serious, but his eyes remain warm and full of understanding. He doesn’t ask questions, doesn’t seek explanations that may be impossible to give. Instead, he moves a little closer, offering you his silent presence.
“It’s okay,” he says gently, his voice an anchor amidst your internal storm. “You don’t have to explain it. Just breathe.”
He offers you his hand, this time with more intent. You take it, feeling the warmth and firmness in his grip, a reminder that you’re not alone in this moment. You needed that contact. You needed to know that you could feel something other than sadness right now. Viktor doesn’t pull away, doesn’t feel uncomfortable. He knows that depression doesn’t follow rules, that it can strike at any moment, and he’s willing to stay with you, no matter how long it lasts.
“Do you want us to stay here?” he asks, his tone delicate. “Or we can walk a little, if that helps.”
His willingness to adapt to your needs wraps you in a sense of safety. Even though the tears keep falling, Viktor’s presence is a balm, a reminder that, even in the darkest moments, there’s someone who sees you, who understands you, and who’s willing to stay by your side.
“Just... stay here with me,” you say, letting yourself fall against his body, exhausted.
He caught you and wrapped you with care, it was a hug with the right amount of strength.
“Take your time, darling. I won’t go anywhere,” Viktor promised in a whisper, never stopping the caresses on your back.
And that was enough to make you feel less miserable.
Jinx Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD)
The echo of the explosions still resonates in your mind, even though years have passed since that day when your world crumbled. The night everything you loved was consumed by flames in an attack on the Undercity. The night you lost your family and were left alone, with the screams and the smell of smoke forever etched in your memory.
As you walk beside Jinx through the bustling streets of Zaun, everything seems normal, almost calm, until an explosion in the distance makes your heart stop. It’s a dry, loud sound, far too similar to the one you heard that night. Without warning, your breath becomes shallow, your lungs struggle to take in air, and an overwhelming sense of absolute panic takes hold of you.
Your body freezes, and it feels as if the world around you disappears. The crowd, the lights, even Jinx—all fade away, leaving you alone in that dark place where time doesn’t move. The ground beneath your feet seems to give way, and you feel yourself falling again into that abyss of the past.
"Hey, hey!" Jinx’s voice cuts through the fog in your mind. Her hands grip your shoulders, and her gaze searches for yours with desperation. "You’re not there, do you hear me? You’re here, with me."
Her words feel distant, but the warmth of her hands somehow anchors you, reminding you that you’re not alone. "But... the sound..." you murmur, barely audible, as tears start to fall down your cheeks. "It was the same... the same as that night."
Jinx guides you to a quieter corner, away from the noise, holding your hand firmly. "Breathe, hon, like we always do," she says softly, her voice tinged with controlled urgency. "Fill up those lungs, okay? Like we’re balloons."
You try to follow her instructions, but every time you close your eyes to concentrate, the images of that night hit you with renewed force. "It’s not working," you whisper, trembling. "It’s always there. No matter how much I try, it doesn’t go away. It doesn’t go away!" You scream in panic, the fingers of your hands stiffening, making them immobile.
The worry in Jinx’s eyes softens a little, but there’s something else there, something you can only describe as recognition. "That explosion... it reminded me of something too," she says after a moment, her voice quieter, almost a whisper. "I’ve been there, in that fucked-up place, where the ghosts never stop screaming."
Her words are like a key that opens the door to a deeper understanding.
She falls silent for a moment, gazing into the distance before refocusing her attention on you. "When I have my attacks, you’re always there for me, and I remember I’m not alone. That helps me a lot," she admits, a small, almost sad smile curving her lips. "And you’re not alone either, hon. We’re not broken, just a little bent. And here we are, bent together."
The hug she offers you is warm and firm, a tangible reminder that you’re not alone. You feel her strength, her determination, and something else: her own fear, her own struggle. "You don’t have to fight alone," she whispers, her voice a promise. "If you ever feel like you’re going to fall, we’ll fall together. And then, we’ll rise. Always."
You cling to her like a lifeline, letting her warmth and her words anchor you to the present, if only for a moment. "Thank you, sweets," you whisper, allowing yourself, for the first time in a long time, to feel that it’s okay not to be okay.
Vi Anxiety Disorder
The night drags you into the abyss of your mind, but you find no respite. Instead of waking softly to the day, you're trapped in pure panic. Your chest burns, each breath a lost battle. Your heart gallops wildly, as if trying to escape your chest. You are drenched in sweat, the sheets sticking to your skin, becoming yet another prison.
Your eyes snap open, the darkness of the room seems to close in on you, and the silence is deafening. The sensation of suffocation consumes you. You try to gulp down air, but it's as though your lungs have forgotten how to function. Your hands search for something, anything, to anchor you to reality, but all they find is emptiness.
The door swings open abruptly, and Vi stands there, alert, her eyes filled with concern. She doesn't need to ask what’s wrong; she knows instantly. She moves swiftly but carefully, approaching you without frightening you further.
"Breathe with me," she says gently, her hands finding yours, steady yet comforting. "Inhale through your nose... like this... and exhale through your mouth."
You try to follow her, but your body won’t cooperate. Your breath is shallow, frantic, as though every breath disintegrates before it even reaches your lungs. Tears begin to streak down your cheeks, mixing with the sweat.
"Vi... I can’t... I can't... I’m scared," you stammer, your words broken by sobs. Your mind is caught in a loop of terror, every thought spiraling downward, taking you further away from calm.
Vi sits beside you on the bed, her voice low and constant. "Don’t be afraid. Listen to my voice. I’m here with you, and I won’t let anything bad happen to you." Her tone is firm, anchoring you in the present, pulling you out of the tide of your own fear.
"But it hurts... my chest... I can't breathe..." Your body trembles, and your hands clutch desperately at her grasp. The feeling of control slipping away is overwhelming, leaving you feeling helpless.
Vi pulls you into an embrace, holding you close, offering her calm, her strength. "This is temporary. It won’t last forever," she whispers in your ear. "Trust me. Focus on me."
Slowly, very slowly, her voice cuts through the fog of your mind. You begin to breathe more deeply, following her rhythm, feeling how her presence stabilizes you, like a lighthouse in the storm. The pain in your chest begins to lessen, the pressure relents just a little, and your body starts to remember how to breathe without fighting.
Vi continues to speak, her voice a soft murmur, calming you with every word. "You’re strong. You have control, even if it doesn’t feel like it right now."
The tears still flow, but now they are tears of relief, not fear. "Don’t leave... don’t leave. I need you here," you whisper, your voice broken but sincere.
Vi strokes your hair, her other hand gently squeezing yours. "I’m not going anywhere, little doe," she says affectionately, kissing your forehead, tasting the salty remnants of your sweat.
You remain in her arms a moment longer, allowing yourself to rest, letting her strength hold you as you regain your own. Gradually, the panic fades, leaving only exhaustion and the certainty that Vi will always be by your side, no matter how dark the nights may get.
Caitlyn Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder (OCD)
The silence in the apartment is deafening. The only sound that breaks the stillness is the relentless ticking of the wall clock, its rhythm echoing in your ears like a hammer. You’re in the kitchen, eyes fixed on the glasses you’ve meticulously arranged in the cupboard. Each glass must be perfectly spaced, each one aligned to the exact same level. Symmetry isn’t just a preference—it’s a necessity. If something is out of place, you feel as though the whole world could collapse.
Your breathing is uneven, your chest rising and falling in quick succession. "One, two, three..." you murmur to yourself, counting each movement. Your hands tremble, but you can’t stop. You can’t stop. If you do, something terrible will happen. You don’t know what, but the certainty that it will be catastrophic clings to you like a shadow.
Caitlyn enters the apartment after a long day at work. Her expression shifts instantly when she sees you in the kitchen, trapped in your own ritual. She stops in the doorway, watching you with a mix of concern and sadness. It’s not the first time she’s found you like this, but each time, it hurts her as though it were.
"Darling?" Her voice is soft, as if afraid to shatter you. She steps closer, carefully setting her hat down on the table. "What are you doing?"
You don’t answer at first, your eyes still fixed on the glasses. "Almost done... just a few more minutes," you whisper, your voice trembling. You can’t stop. Every glass moved, every small adjustment is a battle between reason and irrational fear.
Caitlyn stops beside you, her eyes scanning the scene, seeing the perfect pattern you’ve created. "You don’t have to do this," she says gently, yet firmly.
Your hands freeze for a moment, but the urge to continue is too strong. "You don’t understand... if I don’t do it right, if they’re not perfectly aligned, something bad is going to happen." Tears begin to well up in your eyes, the pressure in your chest intensifying. "I don’t want you to think I’m crazy, but it’s like my mind... it can’t stop."
Caitlyn takes a deep breath, her hand reaching out to touch your shoulder delicately. "You’re not crazy," she says, locking eyes with you. "I know this is hard, that your mind doesn’t give you peace. But you don’t have to face it alone. Let me help you."
You turn to look at her, your eyes filled with desperation. "I can’t stop, Cait. If I do, I feel like everything will fall apart. I can’t control what’s happening inside my head."
Caitlyn nods slowly, her gaze unwavering from yours. "I know, darling. And I know this won’t be fixed in a day. But I’m here, and I’m going to stay by your side. We’ll face it together."
Her words anchor you, a beacon in the storm that is your mind. Slowly, almost against your will, your hands begin to lower, moving away from the glasses. The fear is still there, a current running just beneath the surface, threatening to overwhelm you, but Caitlyn is beside you, her presence a reminder that you’re not alone.
"Breathe with me," she says, her voice soft and steady. "Inhale... exhale... together."
You follow her instructions, though your lungs seem to resist, full of anxiety. Caitlyn guides you, her hand never leaving your shoulder. "See? We’re doing it! You’re doing it!" She encourages, kissing your neck when she notices you’ve looked away from the glasses for five seconds. It was only five seconds, but Caitlyn knew it was a huge accomplishment, and she celebrated it.
You let out a small sigh, the tension in your muscles easing slightly. Your hands travel to Caitlyn’s waist, moving her so the glasses are no longer in your line of sight. You let your head fall against her chest, breathing in her scent. It’s so much better, especially when you start counting the beats of her heart.
"How brave my wonderful and glorious girlfriend is. I’m so proud of you," she whispered, her fingers weaving through your hair as she praised you.
"Cait, I love you so much. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me," you whisper against her warm chest, unwilling to leave that comforting refuge.
Caitlyn chuckles softly, and it feels like music to your ears.
"I feel the same way, darling," Caitlyn replied, gently swaying your bodies from side to side in a small rhythm.
You know that your compulsions won’t disappear, that the need for control will remain, but with Caitlyn, you feel like you can face it one day at a time.
Jayce Narcissistic Personality Disorder
The mirror in your room is your judge, jury, and executioner. Every imperfection is a sentence, every flaw a conviction. You spend hours in front of it, adjusting, retouching, trying to reach a perfection that always seems to slip through your fingers. Your heart beats fast, not from excitement, but from the constant fear that the world will see the cracks beneath your flawless facade.
Jayce enters quietly, his presence comforting and, at the same time, a threat. What will he think? Does he notice the imperfections you see? He steps closer, his gaze soft, but you feel the weight of his eyes as if he's scrutinizing every flaw.
"Love, it's late. Come to bed," he says in a calm voice, trying to distract you from your self-destructive spiral.
"Just one more moment," you reply without looking at him, your focus still on the mirror, searching for symmetry in your features, perfection in the unattainable.
Jayce sits on the edge of the bed, watching you. "You've been here for hours. You don't have to do this. You're beautiful just as you are."
His statement, though well-intentioned, feels like a white lie. "You don’t understand, Jayce," you murmur, your voice trembling with suppressed frustration. "If I’m not perfect, I’m nobody. I can’t let them see my flaws. I can't let… you see them."
Jayce stands, walking toward you carefully, as if approaching a flickering flame. "You don’t have to be perfect to be loved," he says, his words a whisper in the storm raging in your mind. "You don’t have to prove anything to anyone, least of all to me."
Your gaze finally meets his through the reflection. Tears fight their way out, but you can't allow such weakness. "It's not that simple," you whisper. "Every day, every look, every word, it’s all a test. And if I fail…"
Jayce places his hands on your shoulders, his eyes filled with compassion and infinite patience. "If you fail, I’ll be here to lift you up."
"And what if I’m not enough?" The question slips out before you can stop it, the insecurity behind your narcissism showing in all its rawness. "What if one day you realize you deserve something better?"
Jayce leans in, his forehead touching yours, a gesture so intimate it almost breaks you. "I deserve someone who loves me for who I am, not for what I pretend to be. And that’s exactly what you are to me. I don’t have impossible expectations of you. I just want you to be happy, to find peace in who you are."
The internal struggle within you is fierce. The fear of rejection, the desire for perfection, the need to be seen and admired, all mix together in a whirlwind that consumes you. But in Jayce's arms, for a moment, the noise silences. His love is not a chain, but a refuge, one that offers rest if only you can let yourself fall into it.
"How can you be so sure?" you ask, your voice broken but curious.
"Because I love you," he answers without hesitation. "And love isn’t about waiting for perfection. It’s about accepting every part of you, even the ones you think are flaws."
The tears finally make their way out, releasing something within you that has been held back for so long. Jayce holds you as you cry, whispering words of comfort, letting all the pressure, fear, and anguish flow out of you.
"You’re perfect," you whisper, your voice cracked but full of sincerity. In your mind, Jayce is the epitome of everything you don’t believe you are: strong, confident, unshakable.
Jayce smiles softly, his hand caressing your cheek, wiping away the tears still falling. "No, I’m just a man in love. A man who loves you madly." His voice is warm, filled with a tenderness that disarms you. "Why don’t you show me that precious smile of yours? Please, it would make me so happy."
His sweet words touch your heart, and the corners of your lips stretch on their own, forming a sad smile.
"Gorgeous," Jayce murmured, caressing your lips with his strong, calloused fingers.
"Flatterer," you reply with a more elaborate smile, your eyes still wet, but now with a different shine, one that reflects the spark of hope he’s ignited in you.
"I’m just stating facts. I’m a scientist, honey, so I can tell you that, from my perspective, it’s scientifically proven that you’re gorgeous," he commented wryly, a wit that made you laugh.
Jayce smiled and kissed your forehead, holding you firmly in his arms. Finally, you feel like you can breathe, like air is filling your lungs again without that constant weight on your chest.
Ekko Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD)
The room is silent except for the soft hum of music playing in the background, but your mind cannot stop racing. Your thoughts scatter like arrows shot in every direction. You try to focus on something, anything, but it feels as though your brain is in a constant battle between the ideas that come and go. The light from the lamp flickers irregularly, and for a moment, you wonder if the bulb is about to explode. This makes no sense, you know that, but the unease lingers.
You quickly get up from the bed, taking a misstep, tripping over a chair you hadn’t seen, barely avoiding it. Your heart races. Everything is a series of chaotic jumps in your head, an endless torrent of thoughts that can’t follow a single path. You look at the desk, with papers scattered about—unfinished projects, ideas you can’t ground. Everything calls to you, but you can’t focus on anything.
Your hands tremble slightly as you grab the pen and begin to write down an idea that came to you, but before you finish the sentence, a new image flashes in your mind. You stop, leaving the pen on the desk and staring out the window. Something about the glow of the stars makes you think of something else. You can’t concentrate. Everything distracts you, even the small noises you used to never notice. It’s so annoying.
Suddenly, you feel the stress begin to accumulate in your shoulders. It’s not just the lack of concentration; it’s the sense of constantly running toward something without ever arriving. You try to finish a task, but more and more thoughts pile up, projects, things that need doing. Everything seems urgent, and nothing seems possible to complete. Anxiety settles in your chest.
You’re about to get up again when you hear the sound of the door opening behind you. Ekko enters the room, his calming presence is the only thing that makes you stop for a moment. He watches you in silence for a few seconds, noticing the frenzy of your movements. You hadn’t realized, but your breathing is irregular, and you’ve gotten up twice without purpose. Something isn’t right.
He watches you quietly, understanding the internal struggle you’re facing. He knows what this means, what it costs you every day.
“What’s going on? Why are you so worked up?” he asks, his voice soft but with enough authority to make you stop and listen.
Your eyes focus on a fixed point, but you can’t find the words to explain what you’re feeling. You don’t know how to put into words what’s happening. It’s like you’re trapped in a cycle of thoughts that never stop.
“My mind... it doesn’t stop moving,” you finally manage to say, almost in a whisper. “Every time I try to do something, it’s like something else distracts me. Nothing stays. Everything slips away.”
Ekko watches you silently for a moment, understanding the fight you’re facing. He knows exactly what this feels like.
“I get it, babe,” he responds, his tone firm but gentle. “I know your mind’s all over the place right now, but I promise we can do this one step at a time. We’ll focus on one thing at a time, no pressure. Sound good?”
The fact that Ekko is offering to be there, without judgment, brings you relief. You know that the impulsiveness you feel, the urge to move without a plan, is something that consumes you. Your mind jumps from one thought to another, and each of those thoughts feels like an urgent need, an immediate necessity. But at the same time, nothing makes sense. Everything is scattered and out of control.
“It’s just that...” your words fade into the air, unable to be completed. You feel trapped in your own body, in your own brain. You can’t stop, but you can’t move forward either.
Ekko gently places a hand on your shoulder, his touch calming. “How can we start?” he asks sincerely, not rushing you. “Tell me what you need.”
For a moment, everything seems to stop. The flood of thoughts quiets down, and for the first time in a long while, you can think clearly, even if it’s just for an instant. It’s not about having everything figured out right away; it’s about feeling that someone is there, willing to stand by you while you navigate through the mental whirlwind.
“I just... I don’t know how to do it without jumping from one thing to another,” you murmur, frustration and shame creeping into your voice. “I feel like everything’s overwhelming, and I can’t focus on anything.”
“We’ll take it slow,” Ekko replies, his tone calm and direct. “First, breathe. The first step is to breathe, and then we can start with just one thing. The rest can wait.”
You close your eyes for a moment and follow his words. You breathe deeply, slowly, trying to find the balance that always seems so hard to reach. Ekko is there, not rushing you, waiting for your mind to settle. With his help, little by little, you manage to focus on one small task, one that’s manageable enough not to overwhelm you. It’s just one step, but it’s a step toward calm.
“You don’t have to do it all right now,” Ekko says softly. “What matters is that you’re not alone in this. We’ll go step by step.”
You feel the knot in your stomach loosening, even though there’s still much to do. But at this moment, with him by your side, you realize that maybe, just maybe, you can find a way toward a little peace.
After hours of work and soft laughter, you’re sitting on the floor, with Ekko beside you, both looking at the pieces left to place in a puzzle. It’s almost complete, the pieces fitting perfectly, and though the hours have flown by, you feel lighter, the atmosphere quieter.
“One more,” Ekko says with a smile, holding up a piece in the air. He passes it to you, and together, you place it in its spot, completing the picture. The puzzle is done, and though it’s a small accomplishment, it feels more meaningful than it seems. Not just because of what you’ve completed, but because you’ve managed to feel centered, accompanied.
When you look at the drawing you had left unfinished, now finally complete, you feel a deep sense of satisfaction. Ekko helped bring to life the image that only existed in your mind, his hands working alongside yours, following every line with care.
“You did it,” Ekko says, his eyes shining with pride. “My girl is incredible.” He pulled you into his lap and kissed your forehead.
You look at him, your heart beating a little faster. The fatigue of the afternoon washes over you, but you don’t care. All that matters is that he’s here, by your side, and that, for once, you feel at peace. The air feels lighter, as if the space between you two has been reduced, softened by the stillness of the moment.
“Thank you,” you murmur, your words barely a whisper, but full of gratitude.
Ekko turns toward you, his expression softening. “Don’t thank me. Thank yourself. You’re the one who made it happen, not me.”
The way he looks at you, the way his presence has become part of your space, makes you smile. And, in a moment of impulse, without thinking too much about it, you move a little closer. He seems to understand it instantly, and before you can second-guess yourself, his lips brush against yours. It’s a soft kiss, no rush, no urgency, just a moment where words aren’t needed.
When you pull away, both of you stay there, looking at each other, the air between you charged with something that doesn’t need to be named. Ekko smiles, his eyes sparkling with that glint that makes you feel as though everything is right, as if the world, for a moment, is in its place.
“Everything’s okay now,” Ekko says softly, filling you with calm.
And in that instant, you believe him.
Silco Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD)
The air in Silco's office is thick with tension, as always. The sound of the bustling city echoes through the glass windows, but inside, everything is still, almost as rigid as the gaze Silco fixes on you. You're sitting across from him, feeling a familiar dizziness, as if everything is out of control and, at the same time, you're trapped in an empty space. A mix of confusion and anxiety courses through every fiber of your being.
Your hands tremble slightly, and although you try to control your breathing, each inhalation seems to sink you further into the internal chaos. The voices in your head blend together, demanding answers, claiming something you can't give. Silco watches you calmly, but it's a cold, calculated calm, as if everything that's going on inside you is a game he knows how to play.
You feel the emptiness consuming you, and yet an unbearable pressure weighs on your chest. Your mind betrays you, throwing destructive thoughts at you, telling you you're worthless, that everything you do is doomed to fail. The contradiction is overwhelming: on one hand, you feel lost, and on the other, you refuse to give in to the feeling of helplessness.
"Are you alright?" Silco asks, his voice low and steady, but there's a slight intensity in his tone. He doesn't break eye contact, as if he's evaluating every micro-expression on your face, every movement. He knows you're not, but still, he asks. Is it a test? A need to know how far you can go? The silence stretches on, and your thoughts only intensify.
The urge to stand up and run from it all is strong. Everything in you screams to follow your impulses, to escape, to flee from the overwhelming weight of it all. But you stay there, because something in you knows that running will only plunge you deeper into the darkness you're feeling inside. You see yourself fighting, trying to maintain control, but every second makes you feel more lost.
"I'm sorry... I don't know what's happening to me," you whisper, your voice broken, struggling against the avalanche of emotions threatening to drown you. You feel the tears pressing behind your eyes, but you force yourself to keep composure. "It's just... it's all so intense. So confusing."
Silco keeps watching you in silence. There's no judgment in his gaze, only a calculated assessment, as if he's reading between the lines of your suffering. After a long moment, he sighs and stands up from his chair, approaching you slowly. It's not a sudden gesture, but calm, as if he's used to dealing with people who struggle with their own minds. He says nothing, but his presence is the only thing anchoring you in this moment.
With one hand, he takes yours. The contact is firm, but not aggressive, as if he's giving you space to breathe, but also space to not escape. In his eyes, something changes. There's an understanding that you can't fully decipher, but it fills you with a strange sensation, like, for the first time in a long time, you're not alone in the storm raging inside you.
"Your mind is betraying you," Silco says calmly, his voice soft but full of an authority that makes you feel that everything happening has a purpose. "It's an enemy that everyone must face at some point. But you don't have to face it alone."
The words fall on you like a stone, but strangely, they allow you to relax, even if only for a moment. The internal chaos you've always felt halts for an instant. And in that silence, you're finally able to breathe.
"All of this... this emptiness, the feeling that nothing matters, it's not your fault," Silco continues, his tone firm, though not without a strange gentleness. "It's just a phase, a moment that will pass. But you need to control it. Not let it take over you."
You feel vulnerable, but at the same time, a part of you relaxes in his closeness. Silco doesn't tell you that it's okay, nor does he promise easy solutions. He speaks to you with reality, with that harshness that you know comes from someone who understands suffering, but who doesn't have time to sugarcoat the truth.
"What you're feeling is real, but it's also transient. Not everything is as final as you think," he adds, his gaze fixed on yours with intensity. "You can be stronger than this."
The words resonate in your mind as you take a deep breath. You don't know if you fully believe them, but for some reason, in this moment, the darkness feels less imposing. You're not completely free of it, but at least you feel you're not entirely alone. Silco is here, firm and without judgment, waiting for you to take control of your own mind, without expecting you to do it immediately, but giving you the possibility to believe that you'll manage.
The pressure in your chest doesn't disappear completely, but a small crack of calm starts to open within you. And though you know your inner struggles won't end immediately, for the first time in a long while, you don't feel as lost. Silco looks at you one last time, without haste, but with a silent certainty.
"When you're ready, you can get out of this. I'll be here."
You're surprised by how firm his voice sounds, as if, by saying it, he's committed to being a constant presence. And although you don't fully understand how he does it, you realize that, in this moment, his steadiness helps you more than any empty words of comfort.
The world continues around you, but somehow, Silco has given you the strength to face it.
The silence between you and Silco lingers for a moment, but it's no longer the same silence as before. There's a strange peace, almost comforting, in the way he holds you, in the closeness you now feel between you both. The contact of his hand, firm and steady, gives you an anchor amidst the storm that still rages inside you.
A sigh escapes your lips without you noticing, and for a moment, it's not one of despair, but of relief. Silco, still keeping his gaze fixed on you, takes one more step closer. It's not a quick or rushed step, but a calculated one, as if he's sure that, in this moment, the only thing you need is that closeness, that calm presence.
Without saying anything, his fingers gently caress your cheek, a soft gesture that cuts through you. There's a tenderness in his movements that you hadn't anticipated, something that seems in complete contradiction with the person you know, but that, in this moment, comforts you more than any words. You feel vulnerable, but you don't fear it, not now.
Your breathing gradually calms, and Silco, silently, moves a little closer, so close that you can feel the warmth of his body. The space between you is almost nonexistent now, and you can feel his breath in rhythm with yours. There's something in his presence that soothes you, that gives you the feeling that everything will be okay, even though it still feels hard to believe.
Finally, his lips come close to yours with an unexpected softness. It's not a hasty or desperate kiss, but something slower, more measured. The brush of his lips against yours is so gentle that it surprises you, as if he's waiting for you to accept it, for you to be ready. And you are. Though your mind is still filled with doubts and fears, something inside you tells you that this is the moment you can allow yourself to be vulnerable, that you can receive something that won't hurt you.
The kiss deepens slowly, and in that instant, the world seems to fade away around you. All that remains is the warmth of his body, the firmness of his arms around you, and the gentle contact of his lips, like a silent promise that, even though the future is uncertain, for a moment, everything is alright.
When you finally pull away, no words are needed. Silco looks at you with an intensity you've never seen before, but in his eyes, there's something more, something you can't describe, something that makes you feel that, despite everything you've been through, you're not alone.
"I told you you were strong," he whispers, his voice deep and soft at the same time.
And for a moment, everything seems enough.
Mel Chronic Stress Disorder
The atmosphere is thick with tension, but it's a different kind of tension. It's a quiet calm, yet at the same time, it is filled with the constant threat of what could happen. You’re there, in one of the rooms of the mansion, sitting on a chair by the window, gazing out at the illuminated city, but unable to really see anything. The world around you seems to blur, as if a layer of fog has settled over your senses, blurring every detail and leaving only the emptiness of your thoughts.
Mel, who has been watching your behavior for the past few minutes, approaches with a palpable gentleness in her movements. Her presence is firm, but not intrusive. From a distance, she’s observed how the symptoms of your chronic stress have taken over you, how anxiety and mental exhaustion have combined to make you feel beyond your limits.
She crouches slightly to be at your level, her eyes fixed on yours, searching for your attention. “I notice you’re not yourself, and I know it’s because the weight of everything has piled up,” she says in a low voice, her tone soft yet firm. “But I want you to listen. You have the right to rest. You don’t have to carry the world, not all the time.”
Despite her words, you feel a pressure in your chest that won’t ease. Everything feels too big, too heavy. Chronic stress consumes you, leaving your thoughts tangled while your body responds with a deep exhaustion that doesn’t seem to go away no matter what you do.
Mel, noticing the internal struggle that consumes you, steps closer and, without warning, places a firm hand on your shoulder. It’s not a gesture of force, but of support. A sign that she’s here, silently, but available to help you find the balance you need.
“Your body is telling you it needs to stop,” she continues, with a softness that’s hard to deny. “Those moments of despair, of exhaustion... they’re real. But you don’t have to go through it alone, no matter how much you think you can.”
The contact of her hand on you, her quiet strength, begins to offer some relief. Even though the weight still lingers, something in you relaxes. It’s as if her words offer you a rope to hold onto, something tangible in the fog that seems to surround your mind.
You lean forward, your fingers briefly touching your forehead as you try to calm the agitation still coursing through you. The stress, that constant pressure in your life, seems unwilling to let go of you, but at least in this moment, with Mel by your side, you can breathe a little more deeply.
“I’ll be here,” Mel whispers, like an unbreakable promise. “If you need to rest, I’ll help you find peace. You don’t have to go on alone.”
For the first time in a long time, you allow yourself to think that, maybe, it’s possible to let go of some of that burden. Mel’s voice, soft yet full of certainty, is a refuge in the midst of the chaos in your mind.
Mel doesn’t expect you to feel guilty for your exhaustion. She doesn’t demand that you change or “overcome” your chronic stress overnight. She only gives you space to feel what you need to feel and to acknowledge that, even though the road may be long, you don’t have to walk it alone.
When your eyes lift and meet hers, there’s something in your gaze that softens. The stress doesn’t vanish immediately, but the simple fact that someone understands you, that someone is staying with you without judging, gives you something you didn’t have before: the possibility of healing.
The silence between you both is comfortable. It’s a silence of acceptance and understanding. And as Mel remains by your side, her presence becomes something that offers comfort, not an immediate solution, but a step toward the calm you so desperately need.
After a long silence, Mel slowly approaches you, and her eyes, filled with softness and understanding, capture you. She takes your hand, with a delicacy that makes you feel lighter, as if the weight of your mind could lessen just with that contact.
“You know, right?” she whispers, her voice gentle but firm. “I’ve seen you fight, and still, you’re here, being so incredible. And to me, that’s what really matters. Not everything you’ve been through, but who you are now.”
The sparkle in her eyes makes you blush slightly, and your heart beats a little faster.
“Mel...” you whisper, barely able to find the words, feeling your nerves breaking. “I don’t know what I’d do without you…”
She smiles, moving closer. “I’m here, for whatever you need, for anything, always.”
Without saying another word, Mel gently caresses your cheek, as if every movement is a silent promise. Then, you see her lean in toward you, her face so close to yours that you can feel the brush of her breath.
“You’re my refuge, you know that, right?” Mel says, with sincerity that runs deep within you.
And without another word, her lips find yours, in a tender, almost urgent kiss, as if she wanted to convey everything she couldn’t with words. When she pulls away, her eyes shine with an unmistakable softness.
“I love you, with all my being. And that won’t change.”
You shiver slightly at her words, but instead of insecurity, you find comfort. Her eyes transmit calm to you, and for the first time, you realize that she’s willing to be the peace you so need.
Sevika Bipolar Disorder
The darkness surrounds you, but it’s not physical darkness; it’s something denser, creeping through every corner of your mind. It’s one of those days. You don’t know for sure, but you feel it deep in your gut: something has changed. There’s a void in your chest that you don’t know how to fill, and a sensation in your stomach that twists you up. You’ve been through this before. The bipolar disorder drags you, takes you as its own without warning, pushing you from one extreme to the other in a matter of hours, minutes.
You wake up feeling the weight of sadness, a sadness that feels physical, sinking you into the mattress as if the sheets were lead. You don’t want to move, think, or do anything. You just feel empty, as if all your strength has evaporated. The room seems smaller, the walls pressing in on you. Your legs don’t respond when you try to get up. A knot forms in your throat, but the tears won’t come. There’s no energy for that, just the weight of despair.
You don’t see her enter. Her presence is silent, but solid. Sevika knows something is wrong, she feels it even before you tell her. When you look at her, her expression doesn’t change, but there’s something in her eyes that makes you feel that the situation is serious. There’s no surprise, no fear, just a cold, calculating understanding. Sevika isn’t one to lose her calm easily. And that makes you even more confused, making you feel like you don’t belong in that moment, like you’re not the person she expects to see.
“What’s going on?” she asks, not softening anything. The question isn’t condescending, nor filled with concern. It’s direct, almost harsh, she doesn’t beat around the bush. She knows that, when you’re like this, empty words don’t help.
You struggle to form a response. You can’t, really. Your thoughts are tangled in an incomprehensible chaos. But she doesn’t expect you to explain anything. Sevika approaches, sits on the edge of the bed. Her gaze never leaves you, as if she’s evaluating your soul, searching for a point of vulnerability, a sign of what to do next. She has the ability to see beyond your emotions, beyond the depression that consumes you and the anxiety that makes you tremble. She knows that right now there’s nothing rational in your mind, but understanding is her only response. Patience mixes with a slight touch of toughness, as she always does with things she can’t control.
“You’re staying here. You’re not going to do anything impulsive. You’re not going to try to run out of here or make this worse,” she says with a calm coldness that leaves no room for objection. You know that, in this moment, she’s the only voice of reason you can hear.
You’re aware that Sevika is used to dealing with extreme situations, but this one is different. She watches you closely, but from a distance, as if she’s weighing the damage, calculating what she can do to keep you safe. You don’t see fear in her, but you see resolve. She doesn’t switch into “rescuer mode,” she doesn’t try to hug you or tell you that everything will be fine. What she says, she says with authority because she knows that if she gives in, chaos will take control, and everything she’s worked to keep stable will fall apart.
In the internal struggle between your broken mind and the anger that begins to build up inside of you, Sevika is the rock that keeps you from diving into the void. But she also knows she can’t ignore your emotions. Her expression hardens slightly when she realizes there’s something more going on. “I’m telling you this because you know it, not because I need to explain it to you,” she whispers, making it clear that there’s no room for games.
When you finally speak, it’s in whispers, as if your words have weight and could break you. “I don’t know what’s happening to me. I’m... I’m so tired of this constant back and forth. I can’t handle it.”
Sevika doesn’t change her posture. She doesn’t tell you that she’s going to “fix” you, nor does she try to cure you. She knows that what you have doesn’t have an easy fix, but she does have tools to deal with the situation. “You don’t need to fix anything right now. You need to rest. Let what’s going to happen, happen, but don’t make decisions you’ll regret later. Do you understand me?” her voice is firm, but underneath there’s something else, a touch of softness she rarely shows.
The air in the room is heavy, laden with the weight of your thoughts, like a fog that prevents you from seeing beyond. Sevika is there, watching you with the same intensity as always, but with an odd calm, a calm that scares you because it makes you feel like she sees it all: the chaos consuming you, the internal battle between despair and rage.
“I don’t want this to control me. I don’t want to be like this,” you murmur, the words coming out broken. You know you’re saying it more to yourself than to her, but still, the guilt pierces your chest like invisible needles. You feel like you’re not being who she expects.
Sevika stays silent for a moment, her gaze fixed on you. There’s something in her face, a line of tension in her jaw, as if she’s weighing every word before speaking. Finally, she gets a little closer, breaking the distance between your bodies.
“It’s not about what you expect from yourself. It’s about what you need right now. And what you need right now is rest, stop fighting against something you can’t control.”
Your eyes search hers, those eyes that always seem to understand more than you can verbalize. And, somehow, you feel that there’s no judgment in them, just a silent acceptance of what you’re going through. It’s strange. In the middle of the storm in your mind, Sevika gives you the feeling of being the only anchor left in your world.
Suddenly, she stretches out a hand toward you, not rushing, not in a hurry, but with the firmness that characterizes her. You take it without thinking, as if it’s the only thing that can stop the flood of erratic thoughts flooding your mind. Her touch is warm, comforting. There’s a strength in that simple gesture, something that allows you to relax, even if just for a second.
“I’m going to take care of you, understand?” she whispers, her voice low, barely a breath. There are no empty promises in her words, just a statement of fact. But in her tone, you find a softness that she rarely shows. It’s like, for a brief moment, her heart opens a little more, even if she doesn’t fully recognize it.
The moment stretches on, and even though the storm in your mind hasn’t ceased, there’s something in you that feels a little lighter. Sevika doesn’t have the solution to your pain, but her presence, her closeness, gives you a peace you never even imagined.
Without thinking, you move a little closer to her, seeking that warmth. Her fingers interlace with yours, and for the first time all day, you don’t feel completely broken. Sevika has never promised you a happy ending, but in this moment, you don’t need one. The simple fact of being here, of having her close, gives you a reason to keep going, even if just for a little while longer.
“I love you,” you say without thinking, and the words come out with a clarity that surprises you. It’s not a grand declaration, it’s not a promise that everything will be okay, but it’s something real, something you never thought you could say to anyone before.
“I love you too, doll,” she responds with a half-smile, though her eyes seem softer than ever. And, for a second, the world seems to stop. The anxiety, the disorder in your head, dissipate, if only for a brief moment.
She leans in a little toward you, and in that instant, all that matters is the touch of her lips on your forehead, a simple gesture but filled with affection. The silence between you both is comfortable, no pressure, just the comfort of being together, knowing that, even if the world around you falls apart, Sevika will be the one to keep you steady.
#arcane x reader#arcane fanfic#arcane imagine#arcane x female reader#arcane#arcane fluff#arcane x you#ekko arcane#jinx arcane#jinx x reader#ekko x reader#viktor x y/n#viktor x you#viktor x reader#viktor arcane#vi x reader#vi x you#arcane vi#arcane caitlyn#caitlyn x reader#arcane jayce#jayce x reader#arcane silco#silco x reader#mel x reader#mel arcane#sevika x reader#sevika arcane#sevika x you#vi x y/n
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Arcane Characters That Are Big of Heart and Dumb of Ass
Pairing: Vi, Sevika, Vander, Jayce, Loris, Ambessa x Fem!Reader
Tags: fluff, dating, flirting, cuddles, kissing, sparing, muscles, protectiveness
Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters
A/N: This came to me today during my work break. I love himbos and whatever the female version of it is!
PURE OF HEART: She will do anything, put herself in any kind of danger to protect you. Vi is ready to get into a fight with anyone, stand up to anyone if they're bothering you. The bruises might be there after but she knows you'll help her get patched up. Depending on where the bruises are she might get some kisses.
DUMB OF ASS: Charges head first into any situation and that more often than not gets her hurt. One would think she learned to use hear head a bit more by now. And just in terms of headbutting her opponent. However she defends her attitude by saying that she's the muscle here, so you should let her take care of things her way.
PURE OF HEART: First of all she doesn't want anyone knowing she has a soft spot for you. She is very aggressive in her flirting both in public and in private but when you're up close, in her lap she will whisper sweet nothings into your ear. After which she will bite it. Don't blame her, she has an image to uphold.
DUMB OF ASS: Sevika has always been a badass in Zaun, but not for her brains. As respected as she is some also see her as a glorified bodyguard that's now dating her boss's cute secretary. She hears these rumors of course but they don't phase her when she's had a few shots of her favorite drink. Not her best moment.
PURE OF HEART: He is a family man to the bone. And he sees you as his wife even though you're not officially married yet. It won't stop him from grabbing you around the hips and pulling you into a kiss, his tongue tasting of tabaco and your favorite drink. Yes, your favorite, because he wants to taste good when he kisses you.
DUMB OF ASS: While Vander might be one of the de facto leaders in Zaun he's made his fair share of dumb choices. He's forgotten to lock up more than once, leading to the people thinking the bar open and he walked out in his underwear. What made it more embarrassing is that you were right behind him, wearing just his shirt.
PURE OF HEART: Everyone who met Jayce even once can see that he has a heart of gold. There isn't a challenge he won't try to take out, be it with brains or brawn. Knowing he's smart hasn't stopped you from visiting him a few times in the forge and appreciating the way the sweat rolls down his muscled body. He even flexes for you.
DUMB OF ASS: The amount of times he accidentally burned himself because he was too busy making out with you is astounding. He picks you up easily enough. But then backs up a bit too much, touching or stepping too close to the heat of the forge. Either that or he knocks important tools down when he places you on his table.
PURE OF HEART: No one's got your back like Loris has your back. He's is one of the most supportive boyfriends you could ask for, husband material really. Whenever he notices you're having a bad day he will beckon you over and scoop you into his big arms. You're not getting away from him or his cuddles until you feel better.
DUMB OF ASS: Among the Enforcers he has always been known as the muscle, and as more than a bit of drinker. But he also tells the best stories. He can be a little crude sometimes, flirting with you and forgetting there are other people in the room. The next morning everyone is smirking at him and he has no idea why.
PURE OF HEART: Ambessa will crush anyone who has anything bad to say about her, her family, or anyone in her army. Her strength is in her physique, strategy and loyalty of her people. But on occasion she can show her softer side, when it's just the two of you. It's one of her weaknesses, that cute smile of yours that she would do anything for.
DUMB OF ASS: One of her favorite ways to flirt, and have foreplay, is to spar with you. However that tends to attract more than a few eyes. She always acts insanely possessive over you in those moments, her head still in the fight but also getting in between you and her soldiers. it ends up looking a bit like a dance, much to everyone's amusement.
#arcane x reader#vi x reader#sevika x reader#vander x reader#jayce x reader#loris x reader#ambessa x reader#arcane imagine#arcane headcanon#arcane fluff#arcane x you#arcane x female reader#vi fluff#sevika fluff#vander fluff#jayce fluff#loris fluff#ambessa fluff#league of legends x reader#league of legends imagine#league of legends headcanons#league of legends fluff#league of legends x you#league of legends x female reader#x female reader
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from @cyber-harpie !! spit that shit homie!! I thought this deserved to be seen because it brings up a lot interesting points—and I do agree with this, though it got me thinking again. I would like to add a few things to my initial statement because analysis and talking about Kim is fun;
(WARNING: MAJOR KIM-RELATED YAPPAGE BELOW)
I’ve watched several play throughs where (especially at the beginning of the game/if they have low psyche) people aren’t sure of Kim, or even go so far as to call him annoying, a buzzkill, or an asshole. At first I found myself getting really defensive about this. Obviously not to the point that I made any hate comments or anything, that would be silly— But just in my head, automatically dismissing it because I love him and didn’t want to hear it. I couldn’t imagine anyone disliking him, instead of thinking deeper and considering *why* people might come to these conclusions.
I believe the bits we get from Esprit and Empathy support my initial point that Harry is the perfect narrative device to meet Kim through. If I remember correctly, Kim was written specifically to find Harry funny, and Harry’s skills let us see that. and that’s IF you succeed the checks, or if you’re dedicated enough to save scum to see other possibilities/go through Fayde to see what other options might have held.
Like, before I learned about the end of the Homosexual Underground thought line, I certainly had my suspicions. I definitely thought Kim was at least queer-coded and headcanoned him as gay, but that thought trail is behind a legendary Composure check that I spent like 10 full minutes save-scumming. I had low motorics on my first run, and I only tried so hard because I had been spoiled and knew that it gave a thought called “Homosexual Underground” and needed to see where that led with my own eyes.
That’s just one example too—There’s several times that Kim Lore is behind hard checks (Ace’s High/Low, that tidbit about him smoking weed lol) or things he just refuses to elaborate on without specific circumstances. Plus there’s all the stuff that you can learn when you play a different quest line. I’ve had several people tell me that going through a fascist ends up with Kim actually being pretty open about things you don’t learn about in other questlines. I don’t even know all the details of that yet because I’ve been so busy doing the other quests and achievements that I haven’t finished a fascist run yet.
My thought process with all this is that without seeing Kim through the lens Harry, who works with him almost constantly for a week straight in a situation where deep and meaningful conversation is not just encouraged but *needed* to build a repertoire and ultimately solve the case—Not to mention the patience and care Kim treats Harry’s situation with—I can see how someone would look at Kim from the outside and find him to be… (anguish at typing out this word) …mid.
So yeah. On the surface level; Kim is a cop. He can be condescending and uptight, sometimes leading into lecturing people (something he himself admits). He plays his cards close to his chest, with both his moralist beliefs and even more so his sympathies for the rebellion—Which can make him look a bit like a fence sitter. He can be emotionally unavailable towards himself and others, making him hard to read and sometimes appear cold.
But past that, he is a beautifully crafted, deep character, and the perfect foil to the chaos that is Harry. He is the man that reaches out to shake your hand even though you ghosted him two days prior. He will pat you and give you a handkerchief when you throw up. He can be the man that sticks up for you time and time again, not just because he needs to in order to solve the case, but because if you really try, he believes you’re a good detective at heart. Past suicidal rants and nervous breakdowns, he encourages you to keep going.
He has been beaten down, ground and polished to a smooth finish by mutiple facets of oppression—from his glasses, to his race, his sexuality, all fundamental parts of himself that he cannot change. From years of working in a high-pressure, volatile work environment with low pay and little benefits other than the small satisfaction of completing a case, only to dive headfirst into the next one.
He pushed aside his lofty dreams of the skies to be down with the rest of us in the dirt and mud, trudging, struggling through life until we all inevitably burn away the fuel reserves and are nothing but smoke, a memory in the mind of fire.
Beyond that carefully constructed exterior, past his wall of professionalism (and habit of using his notebook as a shield) hides a goofy nerd, a lover of crosswords and cars, of silly radio stations, and a deep appreciation for beautifully bearded muscular men. He is an expert user of sarcasm and master of cryptic jokes, some even philosophical or political in nature. At his core, he wants to make things better for the people around him. He wants to believe he can make a difference, no matter how long it takes or how small the change is. Even if working for the RCM destroys him before he can see it come to fruition.
He is wonderful. He is amazing. He’s probably my favorite character all of fiction, and I don’t think there will ever be a day in my life that I stop loving him. That’s pookie you’re talking about. I’ll always have space in my heart for him.
He will live on as long as we do, as real as The Man From Hjemdall is to Roy because Disco Elysium *made* him real, handcrafting him, giving him life between margins and pixels. And that is worth everything.
Kim Kitsuragi is a fascinating character because there's not that much fun or interesting or compelling about him. And yet somehow over the course of playing Disco Elysium the game rewires your fucking brain around him. He's the middest man you've ever seen in both appearance and personality but at some point he says something kind to you or something critical of you and you feel like you just got hit by a truck and you need his approval like you need oxygen and like how tf did this happen. what are you
#I did not expect to be writing that long#Um#enjoy if you like yapping about kim ig#LMAO#disco elysium#kim kitsuragi#text post
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The Other Woman - Part 2
A/N: I'm blown away by the support you guys have given me with this part. I want to thank everyone who commented on the first post and gave me feedback! I'm always happy to recieve constructive critisim to make my work better for you all. This part 2 is a little different from how I usually handle part twos, so I hope you guys enjoy!
Link to PT 1
Your eyes itched as you dragged them open the next morning. The tears you shed last night had completely exhausted you by the time you got back to your room in the Palace, you had just flopped into bed without changing, skirts covered in melted icing.
A part of you was glad for it, as you had something to distract yourself from the soreness of heart break in your chest. You had no idea what you were going to do when you headed to court. The King’s personal guard would be there, and as far as you were aware, he hadn’t seen you the previous night.
Which means to him, nothing had gone wrong between the two of you.
You weren’t sure what to do knowing that. You could: A) Pretend nothing is wrong, carry on with this affair like you’d never seen what you had, or B) End things with the Orc and live with the guilt of what you did for the rest of your life.
Option A was just too difficult for you to do. You couldn’t bare the thought of doing something so heartless to that lovely Orc lady who worked in the kitchens. She was too kind to you, and always willing to lend a shoulder when you needed it… She would be a great mother.
So, it looks like option B is the only way to go.
As you finished remaking your bed, a shaky sigh escaped you as you leaned against your mattress, trying to steady yourself to face the day.
Leaving your quarters, you walked through the halls with your head in the clouds, thinking about how exactly you were supposed to end this affair. Would the King’s guard be angry? Upset?
After stewing on it, a wave of indignity washed over you. Really, none of this is your fault, it’s not like you were aware of his marriage. So, why should you be the one to break it off?
Of course, the last thing you wanted was to stay with the Orc, but if anything, he should be the one ending things with you! He was the one who chose to lie to you and hurt you in that way.
But how would you send that message to him? It’s not like you could just tell him what you saw. He might try to convince you to stay with him and you would not be persuaded into doing such a thing.
… Maybe, if you ignored him, he’d get the message and just leave you alone? Then that way, he’d know that you were angry with him and then, he would have no choice but to apologise to you. He’s not a stupid Orc, he should realise sooner or later what you were upset with him about.
But then, how do you regain your dignity as a Lady?
You chewed your lip as you greeted the Queen, apologised for your lateness and then followed her, alongside the other ladies in waiting to the throne room.
Thinking about this anymore would have to wait. You had a job to do as the Queens lady in waiting.
Their excited whispers brought you back down to Earth.
“Do you think that he’s handsome?”
“I don’t know, have you ever seen a forest dweller before?”
“Well no, but that doesn’t mean that he’s not good looking!”
“(Y/N) what do you think?”
“Hm?” You looked over your shoulder at the others. “What are you talking about?”
“You’ve really been all over the place this week haven’t you?” One of the ladies said, “you know we’ve been preparing for the Forest Fae? Well, the Lord of the Forest Fae, is apparently, devilishly handsome. And, he’s not married or in any other kind of commitment with a woman or man!”
Another one of the ladies giggled, “do you think he’s come here looking for someone to marry?”
“Unlikely.” The third lady said, dismissively. “Men of any species love to flounder, even when they’re married. Why make their promiscuity more complicated than it has to be? You agree with me, don’t you (Y/N)?”
You didn’t answer. Due to recent experience, you had no interest in trying to romance a Fae Lord, there was no point in trying to if he was so easily led astray. “All men seemed to be like that.” You said, callously. “Even if he is loyal to those he sleeps with, I’m not looking to marry a Fae Lord.”
“Oh come on (Y/N), don’t pretend you’re not even slightly interested!”
“Ladies,” The Queen shushed and all the other women fell silent. “Gossip is unbecoming of all of you. If any of you wish to become involved with the Lord, I’ve heard he’s not one for those who spread rumours.”
Upon reaching the throne room, all the chattering of the ladies had fallen silent.
The doors to the impressive room opened, the Queen, you and the other ladies in waiting taking their respective places next to their mistress as they waited for the Fae Lord to make his entrance.
Sunlight caught the Queen’s glittering necklace, making you look around in surprise. And infuriatingly, you caught the King’s Guard’s eye. He smiled at you, eyes kind and wide like he was expecting you to return it.
Instead, you whipped your head away from him and locked on the throne room door. Other courtiers bustled around the room, discussing whatever was on the nobles minds at that moment in time.
For now, you would just have to stick to your plan of ignoring him. What else could you do until you could think of something more suitable for vengeance?
Soon, the doors to the throne room opened and the whole room fell silent.
The first few Fae glided in like they were sliding on ice, their ethereal beauty suffocating and snuffing out any other attractive person in the room. There were eight of them, four entering from opposite sides of the doors, who twirled in what looked to be spider web like dresses, their skirts sparkling in the light as they came to a stop, their long blonde hair falling down their backs with an eery gracefulness.
One of the ladies next to you mumbled something about how the Fae were so lucky, but you were so focused on not looking around at the Orc standing beside the King, that you couldn’t hear what the rest of her sentence was about.
After the graceful – and attention stealing – dance, a Fae man, taller than the others you’d seen so far, graced the courts prescence.
His hair was so white you might have thought that he was an old man, if not for his smooth skin untouched by aging. His eyes were deep pools of black that threatened to suck you in and never let you go, while his smile was kind and serene.
The Fae Lord came to a stop a few feet away from the thrones, and bowed his head. “Your Majestys, it is so wonderful to see you all again. I’m so pleased that I could finally make this trip like my father before me.”
“And we are pleased to have you, my Lord.” The King returned. “As it’s your first time staying here at the Palace, we’ve prepared a little celebration in honour of your new position…”
As the King droned on about how he hopes that this will be the new beginning of a fruitful alliance between humans and Fae, yada-ya, a chill went down your spine.
While the King’s announcement had been going in one ear and out the other, you brought yourself back into the room and carefully searched for the source of your discomfort… only to find the Fae Lord, looking directly at you.
You stood a little taller, returning his gaze in an attempt to be polite. When you gave him a polite inclination of the head, his smile widened as the King finished his speech.
“And so, we will have this little ball to welcome you and hope that your stay will be as comfortable as possible.”
“Yes,” the Fae Lord said, airily. “I’m sure it will be.” He turned to look back at the King and inclined his head once again. “I appreciate that the ball isn’t until tonight, and since this is your court, I’d like to ask if I can be a little forward, your Majesty?”
The King frowned, but nodded his head.
“You see, I couldn’t help but notice that lovely lady standing over there,” the Fae Lord pointed at you, “and was wondering if it would be too much for me to ask her for her first dance tonight?”
Your eyes widened.
The other ladies beside you, nudged you in the ribs. “So it was you he was looking at! I was wondering why his eyes were wandering, I thought he was just bored!”
Face burning, your eyes darted to the Queen and in the process, caught sight of the Orcs face.
His nose was scrunched up as he snarled, “awfully cocky, aren’t you?”
The Fae Lord ignored the Orc as he looked at you once again, hands behind his back.
When you looked at the Queen, she smiled at you and jerked her head to the Fae. “Well? You don’t have to ask me for permission, Lady (Y/N).”
All eyes on you, you bit your lip and sucked in a deep breath. Most of all, you could feel the Orc’s eyes baring into the side of your skull, like he was trying to make you face him, daring you to accept the Lord’s offer.
But the image you saw the previous night, flashed through your mind.
Spite leading you, you answered the Fae Lord. “I’ll have my first dance with you, my Lord.” You said, firmly.
The Fae bowed his head to you, “I look forward to it, my Lady.” And with that, he said his goodbyes to the King and Queen before the entire court was dismissed.
The rest of the day went by with a bubbly air, all the ladies sneaking glances and smiles at you as you went about your day.
You, yourself, could hardly believe that you had accepted the dance. It was true, you weren’t interested in romancing this Fae Lord in the slightest… but if it meant that you could piss off the King’s Guard, then you would gladly accept anything else that the Fae Lord had to offer.
After all, it’s not like the Orc could jump in and say that you couldn’t do something, people would get suspicious then.
As soon as the Queen had sent the ladies in waiting to go and prepare for the ball later in the afternoon, they all pounced on you.
“I can’t believe it!” One of them said as they took you by the wrist. “He really asked you, in front of the whole court!”
“It’s just a dance,” you told them all as you made your way back to your apartments. And that was all it would probably be, you told yourself. “It was just formality that I accept him. It would have been an awful start to his stay if I had told him no.”
“But even so, to ask you in front of the entire court!” Another one of the ladies squawked. “He must really like you.”
“We haven’t even formally met.” You said.
“Oh can’t you just be romantic for one minute?!” The first Lady huffed. “I’m imagining a star-crossed lovers romance, where he dramatically proposes to you just before he’s about to leave, flying through the corridors, abandoning his carriage in search of you-”
“Alright.” You said, firmly. “I get it. Well you can have your fantasies all you like.” Once you reached your apartments, you yanked open the door and slammed it shut behind you, locking the other ladies outside.
Sliding to the floor, you pulled your knees to your chest and squeezed. When you’d first started seeing the Orc, all you did was fantasize like that. Dream of running away with him and sharing all sorts of romantic ventures together.
But any kind of desire for that experience had left the moment you saw his wife.
You didn’t want to colour all men with the same brush, but a betrayal like the Orcs, isn’t something that you can just shake off.
And although it gave you the slightest bit of pleasure to know that the Orc was angry with the Fae, you knew you couldn’t allow yourself to get caught up in the romance of it all. He may be the exact same as the King’s Guard for all you knew.
And… you didn’t want to end up hurt again.
Once evening finally did come around and you joined with the other ladies in waiting – who were all too eager to have you be the leader of the group – the ballroom was full of chatter, people drinking and watching couples dance in the centre of the room.
“Oh, he’s not here yet?” Frowned a lady beside you, “don’t worry, he’ll turn up soon I’m sure, most of the other Fae are here. You should sit by the entrance that way, he’ll see you as soon as he enters.”
The suggestion made you want to roll your eyes. While you were going to dance with this Fae, you didn’t want to be seen as desperate for company. Taking a glass of wine from a passing waiter, you decided to hover to the side of the room.
As you sipped on the delicate glass, your eyes scanned the room where you spied the Queen dancing with the King, the other ladies mingling and chatting animatedly with other guests.
You caught yourself glancing at the entrance to the doors a lot. Keeping an eye out for the Fae Lord. You had to keep internally slapping yourself. This was just a means of getting back at the King’s guard.
And perhaps it was because the King’s guard was standing opposite the room, within perfect line of sight of keeping an eye on you that you were eager for the Fae Lord to arrive.
The Orc’s eyes glazed over the room, mostly following the King, but occasionally, he found you.
Anger boiled in your veins as you kept your eyes firmly fixed on the doors to the ballroom.
Even now, the Orc was good at keeping his affection for you a secret.
A part of you wanted to throw the wine glass in your hand at him, just to keep him on edge.
But, before you could put your thoughts into practice, gasps echoed around the room, drawing your attention to the ballroom doors.
The crowd parted as the Fae Lord’s eyes searched the room and found you. His eyes lit up at the sight of you and he passed through the crowd of people, and held a hand out to you. “There you are,” he said, smiling. “What are you doing hiding in the shadows over here? A pretty thing like you shouldn’t be hidden away like this.”
You shook your head as he took a wine glass from a waiter and sipped from it, “do you mind if I have a drink before we dance?”
“No, not at all my Lord.” You replied.
Over his shoulder, you chanced a glance at the Orc, whose eyes were now locked onto you and the Lord.
The Fae spoke, “I’m sorry I didn’t ask for your name first before asking for your dance, my Lady…?”
“(Y/N).” You answered smiling. “Thank you, for asking me for this dance.” You held your hand out to him, which he took and pressed a kiss onto your knuckles. A pleasant chill ran up your arm.
The Fae Lord bowed his head as he took another sip from his glass. “It’s an honour that you accepted. I should be thanking you for not humiliating me in front of all those courtiers.”
You chuckled at that. “I wouldn’t have done that to you, that would’ve been cruel, even if you were being very forward.”
“I just don’t have a care for all of these silly procedures,” the Fae said, waving his free hand around the ballroom. “There’s no point in any of it, I’d have preferred that the King and I just talk about what I’m here for and then to just leave, you know. But, a simple ball isn’t so bad.”
“So, you’d say you’re a simple man?” You asked.
“Completely.” The Fae finished his drink and you rushed to do the same too.
“My Lady, please, don’t do that on my account, we have the whole evening to dance, you can take your time.” He pulled the glass by the stem away from your lips.
You frowned, holding your free hand up to cover your mouth. “But I don’t want to keep you waiting, it would be rude of me to do that.”
With a sly wink, the Fae Lord said in a low whisper, “if I didn’t want to be kept waiting by you, I wouldn’t have asked for your first dance.”
You gave him a suspicious look, to which the Lord replied, “I want to get to know you, (Y/N).”
“Why?” You asked, shortly. “We’ve never even met before.”
The Fae Lord didn’t flinch at your tone. Instead, he searched your eyes. “Because, it seemed as though you were in need of some cheering up.” He said, simply. “And I don’t like seeing people upset.”
With a gentle smile, he patted your shoulder. “Don’t feel like you have to tell me what’s going on right now, after all, we did just meet each other. But whenever you’re ready, I’m here if you want to talk.”
You stared at him. Was he being serious? As you looked into his eyes you could sense no malice, no playfulness or manipulation in his face… Maybe, it wouldn’t be so bad to give this Fae a chance?
Once you’d finished your drink the pair of you took to the dance floor.
And for the next few days, he always made a point of talking to you. At first, it was mundane things, how did you sleep? Did you eat breakfast yet? Before it became more involved questions, like what your family did for business, asked about your other ladies in waiting and if they were doing well.
And gradually, you started to look forward to your little chats and began to ask about him and his life. It turned out he was an only child and took the Lordship after his father had died of some kind of tree associated illness.
He was funny, had a quick wit and was fond of lymerics. He liked the smell of morning dew on grass and the way the forest smelt after a rain storm. Oh, and he enjoyed rum cake.
Your stomach bubbled with excitement every morning now at the prospect of seeing him around the Palace and speaking to him in the evening, the Orc barely even crossed your mind anymore.
Except for when you were on your way to your apartments one time, and the Orc ambushed you from a dark corner of the halls.
“What is with you?” He snarled at you. “You’re completely ignoring me in favour of that pretty Fae man.”
You didn’t spare the Orc a glance and kept walking. “He’s nice to me.” You shrugged, “I can’t talk to other men?”
“It’s not just talking to other men!” The Orc hissed. “You’ve been ignoring me and the gifts I leave you, along with letters as well! Whenever I enter your rooms to give you something else, the other gift is always left unopened!”
He grabbed you by the wrist, forcing you to stop in your tracks. He tightened his grip, “did I do something wrong?” He asked you. “Tell me if I have, I will do what I have to do make up for it.”
Anger flared like a fire stoked with gunpowder. You wanted to yell at him, to shout at him that he should go back to his wife, confess that he was an adulterer and that he should be begging for her forgiveness.
But for some reason, you couldn’t let that anger escape. It refused to climb up and out of your throat. You shook your hand free of his grip. “You really want to fix it?” you hissed. “You can leave me alone. Pretend that this never happened. Take your hush gifts and give them to the person who really deserves them!”
And with that, you stormed off to your apartments.
Once you were inside the drawing room, you let out a groan of frustration. Of course, going off with the Fae Lord was definitely one way of getting revenge… but it didn’t feel like it was enough.
You still felt awful for the Orc lady, who was pregnant with that adulterers baby. There had to be something else you could do… some other way of getting back at him and really sticking it to the King’s guard.
And then, an idea came to you. It was a risk to ask, sure… but, the Fae Lord really seemed genuinely interested in you. And he did say himself that he would be open to listening to you if you had any problems. Who knows? Maybe he would be up for your revenge too.
So, that night you arranged a private dinner for the two of you, away from court to tell him what was really going on.
He was perplexed by your request to meet him in a place away from the public eye, but never the less accepted and arrived to dinner with that same pleasant smile he always gave you.
“What’s all this about?” He had asked as you finished setting the table.
You intertwined your fingers together and clasped them in front of you, as if you were about to start praying.
“… Do you remember when you told me that you could sense a sadness within me?” You asked. And over dinner, you told him everything. The secretive meetings, the presents. As you told your sombre tale, you realised how badly it all truly sounded.
Of course, the affair was awful enough on it’s own… but the fact that the Fae Lord had been unwittingly helping you in your payback, would come across as you using him.
And as you finished with the climax of your story, the Fae Lord’s fists clenched tighter around his cutlery. His jaw tightened.
You bit your lip, wanting to explain yourself. “I have to say that your asking me to dance in front of the whole court was what inspired me to continue on with this plan of revenge. I have truly enjoyed spending time with you and didn’t mean to use you my Lord…”
“You have nothing to be sorry for.” The Fae spat. “It’s an awful thing for him to do to you, it’s no wonder he was so against us dancing and being seen together in the first place. I had half a mind to complain to the King about his behaviour.”
He knocked the butt of his fork on the table as the Lord looked around your drawing room, like there would be some kind of explanation somewhere. “How dare he use someone like that to get his own rocks off!” The Fae Lord hissed. “And especially you. You should have told me sooner, this isn’t something that you should have to deal with alone!
“No, do you know what?” The Fae pointed at you, “don’t do anything else until I say so, alright? We’re going to get this bastard man-whore… or should it be Orc-whore?” He gave you smug smile as you laughed. “For this plan to work,” he continued, “I’ll need to ask permission from someone before I go through with it.”
You frowned. “Ask permission for what?”
The Fae Lord gave another sly grin, “It’s a surprise.” His smile faded as he reached out across the table with a free hand and took yours in his, “I’ve grown very fond of you, (Y/N) and I hope that you have of me too, so with that in mind, please trust me, okay?”
He was right, you had grown fond of him and his presence. It would be strange for him to not be around in court any more. Your heart sunk in your chest at the realisation that he wouldn’t be around for much longer.
You nodded. Lowering your head, you stared at your empty plate and sighed. “… I feel really silly for thinking that he could have actually liked me.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” The Fae Lord asked, frowning. “I like you.”
You sighed. “I mean honestly liked me. Not just used me as a means to have an affair… I thought that we would get married one day and…” You gripped your skirts.
For a moment, the Fae stayed silent. “You don’t deserve to be loved by trash like him.” He said, firmly. He gave another squeeze of your hand. “And we’ll make sure he knows it. So don’t put yourself down, alright? It’s not you who’s in the wrong, it’s him.”
And once again, he was right. You sniffed. It made you feel a lot better to hear someone say it out loud, and to talk to someone about this affair. It was like a huge weight had been lifted off your chest.
Weeks went by and everything continued on as it had been before. The Fae Lord acted no differently than before your dinner together and the King’s guard grew more and more furious each time he saw you and the Fae together.
He had stopped bothering you since you’d told him to leave you alone… but there was still that foreboding feeling that the Orc was still looking for ways to win back your approval, proved by his scathing looks of the Fae Lord when you and he were together.
And with that feeling hovering in the air at court, you began to realise how stupid you must have been, to believe that you were only worthy of such a deceitful kind of love. You deserved so much more, wanted so much more.
The strangest part about knowing that, was that you felt it might come true very soon. You didn’t know how you could tell, you just knew it.
You began to worry as the final days of the Fae Lord’s stay drew near. There still had been no update on the Lord’s revenge plan and when you asked him about it, he’d always reassured you and given your hands a reassuring squeeze. “I’m just making the final preparations, alright? Don’t worry about a thing, I’ve got this.”
It was all too soon that the final week of his stay around. Everyone in the Palace was suddenly mournful that the Fae Lord and his company would be departing.
The Monday of the week the Lord was going to leave, you awoke to find a gift box. It was carved of wood, the bark of the tree still on it’s exterior and top, with a mossy bow tying it shut.
And as you opened it up, you couldn’t help but gasp at the sight you saw. In a bed of moss, was a necklace made of spider web, droplets of water beads strewn around it delicately. Underneath it, was a note:
I would like to give you a surprise gift every day leading up to the final day before I leave. I hope that if you appreciate this gift, you’ll wear it today and the others that are to come.
Others to come? Was this part of the revenge plan that the Lord had cooked up?
Without a second thought, you put on the gift and when you entered the Queen’s apartments that morning, all the of other ladies practically screamed with excitement for you.
Even the Queen – who never normally allowed herself to be emotional – got involved with her ladies delighted chattering.
The next morning, it was a bracelet made of hardened tree sap – the note detailed that if you licked it, it would make for a good snack – the morning after that, a broach made of butterfly wings.
And every day you wore them, eventually looking more and more like a forest Fae than a human noblewoman.
When the day finally came of the Fae Lord’s departure, you found that there was no gift that morning. Although strange, it didn’t surprise you.
He was leaving today after all, perhaps he just didn’t have time to leave one final gift.
With a heavy heart, you made your bed, adorned yourself with all the gifts you had received that week, and set off to go to court to wish the Fae Lord a good journey home.
Following the Queen to the throne room, the rest of the ladies in waiting seemed to be uncharacteristically quiet. When you gave them strange looks, they all pursed their lips or looked away from you, as if they were trying to hide something from you.
Even the Queen refused to look at you. Although you were sure that you caught a small smile on her lips whenever you all turned a corner.
When you entered the throne room, it was packed with courtiers, all chattering as usual. But there was something different in the air. You weren’t sure what it was, but there was certainly something going on without your knowing.
Once you had taken your place beside the Queen, the doors to the throne room opened and in stepped the Fae Lord with his company.
You had hoped that he would make time for a private goodbye, or at least tell you how his plans for revenge had been progressing.
The whole time you had seen him in court or in other places in the Palace, it seemed as though he was doing nothing to try and help you with your revenge plan.
A part of you wanted to be angry with him for being so slacked about it.
But you couldn’t bring yourself to be. At the end of the day, you’d been able to get back at the Orc in some way; throughout the whole week of you wearing the gifts that the Fae Lord had been giving you, the King’s guard said nothing to you, apart from giving you foul glares from across the room whenever he saw you.
“Your Majesty's, I must thank you for your hospitality these past weeks, it has been nothing but delightful.” The Fae Lord announced.
As soon as the sentence had left his lips, the whole court went silent, hanging onto his every word.
“But, if you do not mind, your Majesty,” he looked at the Queen, “I would like to steal one of your ladies in waiting.”
You furrowed your eyebrows at him as the Queen smiled at him. “But of course, it’s been difficult to ignore that you certainly have a favourite among my girls.” She looked at you and tilted her head. “Go on, (Y/N).”
Your head darted between the two. Again, you caught the Orcs eye, who gave you a warning look of carefully concealed fury.
At that, you straightened your back and headed over to the Fae Lord. Once you had come before him, he held his hand out to you.
You took it. Sandwiching your hand between his, he looked you in the eye. “I know we’ve only known each other for a few weeks,” he said, “but they’ve been some of the best weeks of my life. You’re funny and smart,” he lowered his voice. “Vengeful.”
Rolling your eyes with a smile, he continued, “but most of all, you make me happy. So, I ask that you come back to the forest with me and be my wife?”
Your jaw dropped and you clasped your hands to your mouth. “You… you can’t be serious…”
The Fae Lord let an abashed smile come over him. “I am… so, if you’ll have me as a husband…” He pulled a ring, made of wood from his pocket, a white, misted crystal adorned the top of the ring. “This is the final gift… I’m sorry that there wasn’t one for you to wake up to this morning, but I felt you may appreciate it more if I gave it to you in front of everyone.” He gave you a knowing look.
You allowed a devious grin to broaden your lips.
An aww escaped the crowd, followed by a few claps. But before you could give your reply, a shout rang out.
“No!” You and the Fae Lord whipped around to find the King’s guard, abandoning his post. “No, this is completely inappropriate!”
The Fae Lord pushed you behind him, as the Orc towered over the pair of you. He jabbed a thick green finger at the Fae, “what makes you think you can just wander in here and take one of the ladies in waiting?!”
“Actually,” the Fae returned, plainly. “Her father gave me permission. I asked him last night before coming here… Unlike some people here, I’m actually upfront with future family.”
Your eyes widened as the court gasped and muttering began to rise from the onlookers.
You gripped the Fae’s arm and squeezed it. “No, please don’t. You’ve done enough.”
He looked at you, then back at the Orc. “Well, it’s all down to (Y/N)s decision anyway.” The Fae Lord raised an eyebrow and smirked. “After all, it’s not like you have any interest in her, is it?”
The King’s guard scowled at the Fae. But he said nothing.
“Come back here, now!” The King snapped from his throne. “Don’t ruin this moment for the Lady (Y/N) any more than you have!”
“But you can’t possibly allow this!” The Orc turned to face the Monarchs.
“I just did.” The King glared at his guard. He looked at you with kind eyes as he went on, “well, what is your answer?”
Looking directly at the Orc, you took the ring from the Fae Lord and slid the ring on your finger as slowly as possible.
The Fae Lord grinned and pulled you into a tight hug as the court let out an applause.
Wishing the court goodbye, you and the Fae Lord turned and left, without even giving a second glance to the Orc, who was left in the centre of the room, stunned.
“Now this, was a great revenge plan.” You whispered as the pair of you walked down the corridors.
You bit your lip, “I… I was worried that this was just going to be some kind of holiday fling for you.”
The Fae Lord stopped in his tracks, taking your hand. “My darling, I could never, do that to you.”
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i’m having soft quinn thoughts today and i have to shout them from the rooftops so everyone else can suffer with me.
but i absolutely cannot stop thinking about how quinn would always want to spend time with you, but feel guilty for how occupied he is during the season. every second of downtime he has is spent watching game film in your living room, studying tactics and plays. not that you ever complain. you’re content simply being in the same room as him, not taking for granted any amount of time you can be in his presence.
quinn’s attention is always half on you, no matter how hard he tries to focus. he steals more glances at you than he cares to admit, worried that one day you’ll get sick of sitting in silence while hockey occupies the space between you. but you never do. you keep yourself busy scrolling through your phone or reading the most recent book he bought you, never uttering a complaint. he’s tuned in to every fidget or movement you make, not wanting you to remove your always cold feet from under his warm legs to occupy yourself with something—or rather someone—better.
it surprises him that you never do. you never utter a word, not wanting to disrupt his work. every so often he’ll catch you looking back at him during one of his ‘quick’ glances, absorbing the warm smile you give him. sometimes you’ll quietly ask him if he wants anything from the kitchen when you stand to go fill up your water cup, but seem content to simply sit there with him as he mumbles to himself, jotting down notes as he watches.
tonight, he can’t help but notice—during his million and one glances at you—that your eyes are glued to the tv. your phone is laying, locked, in your lap, eyes following the puck as it’s shuffled across both screens from player to player. your body’s subtle reactions to the game aren’t lost on him either. the twitch of your foot anytime someone shoots the puck, the raise of your brow when a player on either team scores, the hitch in your breath anytime the two teams start to fight.
you can feel his eyes on you more than usual tonight, his (not so) subtle glances lingering longer than normal. you turn your head to meet his gaze, brows furrowed and a puzzled look on his face.
“what?” you whisper, flitting your eyes between his own and the tv, not wanting to miss any important moments.
“are you watching the game?” he looks at you like you have three heads.
you giggle in response, amused at his expression and surprised tone of his voice. “yeah, kinda. don’t really know what’s happening, though, if i’m honest.”
there was never a home game of quinn’s you missed. you went to support him every time you could, and loved seeing him in his element. but you can’t even pretend to understand the sport past each player wanting to get the puck into the opposing net. you didn’t understand the positions, the penalties, or anything surrounding the ins and outs of professional hockey. you never watched it growing up, and probably still wouldn’t watch it if you weren’t dating the captain of your new city’s team.
you had moved to vancouver for work, and knew nothing of the prominent hockey culture before you arrived. the sports presence buzzed all around you as you figured out the ins and outs of your new home, but it had no place in your daily routine. that is, until you hit it off with this insanely attractive stranger that seemed to frequent the same coffee shop as you. you accidentally cut him in line one day, offering to pay for his coffee to make up for it, but he paid for yours instead. a ‘pay it forward’ war was started between the two of you until he was stood waiting at the door with your usual order one morning, requesting more than just a name and the fact you drank a large, vanilla iced coffee with chocolate syrup lining the cup every morning.
when he realized you were likely the only person in the city he now calls home that doesn’t know who he is, it only piqued his interest in the pretty coffee shop stranger further. the morning meetings at the shop turned into an exchange of numbers, which developed into him meeting you for lunch on your break when he was in town, that then escalated into dinner dates and spontaneous outings, and now it’s found its permanence in you moving in with him a few months ago.
you were…indifferent, when he revealed to you who he was and what all his career entailed, uttering out a simple “oh! that’s cool! makes sense why you’re always at the gym, now” later explaining that you thought he was just really into fitness and maybe worked as a personal trainer or some equivalent. when he first invited you to games he tried to tell you a little bit about the rules, but assumed you’d catch on as you watched (hopefully) more and more of his sport. you always told him how much you enjoyed watching him in his element, but never asked many questions past if the other team was supposed to be good or not. he assumed you understood enough to keep up, knowing how intelligent and observant you are, but he tried to refrain from talking about work too much with you. when he’s with you, he wants to be present with you, not hockey.
which is why he feels so guilty at times like this, watching film while you’re sitting next to him. it feels like you’re two people who happen to be in the same room, completely in your own worlds. until tonight.
“you…never watch the games with me. you always have a book or something,” he reaches over to pause the game, still a little shocked.
you shrug at him. “didn’t feel like reading tonight. not really anything new on my socials, either. so i figured i’d just watch with you for once.”
“and you weren’t gonna say anything?”
this earns a real laugh out of you, not understanding why this is such a big shock for him. it’s not like you’ve ever told him you don’t like hockey. you just have never really cared to watch it if isn’t the one playing. but you’ve been wanting to learn more about it recently, tired of not being able to participate in the games like the other women do when they’re watching their husband or boyfriend play.
“why would i? you’re trying to work, i’m just trying to learn a little bit,” you reply, the hint of a laugh on each word as you say it.
quinn just blinks at you, trying not to get his hopes up at your expression, not knowing just how far you want to go with your quest for knowledge.
“since when do you want to learn about hockey? why now?” he questions, trying not to sound accusatory or snarky, but genuinely curious as to what you’ll answer.
“i’ve always wanted to learn, ever since that first game i went to, but you don’t seem to like to talk about it outside of the rink, so i don’t really ask much. me and google have become very good friends as of late,” you shrug out another answer for him. “plus, when you’re watching games at night like this, i don’t want to keep talking and asking a million questions while you’re trying to work, so i force myself not to watch to keep from distracting you.”
quinn sits a little straighter, now worried he’s made it seem like hockey is this forbidden subject between the two of you.
“sweetheart, i don’t like talking about hockey outside of the rink because i don’t ever want you to think that’s all we ever talk about, not because we can’t talk about it,” he tries to defend himself, even though there’s no accusation. “if you want to learn about the game, please, ask me questions. i- god, i’d love nothing more than to teach you about it. i hate sitting here in silence every night i’m home, worried you’re going to eventually get pissed at me because all i do during the season is watch old games.”
you grin at his slight panic, endeared by how worried he was about your feelings this whole time, appreciating his intention with the unspoken rule.
“q, i never asked about it because i didn’t want you to be upset because i kept bringing up work when you’re away from it all,” your smile only grows at the fact you were both worried about upsetting the other for no reason at all.
the slight tension in his shoulders fades at your words, relieved that you’re not upset or feel like he made it seem like you had no place in that part of his life.
“alright, well, fire away, then,” he gives you the floor, pressing play so the players on the tv screens move once again, now glancing at you every few seconds to catch any looks of confusion or interest in any particular play or action.
the rest of the night is spent playing and pausing the game over and over again, question after question flying out of your mouth. anything from why the faceoff is from a certain spot on the ice to what a particular penalty looks like is spoken the second the thought enters your brain. quinn takes his time explaining every answer to you, even rewinding and pulling up other examples to make sure you understand what he’s telling you.
at the end of the night he realizes just how much more he caught of the game while answering your questions. there’s several times you picked up on things he never has before. like why one player seems to always place his stick so close to another player’s skates while he’s chasing him. or why a certain goalie seems to lean left everytime instead of right, no matter where the puck is coming from.
he’s been able to add several tells about players in his notes, ready to take them to practice the next morning and change his game to accommodate his opponents habits. and when they win their game a few days later, thanks to your observations during the impromptu hockey 101 class in your living room, he revels in the fact that even though you know so little about his sport and his job, you ended up being one of the biggest parts of their success.
from then on, the nights of sitting in silence while he studies film are nonexistent. every time he brings work home with him, you’re right there next to him, enthralled in whatever opponent’s game they’re facing that week. he loves that you’re so observant, paying attention to the smallest of details someone who’s been playing for years becomes blind to. and he really loves turning you into a bottomless pit of hockey information, seeing how you absorb each ‘lesson’ from day to day.
when they break through their slump, a big part of that accredited to your nights spent questioning quinn, and he sees you start really participating in his games, he can’t help but fall that much deeper in love with you. watching you scream and complain about bad calls with the rest of the fans in rogers arena, and reading your texts to him about your thoughts on his away games you watch on tv, swells his heart in a way he never thought to be possible.
plus, he always knew it was only a matter of time before you fell victim to the hockey atmosphere of the city. no one can really resist the pull of vancouver hockey, especially not when it’s captain has anything to do with it.
#when will i ever be happy with my endings?#not today#but anyways#i need quinn to teach me about hockey asap#even if i already know how it works#hockey#nhl#quinn hughes#quinn hughes fanfiction#quinn hughes fic#quinn hughes fluff#quinn hughes blurb#quinn hughes one shot#quinn hughes x reader#quinn hughes x you#quinn hughes x y/n#vancouver canucks#qh43
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Rookie love - C. Bedard
Next door hearts
pairing: Connor Bedard x Hughes!reader
summary: You and Connor live in the same building and work for Blackhawks. Slowly, you two are falling for each other and he made a cute date for you
warning: none
words: 2.5k
note: my first connor fic yay! based on this request and honestly it lowkey makes me want to do a whole AU with this theme haha
---
It was a tough decision for you. You were just an 18 year old girl who decided to move out all the way to Chicago to study public relations. You could stay in Michigan but the vision of being compared to your older brothers, Quinn and Luke who also had been studying there, wasn’t tempting. You wanted to work on your own brand and name far away from there.
Your parents weren’t the happiest when you announced your decision because you were the youngest kid and with your moving to Chicago, it meant that they will be alone without any kids around. Despite the fact, they had your back and fully supported you and understood your point of view. They even helped you to rent an apartment so you don’t have to live in a dorm.
Quinn, Jack and Luke weren’t surprised when you shared the news with them, knowing how much you had been struggling in high school with questions about them and being used by your “friends” in the past only because you had famous siblings. Quinn proposed that you can always move to him in Vancouver but you wanted to be independent and the vision of moving to Canada wasn’t something you were craving.
The year you arrived in Chicago, Connor started playing in his rookie season for the Blackhawks. In fact, he was your neighbor and lived right across the hall from you. He also moved there without his family and had to be independent. At first, you didn’t care about it. You were always saying hello to each other when you two saw each other in the hall but nothing more.
Things changed with time when thanks to your great results in college you got an internship in social media for the Chicago Blackhawks. You were excited and grateful for the opportunity. Your dream always was to work in social media and being capable of doing this in a hockey team when you were raised in a hockey family was incredible. You called your parents to tell them about this and they were proud of you. Finally, your hard work paid off.
In January, you started your internship and quickly became one of the most important people in creating content for social media. Thanks to your young age, new ideas and jumping into trends, the Chicago Blackhawks became one of the best teams in social media. Fans loved the content and people rooting for other teams also found it funny.
Connor was 1st overall pick and star of the team so you pushed him to do some of the videos for the social media. He wasn’t the happiest because he was shy in front of the camera but you always tried your hardest to make him feel as comfortable as possible. You were also a shy person and you totally understood him. He was delighted to have you as a support and creating content with you wasn’t as scary as it was earlier.
You and Connor lived in the same apartment building and always were returning from his training or games together. He was more than happy to give you a ride back home. In the first two weeks of your internship, you two bonded and became friends. Both of you had been the same age and lived alone, far away from parents. During roadies, you were staying in Chicago since you had college and many times you received texts from Connor.
They tell me to do this and I don’t want to.
Why have you abandoned me?
Can you tell them to leave me alone?
Promise me that you’ll go on the next roadie so I can have support from you behind the camera.
With every message like that, your heart was growing bigger. You didn’t know how much of an impact you have on him and feeling comfortable. You wanted to be there for him but you couldn’t drop college because Connor was shy. You promised him to talk with the others to leave him alone during away games but it wasn’t in your competence to dictate who’s gonna be on the video.
While Connor was away, you were taking care of his apartment and basically cleaned and cooked for him in your free time. When you entered his place for the first time, you could tell that he’s struggling being alone just like you and you wanted him to feel that he has someone on who he can lay on. You had experience with boys since you had three brothers and knew what to do so he could open up.
Connor was more than grateful to have you. At first, he thought that you’re just a social media girl who’s living in the same building but with time, he saw how much you’re doing for him inside and outside of the work. He wanted to pay you back and always surprised you with flowers and coffee when he knew that you had a rough day in college.
These small gestures turned into daily dinners and movies. After games, Connor was taking you out on a dinner to later finish the day with a movie in your apartment. It was a cute but meaningful moment between you two. You started talking more and more, he finally opened up and felt that he has a real friend and is not alone.
Both of you were falling for each other. You two had similar personalities and tried to stay out of the spotlight. You were Connor’ biggest fan and he was your rock. Almost every single day you two were seeing each other even if it meant only for 5 minutes. He knew your schedule perfectly and always tried to give you a donut with coffee before you were heading on college. You also knew his schedule and after every roadie, you were at his apartment preparing meals for him, knowing that he must be tired from flying around America and Canada. It was like an unwritten rule between you.
When you had been working with the Blackhawks, Connor was more than happy to see you there and was willing to do a content with you. The rest of the team was surprised but no one questioned it. They all thought that it’s because he feels more comfortable around you since you are the same age. It was partially true. He was willing to do content while you were around because he loved to spend time with you.
Connor’ teammates and other people working in social media never noticed anything unusual in the behaviour between you two. You two kept the friendship and feeling privately and shared it when only two of you were alone. In March, your internship was over but the team offered you full time work in social media. You were beyond happy for this and couldn’t wait for the 2024-2025 season to start so you can work there.
When you told this to Connor, he smiled like a kid in a candy store. At first, he was sad that you won’t be around for the next 1,5 months but after he heard that you’ll be working there full time, he was the happiest person. You were confident that he was happier about this than you. In that moment, he gained confidence to ask you out on a date. You gladly accepted his invitation and the two of you spent an incredible evening the next day.
After the season was over for Chicago, Connor decided to stay there for a little longer knowing that you have exams in May. You were always there for him in his lows and highs and he wanted to do the same for you. He was hanging out in your apartment all the time, even if that meant that he had to watch a tv show while you’re studying. Those silent, cute moments made him realise that he wants you as his girlfriend.
Connor started planning a cute date after your exams when he could ask you to be his girlfriend. In the past 5 months, you two shared a lot of moments together and learned a lot about each other. That’s why instead of a boring date in a restaurant, he planned a day full of attractions to ask you to be his at the end. He was proud of himself but also scared of your reaction.
“Since we're leaving in a couple of days I was thinking that maybe we could spend a day together?” Connor asked you in the middle of a movie that you two had been watching.
“But we’re already spending everyday together” You giggled and saw redness growing on his face.
“Yeah but I was thinking about going out, more like… exploring the city” He replied shyly and you smiled at him.
“I would love that, do you have a plan what to do or are we gonna figure it out tomorrow?” You asked excitedly.
“I… I actually have a plan already but if you want we can change it” Connor started to ramble and you stopped him.
“We don’t have to, I trust you with your plan”
“Great, umm how about I’ll pick you around 10AM tomorrow?”
“Sounds perfect” You smiled and the two of you returned to watching a movie.
It’s now or never Connor thought.
As Connor promised, he knocked at your door at 10AM. He had flowers in his hand that he bought earlier. He was nervous but he knew there’s nothing scary in you but he was still overthinking this whole day. You opened the door and welcomed him. He was in awe of how gorgeous you looked in your dress. From the nerves, he kept the flowers in his hand instead of giving them to you.
“Are those flowers for me?” You asked shyly.
“Yeah, sorry” He gave you the flowers and you quickly put them in a vase.
“Shall we go?” You asked him.
“Yes, I’m right behind you”
Two of you left your apartment and went into a parking lot. Connor opened the passenger door for you and you thanked him. All the nerves went out of him when you started talking to him about your summer plans. It felt natural between the two of you. The next 20 minutes you were talking about how you are gonna spend the free months. He stopped the car and opened the door for you.
“I know you didn’t have breakfast so I thought it would be nice to grab donuts and coffee and go to the park” Connor said and you smiled at him.
“You know me too well” You joked.
Connor ordered your favorite donuts and coffee and you were smiling all the time standing next to him because he remembered those little details about you. When you two got the order, you walked into a park and sat on a bench while eating and joking. After you finished your breakfast, he stood up and you followed him. For the next hour, you two have been walking around the park with coffee in your hands.
When Connor saw that you’re getting tired, he knew it’s time for another attraction. You two went to his car and he drove you to a place that you always wanted to visit but never had time. It was the Museum of Illusion and it was on your bucket list to get here one day. You were surprised that he remembered this detail because you told him about it months ago.
You were so excited to go there and Connor was excited for you. For another couple hours you two had been walking around the museum having fun and taking lots of pictures. It was the first time you saw him fully comfortable with taking pictures and you couldn’t be happier that he feels safe around you. Smiles couldn’t disappear from both of your faces.
It was already 4PM when you two left the museum and you were starting to get hungry. Connor had this already planned and drove you to McDonalds to get food. Again, he remembered that you said to him that this is your guilty pleasure food and you could eat it every single day. When you two got the food, you decided to sit in the car and eat in a parking lot while chatting. This day was already perfect but he had one more thing planned.
Now it was the most nervous part for Connor. He booked a boat trip for you two and after it he wanted to ask you to be his girlfriend. The day was perfect and he didn't want to ruin it. He started to overthink this again but your monologue about wanting to adopt a cat brought him back to reality. He was smiling at the thought of you having a cat because he knew you'd be great with him. After 30 minutes, he parked a car and led you to a boat.
“You mentioned how much you miss home and spending days on a boat so I thought we could have a boat evening here” He shrugged.
“It’s perfect, I love the idea” You hugged him and he swore that he felt butterflies in his stomach.
You two walked on the boat and sat here quietly watching the busy city. It was incredible to stop and just relax while enjoying each other's presence. You cuddled into him and he gladly put his hand on you. It was a gentle move but you loved it. You were so in love with him and this day just proved to you that Connor is the guy you want forever. After an hour, you returned to the land and you smiled at him widely.
“Thank you for today. It was the best day of my life” You pecked his cheek and saw a blush on his face.
“It was a pleasure for me to make your day better but I need to ask you something” He took a deep breath. “I really like you Y/N and I want you as more than a friend. Would you be my girlfriend?” He asked you and you froze in a spot. A boy that you love wants you. After a couple seconds you threw yourself into his arms.
“I would love to be your girlfriend. You mean the world to me and I’ll be more than happy to be yours” Connor felt relief when you agreed.
“Can I kiss you?” He asked you shyly.
“You don’t have to ask, you’re my boyfriend” You chuckled and the next thing you felt was his lips on yours. It was a passionate kiss full of emotions and love. You couldn’t be happier than today.
yourusername
liked by _connorbedard and 2352 others
yourusername I think I fall in love...🤍
jackhughes You what???
lhughes_06 You have a lot to explain young lady when you get back home.
_quinnhughes That the reason why I was against you going to different city
25 May 2024
#connor bedard#connor bedard x reader#connor bedard imagine#connor bedard fanfiction#connor bedard oneshot#nhl#nhl imagine#nhl fanfiction#chicago blackhawks#v' work
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"It's fine, no harm done." Sure the interaction had been far more unpleasant for him, but it hadn't damaged him in anyway. It had merely left the sensitive sensors in his hand tingling and caused him to be forced to reboot, but the information he'd been forcefully given hadn't corrupted his memory or been corrupted itself.
He'd been able to make sense of and properly view the overwhelming amount of data once he'd come back online, the entire event had only taken a few seconds so Strasky didn't have the time necessary to start thinking he'd broken Dan. So, the android only had to deal with the man apologizing for not warning him sooner, and for the things he'd been forced to witness.
Dan was just glad he now had a system to keep Strasky from getting worked up over seeing the androids Brent was currently building. He only had to get someone to distract the man well Brent preformed the functions test on them as that caused the skin to activate, making it harder for Strasky to look at them and keep his composure. So he had Sixty play the distraction as Brent preformed the test on the newly completed android.
Sixty did as he'd been silently instructed to do, he began fiddling with something breakable which caused Strasky to quickly try to get the item away from him. The RK800 played keep away with the man until Brent shut the android down and set it aside with the first one, then he let Strasky snag the glass decoration from him and set it back on the shelf.
"I estimate this will take an hour to complete the entire order, now that the new computers are here." Brent responded calmly, he was clearly used to dealing with impatient humans given how well he handled the behavior. "If you wish to, you can join the military units in the dining room. I believe they are playing a card game, one where you win by lying. So it should be entertaining for you, even if you cannot join in on one of their more extreme rules." The JB300 felt Agent Bishop would likely enjoy the games the military units played, even if he couldn't use the tool they did to weaken and shut down most of their functions.
Personally, he didn't understand why they liked to play something that was a less extreme version of roulette, but as long as it kept them entertained he wouldn't judge.
Vincent glanced at his black and purple uniform as Peter giggled to himself, he wasn't as accustomed to the human's strange behavior as Dan was. So, the AP700 would find himself frequently trying to understand the odd and cryptic things the human said to him. He only stopped when Dan mentally reminded him that it was best to just brush it off, seeing as Peter likely just found noting Vincent's favorite color funny due to being under the influence of the painkillers.
The yellow and red of Vincent's LED shifted to blue as he looked up at the other android, clearly finding his presence comforting as his stress levels fell significantly. He held up the crochet wolf he'd just finished outfitting with a yellow rain coat, silently waiting for the other's opinion on it as the yellow returned to his blue LED.
"Sometimes I make notes on the more absurd things he says, they range from questionable to outlandish. Usually they're just things he blurts out well upset. Although I don't know if most would make sense as a fortune, or if people would want quotes from the guy who told Elijah Kamski to suck his dick." Dan felt androids would like Peter more due to him telling off the whole of Cyberlife, and the boy had enough humans that didn't like him supporting androids.
"'I'm the video game boy, I'm the one who wins.' Is a personal favorite of mine in terms of things he's yelled at me because I was beating him. He's also tried to convince me clearly broken controllers weren't actually broken, 'the exposed wires help it breathe better' was an interesting one. I could go on, but some of my favorites are just from him forgetting I'm not a human, or just how common it is for him to crack himself up."
Dan chuckled slightly as he glanced at Peter, who'd finally passed out in his arms. He still knew better then to put him to bed as Peter would wake up the moment he couldn't hear the beating of the PL600's thirium pump and his pump regulator, it was a sound he noted calmed Peter and provided him comfort.
"It took me a bit to get used to how much he screams, but that's probably due to my own experiences with it." Daniel piped up, he had grown accustomed to Peter's rage fits and how they were harmless to him. "Now, I find it funny to watch him loose his mind over something like chess. I never knew someone raising their voice at me would be amusing."
Sixty turned to Willow once he was certain he'd no longer be need, excitedly motioning for her to follow him, so he could finally show her the room where they stored whatever Vincent made during his visits.
"Empathy is a wonderful gift." Willow said, eyeing Dan, "Perhaps I should have mentioned to be careful while handling Strasky."
It was hard to ignore the structure gel going off now that she knew what to be on the lookout for. She was glad all that information being dumped on him at once had not caused him to overload like it did with the brain scans.
Deviants were simply built different perhaps.
"In other words, we have commissioned a young genius who must be kept on a leash." Bishop mused.
"You keep yours in a jar." Rook pointed, getting a confused look from the android, "Do you even have to ask?"
"Not at all." He shot Bishop a skeptic look, before heading back to where Vincent was.
Bishop crossed his arms, "So, how much longer do we have to wait? There is work I have to get back to."
"You guys should write down what he says and put it in fortune cookies." Rook suggested, "It's so cryptic everybody would love them."
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wildfire (cs) | 10.5
—spotify playlist | series masterlist
—summary: assistant professor in bioengineering, incredibly attractive, lonely and divorced; that’s how most people describe san. but despite the events that have happened in his life, san has a lot going for himself. he’s a successful, sought out professor due to his brilliant contributions to science at just an early age of 32. he worked hard to get where he was now; head deep into his research, his publications, building his lab and creating a name for himself. everything was good and smooth sailing— until it wasn’t. because when he meets you, a bioengineering grad student interested in rotating in his lab, he finds himself ready to risk all the blood, sweat and tears he put in throughout the years just to keep you close— his need for you spiraling out of control like a wildfire.
—pairing: asst. professor!choi san x grad student!f. reader
—genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers to lovers, grad school au | fluff, angst, smut
—word count: 2k
—chapter content/warnings: cussing, mature language/sexually implied content, infidelity, flirting, kissing/making out, there is trouble everywhere quite frankly…. gonna dip once i post bcos i know this is bad but there’s def another future 0.5 chapter that might be worse
⇢ POSTDOC | YR 2.5
"Babe." Iseul whines a bit, making San mimic her pout before tapping her nose.
"Love. How about I take you out this weekend to make up for it? We can go somewhere, just us two."
"Okay, but it'd be better if you could do that and come hang out tonight, too."
"I'll try."
"San."
"I'll try." He chuckles. "I should really finish up behavior tonight and that review for the paper we're working on. I'm already behind."
"Who said? You still have time."
"I have to get this done by next week." He gives her a sympathetic smile before placing a kiss on her forehead.
"Next week."
"I'll try and get it done so I can hang out with you two, k?" He cups her cheeks. She can't help but continue to pout and cross her arms, even when he kisses her on the tip of her nose and on the lips. Part of her continues to have a soft spot for her man, the love of her life.
Part of her wants to continue being supportive because she loves seeing San excel in his craft, she loves being by his side throughout all his achievements and vice versa. She feels like together, they can conquer the world together— be unstoppable, reach the top.
The other half, maybe more than half at this point, is sad. Empty. She longs for the man she fell in love with, she longs for his company. His time. His effort.
His kisses, his cuddles. Everything.
Iseul never thought the lines would blur.
"Okay?" San repeats, causing Iseul to return her full attention on him. She gives him a small smile and nod, San's thumbs caressing her cheeks. "Better." He subtly bites his lip before caressing her chin. "C'mere." He leans forward to peck her lips again, and again.
And again.
Before they're both standing near her car, kissing under the late afternoon sun. Iseul tugs on San's shirt, deepening the kiss as she pulls him closer. He softly groans against her lips, Iseul's hand slowly traveling down to his belt.
"Baby." He pulls back and chuckles.
"We can be quick." She chases after his lips and presses small, repeated kisses against them before he's gently prying her off and shaking his head.
"I'm sorry, baby. I gotta go." She whines again before he's kissing her one last time on the lips and forehead. "You can have me all you want later tonight. And tomorrow. And the weekend."
"Ugh. I hope you know how much I'm sacrificing so you can hurry and finish." He laughs.
"I love you."
"Love you, too." She sighs, watching as San waves before doing a light jog back to the building. She slips into her car and connects a call to the bluetooth just as she pulls out of the parking spot.
"Yo!" Yunho answers the call almost immediately.
"Hey. What can I bring to your place for tonight?"
"Hm. Soju? I think I'm almost out." Yunho hums. "Chips and any other snacks."
"Okay, so everything? What do you even have at home?"
"Me, myself and I." Iseul laughs.
"Uh. So much for inviting us over when you don't even have anything ready."
"I'll whip something up, don't worry! Why the doubting?"
"Alright, boss. Counting on you then."
"You know what else I need?"
"What, Yunho?" He chuckles.
"You." It’s meant to be a lighthearted joke; nothing more, nothing less. But, it does something to Iseul and Yunho knows it well enough by this point.
"You're so sappy. Quit it." She blushes to herself, biting her bottom lip even though she playfully scolds him.
"Nah. It's kinda fun seeing you all flustered."
"Hate you."
"Sad. I don't." She shakes her head and smiles. "Sliding through soon?"
"Yeah, I'm just gonna freshen up and change at the house first after grabbing groceries."
"San is coming?"
"He said he'll try and wrap up quick so he can join."
"Ah, okay." Yunho sighs a bit. It's been awhile since he's been able to hang out with his bestfriend, but he understands how important his work is right now. He tries to be, at least. He knows how it all goes.
He just wishes San would give himself more time to relax. Enjoy life a little bit, just like he used to.
"I'll see you in a bit then."
"Mhm. I'll text you when I'm on the way."
"How exciting."
"Shut up." She ends the call. Suddenly, those dark, sad feelings she felt earlier are gone. Suddenly, she's happy. She feels a bit giddy. Excited.
Iseul isn't really sure when the line started to blur.
But somehow, they're here and Yunho isn't sure how they'll go back and undo whatever they've created between each other. He knows this shouldn’t even be a thing. He should feel like some sort of last resort, a rebound— like he's the cushion that keeps Iseul company solely because San isn't around. Yunho knows there shouldn't be much to it.
So, why is there more to it?
It must have been all the kick-its with friends, all the lunches and casual dinners. It must have been the exchanged texts with stupid [but silly] memes or tweets the other would appreciate. It must have been the calls just to check in with each other. It must have been the subtle, lingering looks.
Accidentally brushing hands.
Teasing and poking fun at each other.
Flirty undertones.
Saying shit to make the other smile or laugh.
San would have just assumed they were being normal around each other. They had always been close anyway, but he says that because he doesn't catch the small acts in between.
The very small, but clear and intentional acts.
For a minute, Iseul thought it was a phase because Yunho was there like he had always been. But then, the feelings and the thoughts stayed for longer than a phase; piled up over weeks and weeks.
Until she realized what it meant.
So, she tried to distract herself and force herself to understand that it was truly just a phase. When San was around, she'd affectionately hug him. Kiss him. Cuddle him. Pull him to bed and make him cum over and over again to feel satisfied, to feel like she was still wanted by her man.
His moans and the loud calls of her name the only thing granting that satisfaction. Even though, could she say the affection behind it was genuine?
Clear, intentional?
Who's to say?
Especially when she's happily skipping down the aisles in the grocery store, grabbing the soju that both she and Yunho like; the one that San doesn't really like as much but he'll deal and make do. Especially when she's throwing on a form-fitting zip-up and leggings, trying to come off as comfy, but alluring. Especially when she sprays her perfume and dabs on a bit of lip gloss for a lazy kick-it that’s staying behind doors and enclosed walls.
Especially when she walks through the door to greet Yunho with a big hug— one that has him swinging her around before they plop onto the living room floor and get started on the drunk, scary indie movie and short film marathon the three agreed to do as a way of de-stressing.
Especially when Iseul gets the dreaded but expected text from San, and she can't help but welcome back the same feelings of emptiness and disappointment from earlier.
san: running behind. i don't think i'll make it, love. i'm sorry. tell yunho i’m sorry, too.
san: i'll be home tonight - i'll make it up to you. this weekend, too. 😘 i'm all yours.
"He's not coming." Iseul says, taking another huge swig from their third soju bottle of the night, making Yunho nod silently.
"I'm sorry—"
"It's fine, don't be such a debbie downer." She laughs, playfully punching him on the bicep. Yunho catches her hand in his when she attempts to pinch him the second time around, making her pout in return. "Ouch!"
"Says you who was just about to punch me on the bicep, meanie." She giggles when he lets go of her hand. "I'll let it go. At least you're laughing and smiling."
"Yeah." She looks up at him. "You surely do make me laugh and smile."
"Good or bad way?"
"Good. How could that be a bad thing?"
"I don't know, you could just think I'm stupid." She snorts.
"Never."
"Well, good." Yunho smiles. "I like it when you laugh and smile."
"I like it when you make me laugh and smile, Yunho."
"Yeah?" He drunkly rests his cheek on the palm of his hand, elbow on the surface of the table. "What else do you like, Iseul?"
"A lot of things."
"Mhm." He hums in a sing-song tone before leaning closer to tease her a bit. "What are a lot of things? Name a few."
"Yogurt soju, melon bread, being in bed after a long day and letting the sheets engulf me. Reading in a hot bath with candles lit up. To name a few." She leans forward to match him. "I don't think I can say anything else."
"Why not?"
"Because other things could be bad for me."
"In what way specifically?"
"Just cause." Her voice is barely above a whisper, lips only inches away from Yunho's.
"Just cause? How bad could it be?" She subtly shrugs before her eyes are dipping down to his lips, back up to his eyes.
"Dunno. You tell me." She distractedly says.
"What if.. maybe.. it isn't a necessarily a bad thing at all?" There's a thick silence in the air, but no one wants to address the tension, the elephant in the room. So, after a few minutes of said silence, Iseul leans forward and just kisses him— somehow thinking it could address the tension or whatever elephant is hiding in the room.
And at first, it shocks Yunho.
He freezes because he knows this shouldn't have happened. It fucking shouldn't have happened and he should’ve put a stop to it ASAP. Because Iseul was San's and vice versa, they made vows and devoted their lives to each other in front of him, and they were good together.
Yunho isn't really sure when the line started to blur.
But then, he finds himself chasing after her lips to kiss her again, and again— until things can't be stopped and San's texts are going unanswered while Iseul's phone sits on the coffee table and vibrates away.
Her and Yunho are no longer sitting around watching the short film that's on. It eventually plays a random video next because no one is paying attention to what’s happening in the background. Empty soju bottles are spread across the surface of the table, along with open bags of chips and empty bowls. TV serving its purpose as background noise, almost fighting with the loud kisses and subtle moans leaving their lips while Iseul continues to make a place for herself on Yunho’s lap.
Meanwhile, San tucks his phone into his pocket, shrugging off the entire thing after he had sent her a few more follow up texts with all his ideas on how to make up for tonight. And tomorrow. And the weekend. He felt bad, but he was genuinely excited to do things with Iseul. To take her out on dates, travel near and far with her just to be alone. Rekindle the flame. Bring back that love, passion, that had been slowly dying because of his own fault.
It wasn't entirely uncommon for Iseul to let texts go unanswered, but he was only worried because he knew that initial 'sorry can't make it' text upset her. She was probably trying to distract herself and lean on Yunho. Which, San can't help but think that Yunho does a way better job of being there for her than he actually does as her husband. It kinda aches him to think about it, and he's not sure how to navigate his own feelings when he keeps replaying that bar scene in his head.
For San, there’s no use in figuring this out because he knows they're good friends. They get along well, and he should be glad that they do. There isn’t anything to worry about despite his mixed feelings and confusing thoughts.
But for Iseul and Yunho, there’s no use in figuring out when this all happened, why this all happened— because everything has become perfectly clear and defined.
The small acts gone unnoticed no longer small and unable to be hidden.
Clear, intentional.
Now, the lines are no longer blurred.
—taglist: @asjkdk @interweab @woojirang @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs @persphonesorchid @mxnsxngie @jycas @cowboydk @vcutparis @chngbnwf @struggling101 @sanhwalvr @angelqueendom @barbielibra @brown88 @choisansplushie @yunhoswrldddd @hyukssunflower @vickykazuya @lucid-galaxys-world @jaytheatiny @pommelex @thechaotictheoryy @vixensss @santineez @nopension @domfikeluva @in-somnias-world @my-atiny-kookie-rkive @mountiiny @naoristerling @onmymymyway @thecutiepieme
#san fanfic#san series#choi san series#choi san fanfic#san#ateez#choi san#san x reader#choi san x reader#ateez x reader#kpop imagines#kpop#san x y/n#choi san x y/n#san angst#san fluff#san smut#choi san angst#choi san smut#choi san fluff#ateez smut#ateez angst#ateez fluff#hwaslayer: wildfire
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Make It Right
terry richmond x black, fem!/plus size reader
summary: Terry makes it right and apologizes to you for his words and his behavior; soon, you and Terry talk through your issues, getting a better understanding of each other and rebuilding your communication.
warnings: angst, slight communication issues, serious conversation, explicit smut (18+), light daddy kink, oral (f), rough pent-up sex, making out, flirting, fluff, domestic life, romantic dinner, family vacation, nicknames [ baby, sweetheart, mama, baby girl & more ] words: 5k
note: please enjoy, but there may be some errors.
sequel to { funny how time flies } mini-series masterlist previous chapter { everything I ever wanted }
You heard the soft creak of the bedroom door as it opened and then shut, the sound echoing in the quiet bedroom. Suddenly, a familiar warmth enveloped you as Terry wrapped his arms around you, trying to pull you into an embrace.
You could feel the weight of his body pressing against yours, but frustration bubbled up inside you. “Get off of me, Terry!” you exclaimed, your voice sharp and annoyant as you firmly shoved him away.
You shifted towards the head of the bed, separating you from the man you hurt your feelings. Terry stood there, a blend of guilt and despair washing over his features.
“I’m sorry, baby. I-I,” Terry stammered, his words tumbling out in a rush as his eyes roamed your face, searching for a glimmer of understanding.
The remorse in his gaze was sincerity, which struck a deep chord within you. “I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry.” He sat on the bed and moved closer, extending a hand as if trying to bridge the emotional depth that had formed between you.
“I’m so grateful to have you; you’re such an incredible wife and an amazing mother to our son.” His voice cracked slightly, laden with the weight of his apology, as he pleaded for you to see the truth in his words.
"No, why would you say you're tired of me? How could you say something like that to me of all people?" you yelled, your voice rising as a flood of emotions engulfed you.
A mix of anger and hurt made your heart race. "Baby, I didn't mean—" Terry started to respond, his voice still remorseful, but you couldn't let him finish.
You cut him off, allowing your pent-up emotions to spill like water gushing from a broken dam.
"Do you even grasp how I've been feeling these past few months?" your voice trembled, each word charged with frustration and hurt. "It feels like I'm carrying the whole load on my shoulders, all alone."
"If you’ve been feeling this, why didn't you communicate that to me? You know I'm not a damn mind reader!” Terry shot back, his tone rising and more urgent.
"So it's my fault again?” you retorted, your frustration boiling. “Why don't you take some accountability for once, Terry? You used to know how to support me or recognize when I was struggling without me having to spell it out for you."
Your words hung in the air, charged with the weight of unspoken expectations and the longing for understanding that felt increasingly out of reach.
Terry took a deep breath, his shoulders slumping as he faced you directly, the moment's weight heavy between you. “Look, I know I messed up badly,” he began, his voice low and sincere.
“I hurt you, and that’s not right. I should have never said I was tired of you. That was just disrespectful. You deserve so much better than that.”
Terry paused, searching for the right words, his eyes filled with regret. “I see how hard you work every day taking care of our son. You do everything for our family; I have taken that for granted. I haven’t been there like I should have been, allowing my frustrations to cloud my judgment.”
Terry stepped closer, his hands outstretched, palms up. “I got no excuses. What I said was wrong, and I’m ashamed of it. You’ve been carryin’ so much, I’m sorry, for real. I wanna make it right, whatever it takes. I'll support you better, listen more, and be the husband I know I can be.”
As he spoke, you could see the love and remorse etched on his face—deep lines of worry creased his brow. But it was hard for you to process his words fully at that moment.
You let out a shaky breath, feeling the anger decrease slightly. "I hear you, Terry,” you said softly, almost dismissively. “But right now, I just need some space…I think you should sleep on the couch.”
You get off the bed to grab your shower cap, go to the bathroom, and close the door. You hear Terry leave the bedroom, the silence filling the space again.
After your shower, you take your time with your night routine, meticulously applying your skincare products as if the physical act could somehow cleanse the emotional turmoil still swirling inside you.
Each motion rhythm felt almost meditative, yet the weight of the conversation earlier loomed heavily in your mind. You are dressed in a comfortable tank top and pajama shorts, feeling the fabric against your skin, a small comfort amidst the chaos of your thoughts.
Finally, you climbed into bed, the sheets cool against your skin, but the emptiness beside you felt overwhelming. The thought of Terry not being close to you despite the hurt made the room quiet.
You wrapped the thick blanket tightly around you, trying to find solace in the familiar fabric, yet you couldn't shake off the need for his presence.
Deep down, you craved the warmth of his body next to yours, the security you felt when he embraced him, even if your heart still stung from his words.
With a shaky sigh, you swung your legs over the side of the bed and decided to seek him out. You padded down the hallway, glancing at the clock—it was already late, and you wondered how long you’d been lost in thought.
As you reached the bottom of the stairs, the sight of him slumped over on the small loveseat in the living room tugged at your heart. His long frame seemed crammed into the little seat, the edges of the cushions barely accommodating his size.
“Terry…” you called softly, barely rising above a whisper. He lifted his head at the sound of your voice, eyes widening with surprise and a hint of hope.
“Yeah,” he replied, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, his voice thick with fatigue. “Um...” you started, crossing your arms over your chest, unsure how to proceed.
The remnants of the hurt and irritation still lingered, yet the sight of his uncomfortable state and weary expression stirred something inside you.
“Come to bed,” you said softly with no expression, and his expression shifted to relief. “Are you sure?” Terry asked, a mixture of cautious optimism laced in his tone.
“Yeah, just…come on,” you replied, trying to sound more convinced than you felt. Terry was always so imposing as he stood up but looked helpless and small.
Without another word, he followed you back upstairs, and the silence between you felt thick. As you entered the bedroom, you climbed back into the bed, the sheets still warm where you had been.
Terry lingered by the door momentarily, hesitation clear on his face. “Are you still upset?” he asked, his voice soft yet heavy with concern. “I am,” you replied, not wanting to lie or sugarcoat the situation.
“But I don’t want to sleep alone. Maybe we can talk more tomorrow when we’re both in a better headspace.” You said softly. Terry nodded, understanding and regret evident in his eyes.
With a heavy sigh, he climbed into bed beside you, leaving a respectful and cautious distance between you. The silence hung between you until it was almost suffocating, but neither knew how to break it.
Instead, you both lay there, staring at the ceiling and pretending to be asleep. Eventually, sleep found its way to you both. The night felt long, but eventually, morning came with the promise of a new day.
As the sun peaked through the curtains, you stirred awake first, feeling the warmth of Terry's body against you, and you glanced over at him; your heart softened just a bit as you watched him breathe softly.
After last night's argument, some of you wanted to stay angry and distant from Terry, but another part just wanted things back to normal. You knew in your heart that you two would work this out somehow.
You turn over, gently reach over, and place your hand on his cheek before returning to sleep. Terry stirred slightly and cracked open an eye if you felt your touch even in his sleep.
Terry softly smiled at your sleepy state, knowing he had to make things right. He reached for his phone, the soft glow illuminating the dim room.
Sitting up, he took a deep breath, preparing himself for a tough day ahead—not at work, but at home. He scrolled through his contacts, dialing in to call your uncle.
“Hey, Uncle Eddie,” he said after a few rings. “I won’t be coming in today…yeah, personal reasons. I need to be home…Okay, thank you.” As he hung up, he glanced over at you, still half-asleep.
Terry slid out of bed quietly, careful not to wake you. Padding softly to the baby’s room, he gently lifted Elijah from the crib. Cradling him in his arms, he marveled momentarily at how small and innocent his son looked.
“Good morning, little man,” Terry whispered, bouncing Elijah slightly as he went downstairs to the kitchen. He set the little one in the high chair, securing him safely with the straps.
The baby’s sleepy gaze slowly transformed into a wide-eyed curiosity as he watched his daddy move about the kitchen. With Elijah happily sitting in his chair, Terry began preparing breakfast.
Terry rummaged through the fridge, pulling out eggs, milk, and fresh fruit. As he cracked the eggs into the skillet, their sizzling brought a sense of calm.
Cooking had always been a form of therapy for him. “Let’s get you some breakfast, too, huh?” he chimed to Elijah as he quickly poured him a bottle.
Terry could hear Elijah's soft noises of delight, making focusing easier. Deep down, he hoped that doing this would show you his sincerity.
After feeding Elijah, Terry made a generous portion of the breakfast for you and himself and set the table. As you wake up to an empty bed, you glance at the time and feel slightly panicked.
However, you hear Terry's voice through the baby monitor, talking to Elijah in the kitchen about you, hoping this would be the start of you forgiving him for your argument last night.
As you got out of bed, rubbed the sleep from your eyes, went to brush your teeth, and washed your face before strolling downstairs towards the kitchen.
The aroma of breakfast wafting through the air, making your stomach rumble. Terry turned as he caught sight of you, a sheepish smile lighting up his face.
“Morning,” he said warmly, his voice brightening the atmosphere. “I hope you’re hungry. I made your favorite,” he added; you tilted your head, curiosity piqued. “My favorite?”
“Yeah,” he replied, setting a plate on the table before you. “Eggs, pancakes, bacon, and fresh fruit. I know you usually love a little bit of everything.”
As you sat, Elijah babbled enthusiastically in his high chair, excited to see both of you. You couldn’t help but smile at your son and kiss his forehead. "Good morning, baby boy"
You started to eat, the first few bites eliciting a sense of normalcy you desperately craved. “Thanks for making breakfast, Terry,” you said softly, focusing on Elijah. “It smells amazing.”
“I wanted to do something nice for you,” Terry admitted, taking a deep breath before continuing. “I know.....last night. I hate that we left things unresolved.”
You looked up from your plate, gauging Terry’s expression. His eyes were sincere, mixed with an undercurrent of regret. “Yeah, I appreciate that you’re trying this morning.”
Terry nodded slightly, the weight of his guilt apparent in each motion. “I just want you to know again I’m sorry about what I said. I didn’t mean it. I was just frustrated, and I didn’t handle it well.”
You paused before responding. “I get that, Terry, but when you said that to me...my heart broke, and I thought we were locked on this, I thought-.”
“I know,” he replied, his tone dropping to a more serious level. “It’s just so hard sometimes, balancing everything— Elijah, work, our marriage. I let the stress get the best of me and took it out on you.”
"Well, I think we really need to work on our communication because ever since Elijah was born, I feel like we've lost sight of that strength we've built," you said, your voice filled with realization.
Terry acknowledged the tension in his shoulders, easing just a bit. “You're right. I've noticed it, too. I miss how we used to talk, how we could share anything without worry.”
You swallowed hard, the weight of those words resonating deeply. “Yeah, me too. Remember those late-night talks we used to have? We'd stay up for hours just dreaming about our future, making plans together. Now it feels like we're just trying to survive the day.”
“Yeah,” he said, his expression softening. “I want to go back to that. “We have to find a way to carve out time for us, even if it's just small moments here and there.”
“What do you think that looks like?” you asked, genuinely curious. “How can we make it happen?” you added. Terry took a moment, clearly contemplating.
“Maybe we could set aside a few minutes each night after Elijah goes to bed. We could just talk about our day or even watch something together. Something light and fun.”
“That sounds nice,” you replied, a smile creeping onto your face. “I would love that. But I also think we need to be able to have those conversations when things get tough. It can't all be about being positive; we must address the heavy stuff, too.”
Terry thoughtfully, his brow furrowed in concentration. “You're right. I think it's so easy to avoid conflict, thinking it will just resolve itself. But it won't, will it? We have to face it head-on before resentment builds up.”
“I can be guilty of that too,” you admitted, feeling the weight of the past few months crash over you. “I've been just bottling things up instead of expressing my feelings. It’s easier to keep the peace, even if it eats away at me.”
“I get that,” he said softly, his gaze steady on you. “But I promise to do better. I want to hear what you say, baby, no matter how difficult. I care about your feelings and will be a better husband; I want to be a better husband.”
Your heart swelled at his words. “Thank you, Terry. That means a lot, and you are a good husband and a father. We're in a tough patch, and I'm sure we'll get through. I want you to feel the same way. We need to make this a mutual effort. If I ever say something that bothers you, please don't hesitate to let me know.”
Terry reached across the table, taking his hand in yours. “You have my word. And I hope you know I'm committed to strengthening our marriage. There's nothing more important to me than you and Elijah; “I love you, baby.”
"I love you too, Terry." With those words lingering in the air, you both shared a transformative moment of understanding. It wasn't an immediate solution to all your problems, but it was a solid step.
-
The past few weeks have been a turning point for both of you. Communicating openly like you used to, sharing your thoughts and feelings without the weight of tension lingering in the air, had lightened the load on your heart.
As you and Terry cuddled on the couch, the warmth of his body against yours felt comforting. The lamp's soft glow lit the room just enough to create an intimate atmosphere.
You watched Elijah through the baby monitor, sleeping peacefully in his crib. “Wow, you came through, huh?” you said playfully, playing with his ears.
“I feel like I barely had to lift a finger with the housework and Elijah. You got my back like that?” You said with a smile. Terry chuckled, leaning closer to you.
“Well, if I keep you happy, it’s a win-win situation, right?” He pretended to flex his muscles, and you both laughed at the moment's silliness.
“You’re so crazy,” you teased, smirking at him. “But real talk, I appreciate it. I feel like I can finally breathe again. It’s been a minute since we had this together.”
“Right? I missed this, alot, I mean a lot a lot ” Terry expressed, his face turning soft. He brushed his thumb along your cheek, making your heart flutter.
“You know I love you, sweetheart, I wanna see you shine and be happy,” Terry said, and you smiled, feeling a little bashful under his gaze.
“Aww, Terry, I love you too so much. I know I can get caught up in my head often, but having you step up like this? It just makes me feel so much better.”
Terry leaned in closer, his breath warm against your lips. “You keep saying how I stepped up, but it’s us together making it work. You’re the heart of this whole household, baby.”
Terry paused momentarily, still gazing into your eyes, and you could feel the heat rising between you. “We’ve been keeping things going in the house lately, being a team.”
“True, that's how it's supposed to be. And it feels good to be back in sync,” you responded, feeling at ease. “It’s nice to know you’re all in, and I’m all in too.”
With that, Terry leaned in, capturing your lips with his in a slow kiss. It was sweet at first, but gradually, it deepened, both of you melting into the moment as your bodies relaxed against each other.
A playful glint sparkled in his eye when he gently pulled away, hinting at a fun idea. “You know,” he said, his voice brimming with excitement.
"We should plan a little family getaway. Somewhere we can kick back and truly relax.” He said deeply low. “A vacation?” you replied, raising an eyebrow in intrigue.
“Really?” you asked, and Terry leaned closer, the enthusiasm contagious as he continued. “Yeah! How about we spend a weekend at that villa we used to visit in Cancun?"
"And we could invite your parents to join us. It would be an excellent opportunity to unplug from all the chaos and have fun.” His eyes lit up with the thought, a sparkle mirroring his excitement.
You couldn't help but bite your lip, imagining the warm sands and gentle ocean breezes. “That sounds amazing! I adore that place. It holds so many wonderful memories for us."
"—it’s where it all began. Plus, this would be Elijah's very first vacation! What a special way to introduce him to such a beautiful location.” You gasped.
Terry chuckled softly, “So, you wanna do it?” You nodded enthusiastically, a grin spreading across your face. “Let’s do it! I can already envision the memories we can make.”
Cancun, Mexico
The sun hung high in the cerulean sky, casting a warm golden glow over the peaceful Cancun shoreline as the day unfolded—a perfect Sunday morning.
The gentle sound of waves lapping against the soft, powdery sand created a soothing rhythm while a refreshing breeze played against your dark-brown skin, carrying the faint scent of salt and beach flowers.
Elijah giggled uncontrollably as he splashed playfully in the sandy oasis around him. Tiny grains of sand stuck to his little fingers and toes, glistening like miniature jewels in the sunlight.
You and your mom were fully immersed in the moment, working together to construct an elaborate sandcastle. Its towers rose proudly, decorated with seashells and bits of seaweed, as you all hoped it could withstand the approaching tide.
“Look at you, Eli! You love the sand, huh?!” you exclaimed, your heart swelling with affection. The moment's joy was captured forever as you snapped a picture of his bright smile, his hazel eyes sparkling with delight.
Elijah's laughter echoed around you, filling the air with pure joy as you and your mom continued to shape the sandcastle. Your dad strolled, still wet from his time on the jet skis, with a broad grin.
“Y’all got some serious skills over here!” he called out, surveying the castle. "That’s lookin’ like a real palace for my grandbaby!" Your mom chuckled, smoothing out a rough edge of the sandcastle.
“A palace fit for a prince! Ain’t he just the cutest?” She looked down at Elijah, who was now trying to pick up a handful of sand and giggling when it slipped through his tiny fingers.
“Right?” you replied, grinning. Your dad squatted beside Elijah, chuckling as the baby reached out toward him, his little hands covered in sand.
“Hey, Eli? Are you makin’ masterpieces over here? You tryna start a sand empire?” He asked. Elijah let out a squeal of delight, and your dad couldn’t help but laugh.
“Aww, look at that smile! He’s sayin’ ‘I got this, grandpa!’” Just then, Terry wandered back from the jet skis, a towel draped around his neck.
“What's going on? Y’all makin’ a sandcastle? I wanna see!” Terry said, leaning down, peering curiously at Elijah. “And there’s my number one fan!”
“Look at him, Terry!” you exclaimed, scooping Elijah into your arms as his face lit up at the sight of his daddy. “He’s ready to take on the beach. He’s got sand in places I didn’t even think was possible!”
Terry laughed, reaching out to tickle Elijah’s belly, causing him to burst out in another fit of giggles. “Man, how did we get so lucky? He’s a whole treasure out here!”
“Right, such a blessing!” your mom chimed in. You looked at the happy scene around you—your parents, your husband, and your precious son—and felt your warm heart swell.
“This is what it’s all about, y’all. Family!” You said softly, and Terry smiled at you sweetly. “That's right!” your dad agreed, throwing an arm around your shoulders.
“We gotta make the most of these days, y’know? Family, fun, and all this love. Ain’t nothin’ better!” With everyone laughing and loving on Elijah, the sun shone brightly overhead, casting a golden glow over your little beach paradise.
Later.
The afternoon unfolded beautifully as your family gathered around the spacious dining table at the villa, sharing a delightful lunch filled with laughter and stories.
The warm sunlight streamed through the large windows, casting a golden glow on the cozy living room where everyone eventually settled in. Plush cushions beckoned from the oversized sofas, and the aroma of delicious food lingered in the air.
Your parents, visibly relaxed and content, cherished their time with Elijah, engaging in lighthearted conversations that filled the room with joy and warmth.
Terry leaned over to you, a playful grin on his face. “How about a little adventure?” he whispered, eyeing your parents, who were busily playing their grandson.
“What do you have in mind, handsome man?” you asked, intrigued. Terry glanced toward your mom and dad. "Well, I would you love to take you out for dinner? Just the two of us?”
Your heart raced with excitement. “Really? What about Elijah?”
“Don’t worry,” he replied, giving you a reassuring smile. “I’ll ask your parents to watch him, so we can have some time for ourselves.” You couldn’t help but feel a warmth spread through you at the thought of a romantic evening.
With every detail, he sparked a thrill in your heart that had been dormant for too long. “Okay, you’ve got a deal!” You said with a smile, you rushed upstairs to freshen up.
You pulled out a multicolored sundress adorned with shapes and designs. You applied some light makeup, focusing on a touch of lip gloss that shimmered in the fading sunlight.
Staring at your reflection, you felt nostalgia and excitement, feeling beautiful and ready for the evening ahead. When you returned to where your parents and Elijah were gathered, your dad raised an eyebrow with a teasing smile.
“Wow, look at you, miss thang! Someone’s got a hot date!” He teased, and you laughed. “Just a little dinner with Terry. He has a surprise planned for us.”
"Sounds wonderful! And you two deserve it, sweet pea." Your dad said with a light smile on his face, and your mom clapped her hands together.
“Yeah. We’ll take good care of Elijah. You both go enjoy your night!” Your mom said with a smile, and you nodded, giving Elijah a kiss on the forehead before leaving.
You met Terry at the beach's edge, his eyes lighting up as he took in your dress. “You look stunning, baby,” Terry said, taking your hand as you walked together towards the car.
The drive was filled with easy conversation and laughter. As you neared your destination, you noticed a seaside restaurant nestled under twinkling lights, music wafting from within.
“Is this our spot?” you asked, excitement bubbling. “Yup! I figured we could have a nice dinner followed by some dancing,” he said with a wink, holding the door open for you as you stepped out.
Inside, the ambiance was warm and inviting, with flickering candles on the tables and soft music playing in the background. After being seated, you both ordered and sipped on lemonade while discussing anything.
Terry leaned back in his chair, a playful smirk dancing on his lips. “So, you got any plans for when we take over the dance floor, huh?” he teased, his eyes glinting with mischief.
You chuckled softly, tilting your head. “Oh, don’t you worry about that, Mr. Smooth! I’m ready to turn this place out.” You twirled strands of hair around your finger, feeling the chemistry between you.
Terry raised an eyebrow and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Oh really now? Do you think you can keep up with me? I might spin you so fast you'll forget where you are!”
You laughed, biting your lip playfully as you met his gaze. “Honey, I was born ready! Just wait till I hit you with these hips. You ain’t seen nothin’ yet.”
“Is that a challenge, baby girl?” Terry asked, feigning shock as he leaned closer. The scent of his cologne wrapped around you like a warm hug.
“Because if it is… well, I’m here for it.” His voice dipped low, drawing you in. The waiter arrived with your appetizers, but neither of you paid much attention.
Your eyes were locked in a playful duel. “You know I never back down from a challenge,” you replied boldly, lifting your glass in a mock salute before sipping the lemonade.
He watched every move you made with a smile that made your heart flutter. “And that’s exactly why I love ya,” he said softly, his tone turning more sincere.
It felt like old times, just the two of you in each other's company, the laughter ringing like music. After dinner, the music softened, and the atmosphere turned more romantic.
Terry stood, extending his hand to you. “Shall we?” With a smile, you took his hand as he led you to the dance floor, where the soft light danced around you like fireflies on a warm summer night.
As you swayed together, you felt the rhythm of the music seep into your bones. Terry pulled you closer, his hands resting gently on your lower back, confidently guiding you.
The world around you faded, and it was just him and you, lost in this moment. You could feel the warmth radiating from his body, his breath brushing against your ear as he whispered sweet nothings that made your heart swell.
“Look at you, movin’ like you own this floor,” Terry murmured, admiration dripping from his voice. “Ain’t nobody can do it like you can, sweetheart.”
You felt a rush of heat at his words, a giddy thrill igniting your chest. “Terry,” you replied, biting back a smile as you twirled under his arm, relishing how he effortlessly caught you again.
“You know how to make a girl feel special.” You said, resting your head against his shoulder, feeling the steady beat of his heart sync with yours.
Terry chuckled lowly, tilting your chin up to meet your eyes. “Nah, baby girl, it’s all about you. Every move, every glance— I can’t help but be mesmerized,” he said earnestly.
“You’re my whole world.” His gaze held yours captive; it was intimate and raw, each word wrapping around your heart like a warm embrace.
“You know what you are doing!” You laughed lightly as your cheeks warmed under his adoration. “Maybe...but I'm just speaking the truth,” he whispers, kissing your lips.
The kiss was soft at first, a gentle brush that sent shivers down your spine. Time seemed to slow as you melted into him, the world around you fading.
You could taste the sweetness of the lemonade mingled with the warmth of his breath, an intoxicating blend that left you craving more.
As the music swelled, so did your passion. Terry deepened the kiss, his hands roaming from your waist to your ass, pulling you closer as if he wanted to erase any space between you.
“Baby,” Terry breathed against your lips, a teasing lilt in his voice. “You gotta know what kinda hold you got on me.”
You laughed softly, feeling emboldened by his affection. “Oh really? Is that right?” You leaned in closer, brushing your lips against his cheek, an invitation that promised more.
“Yeah...hey, I have something else special,” he replied with a playful smirk. His eyes sparkled as he twirled you again, then pulled you back into him, letting the music guide your movements.
“After this amazing dinner, what could you have else planned, Terry?" You asked as your bodies moved harmoniously, hips swaying together like they were made for this dance.
This moment where nothing else mattered. "You'll have to see, come on," he whispered, took your hand, leading you back to the table to settle the bill.
“You ready for this?” he asked, glancing at you with that glint in his eye that always made your heart skip. “Ready as I’ll ever be! Let’s go!” you answered, excitement bubbling over.
You stepped out into the cool night air, hand in hand. You two were in the car again and eventually made where you two were going. “Terry, where we goin’?” you asked, curiosity bubbling up like champagne, your heart racing as he pulled you along.
“Just trust me, baby,” he said over his shoulder, his smile mischievous and inviting. “I promise it’s somethin’ real special.”
You squeezed his hand, excitement surging through you as he navigated through the small villa. Every step was a tease; every turn held the potential for surprise.
Finally, he stopped in front of an ornate wooden door. He turned to you, letting go of your hand just long enough to pull out a small key from his pocket.
“Now, don't be peekin',” Terry said with a grin as he unlocked it. Your anticipation heightened as the door creaked open, revealing a cozy space bathed in warm golden light.
“Oh wow…” you breathed as you stepped inside, your heart leaping at the sight before you—a smaller villa impeccably decorated with rich crimson roses scattered across the bed and soft candlelight illuminating every corner.
“Surprise!” Terry announced proudly, closing the door behind you both. “I figured we needed a little time on this vacation just for us.” You spun around to face him, unable to contain your joy.
“Terry! This is, this is so beautiful and sweet! You really thought of everything!” You said softly, looking at him happily.
“Aww, you know I had to treat you right, baby. “Ain't nothin' but the best for my queen,” he said, his voice smooth like honey as he stepped closer, closing the space between you two.
You could feel the heat radiating off his body, sending shivers down your spine. “Terry, I love you,” you replied with a grin, your heart fluttering like a butterfly in spring.
Terry's eyes danced with mischief as he leaned down, brushing his lips against your ear. “Oh, baby, I love you too," Terry said, reaching for your waist.
Terry pulled you against him as his lips met yours with an urgent hunger. The kiss ignited a fire within you, deepening as he playfully nibbled on your bottom lip.
“Taste so sweet,” Terry murmured against your mouth before pulling away just enough to gaze intently into your eyes. His hands slid down to cup your ass, lifting you up slightly to the bed.
“I've been wanting you all night” Terry growled, his breath hot against your skin as he sat you on the bed. The soft sheets beckoned you both as he laid you down gently, his eyes never leaving yours.
“Look at you” Terry teased, a devilish grin playing on his lips as he traced a finger along your jawline. “Got all dressed up and ready for me; now it's time to rip that shit off.”
With that, he started peeling off your dress, bra, and panties like they were the layers of an onion, revealing every inch of your skin to him." fuck baby,” he said appreciatively, feasting his eyes on your body.
“You're so damn stunning.” His voice dropped low, sending shivers through you. “I could get lost in you.” He added. “Oh, Terry…” you breathed out, feeling the heat between you two intensify.
Terry leaned closer, his hands exploring every curve and dip of your body before trailing down to your thighs. “You smell good, too,” he murmured as he kissed down your neck, savoring the taste of your skin.
“I bet you taste even better.” You could feel the electricity crackling as he moved lower, his lips brushing against your stomach. “Gonna make you scream my name tonight,” he promised with a wicked glint in his eyes.
“Baby, don’t tease me like that,” you replied breathlessly, biting your lip in anticipation. His presence was intoxicating, and every moment felt like it was building to something spectacular.
“I ain’t teasin’; I’m just gettin' started,” Terry responded, his voice dripping with a sultry confidence that sent heat racing through your veins.
Terry grinned, eyes glinting as he knelt between your legs, his breath warm against your skin. “Now open up for me, mama,” he commanded softly, the authority in his tone making your heart race even faster.
“I wanna taste that sweet, wet pussy of yours the way you know I can.” He said sensual and you shivered at the intensity of his gaze, feeling wholly exposed yet utterly safe in his presence.
“Terry,” you gasped, your body arching instinctively toward him. Terry smirked as he spread your thighs wider, the anticipation hanging thick in the air.
With no warning, he dove in hungrily, lips wrapping around your most sensitive spot and sucking gently while his tongue flicked teasingly over you.
The sensation hit you like a tidal wave, sending shocks of pleasure coursing through every nerve ending. "Oh, shit! Terry," you moaned, gripping the sheets as waves of ecstasy washed over you.
“You taste so damn incredible,” Terry growled against you, the vibrations sending another jolt of pleasure through your core. “Like candy…I could spend all night down here.”
His tongue danced expertly, swirling and teasing as he took his time savoring every inch of you. “Don’t stop… Please don’t stop,” you begged, your voice breathy and filled with desperation.
You could feel it building inside you, a tight coil of pleasure that threatened to burst. “I’m close, baby! Just like that!” You cried out, the words tumbling from your lips as his mouth worked its magic.
“Yeah, that’s it,” Terry growled, deepening his rhythm as he added a finger, sliding it inside you just right. “C’mon, let me feel you.” He watched with satisfaction as your body responded to him, arching and writhing beneath his touch.
“Tell me how good it feels, sweetheart,” Terry demanded, his voice thick with desire. You could barely form words; each syllable was swallowed by the overwhelming waves of pleasure crashing over you.
“It feels… so fucking good, Terry!” you gasped out, your hand finding the back of his head, pulling him closer as if that could draw him deeper into you. “Don’t stop… I need to cum.”
“Then do it for me,” Terry urged, his tongue flicking faster against your sensitive bud while pumping his fingers in and out of you with expert precision. “Let me taste all that sweetness.”
And just like that, the coil inside you snapped. You cried out his name like a prayer, waves of ecstasy washing over you as your body quaked in pleasure.
“Oh ahhh fuck, Terry!” Your voice echoed in the room as you caved to the bliss. He lapped at every sweetness that flowed from you, savoring your release as if it were the finest delicacy.
“Damn, baby! You’re so beautiful when you cum,” Terry said, kissing along your inner thighs. You were panted, barely able to catch your breath.
“That was…” You couldn't get the words out; they were still coming down from your high. “I know, baby girl,” he said, winking at you as he got off the bed to take his clothes off.
Terry climbed back on top of the bed, his muscular arms flexing as he positioned himself between your legs. His eyes locked with yours as he pressed the tip of his big, throbbing dick against your wet pussy.
“Tell me what you want, sexy,” he purred in your ear, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. “Do you want Daddy to make love to his good girl or fuck her senseless?”
You looked into his eyes, the fire igniting a corresponding flame within you. “Fuck me, Daddy,” you growled, the words leaving a wake of desire in their path. “Fuck me 'til I can't walk straight.”
"You got it, baby," he said with a mischievous grin. Terry slammed his dick inside you, filling you to the hilt and setting every nerve ending ablaze.
"Damn, mmmm...you feel so amazing!" His breathing was labored and erratic as he pulled back out slowly before slamming back in even harder.
"Goddamn, yes, Terry! yes, Fuck me like you mean it!" Your words mixed with moans as he relentlessly pounded into you. "Harder, Terry! I want it harder!"
"No problem, babe," he grunted, picking up the pace. Sweat beading on both your brows as your bodies slapped together in carnal rhythm. “I’m gonna give it to you so good,” he said with a moan.
"I know you will, Terry," you moaned. "I know you gonna fuck me senseless."
"You better believe it," he growled, reaching around to roughly squeeze one of your plump breasts, tweaking the hard nipple between his fingers.
"You like that, huh? You like it when Daddy squeezes your tits while he fucks you?"
"Yes! Yes, Daddy, I love it!" you cried out, arching your back to meet him stroke for filthy stroke. "Squeeze them harder, make me cum again!"
Terry obliged, pinching and twisting your nipples as he continued to pound into you mercilessly. Your moans filled the room, bouncing off the walls in a symphony of lust and desire.
"Oh shit, baby, I'm close," Terry grunted, his breath coming in short pants. "I'm gonna…I'm gonna…"
"Cum inside me! Cum deep inside of me and show me how much you love me!" you screamed, your own orgasm building up once more.
"Damn, my nasty girl," Terry groaned before picking up the pace even more. “Your pussy is so fucking tight, sweetheart. Feels like heaven. fuck I love you.”
As if that were the final push needed, both of you came undone together. Terry roared out his release as he pumped hot thick ropes of cum deep inside you.
"Terry, Terry, Terry" you screamed, chanting his name at the top of your lungs as your body quaked with another mind-shattering orgasm.
Your bodies trembled together as the last waves of pleasure washed over you. Terry collapsed on top of you, his weight a comforting presence as you both struggled to catch your breath.
After a moment, he rolled to the side, pulling you into his arms. "That was…incredible," you panted, nuzzling into his chest. "You're incredible," Terry murmured, kissing your forehead tenderly.
His fingers traced lazy patterns on your back as your heartbeats slowly returned to normal. You lay there in comfortable silence, basking in the afterglow.
#Terry Richmond x Black Reader#terry richmond x reader#terry richmond smut#terry richmond x black!reader#terry richmond fic#terry richmond fanfiction#aaron pierre#aaron pierre x black reader#terry richmond#terry richmond x black fem reader#black!fem!reader#black fem reader#terry richmond x black! fem plus size reader#terry Richmond x plus size reader#terry richmond x fem reader#terry richmond fluff#rebel ridge#terry richmond angst
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Hihi, congrats on 200 followers!! I'm a relatively new follower, and im absolutely OBSESSED with your writing (speaking of which, I apologize if I have been spam liking. I try not to but damn I really need your work injected into my brain or something)
Anyways, could I request childhood friends to lovers for your event? I don't know how or why but one day something just clicked in my brain and it's been my favorite troupe for years
thank you so much for your support!! i love it when people spam like my stuff because i just imagine someone sitting down to read what i've written, and it makes me so happy to know my writing is letting someone enjoy a few minutes of their day hehe, i hope you'll enjoy this little piece too!
itoshi rin is bad news. at least, that's what your classmates tell you in the stands of the u-20 match.
even though you've known him since he was barely a metre tall, it's the first time you've seen him like this. rin is darting across the field with crazed eyes and his tongue out, engulfed by a desperation that puts the despair he felt on the night sae came home to shame.
you can't jump to his defence this time, though. ever since you were kids, rin would smash his toys together so hard the plastic crumbled in his hands and tell you how and when he wants to die, although kids that age have barely started to think about living. so you keep your mouth shut but your heart hopeful, because despite his destructive tendencies, rin is still your friend, and deep in his eyes, you still see his seven year old self.
it's hard not to blame sae for this. you know how much rin respected his brother when they were younger, but you also know how their relationship soured, at least on rin's side of the story. you tamp down the resentment. no matter how much blame you want to throw around, it doesn't change that what rin needs is reprieve.
days later when rin hugs you at the dock, he thanks you. it's rare for a sixteen year old boy to speak so vulnerably, what's more if said teenage boy is itoshi rin, so you listen silently, lest the moment breaks.
rin doesn't elaborate further, but he hopes his heart gets through to you. he hopes you know how grateful he is for your tenderness, even when he's anything but. he hopes you continue to welcome him into your arms and trace featherlight circles on his back, and hopes you continue to come to his matches and never look away no matter what ugly side of him comes out on the field. he hopes you know how terrified he is right now, placing his heart in your palms and his neck to your blade.
it's only when rin feels your fingers in his hair that he realises he's mistaken. you've never held a knife to his pulse. instead, you give him your toys when he breaks his, you bring your friends to amplify your cheers for him in the crowd, and you're the one with your heart in his cold, calloused hands.
you've always been the salvation to his destruction, and unlike everything else he's ever laid his hands on, rin swears to never break your heart.
#isagispuzzle hits 200 followers!#blue lock#blue lock x reader#bllk#bllk x reader#itoshi rin#itoshi rin x reader#rin x reader#emma is thinking...
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Defending @lil-liaa
I usually don’t post in this blog cause i have other ones but i don’t think this is being fair, me and Lia have been moots for a year and I have seen all her work over the years, I don't know a more creative person than her and I have been with her while she makes her moodboards by call and it is simply impressive the hours she invests in doing it, today I She wrote so devastated and we made a call talking, she has worked on this for so long, I remember how excited she was when she reached 1k, what I mean is that her community and her blog are very important to her, these people are accusing her because three Posts are similar to those of other blogs and that seems stupid to me since you have not even seen her other posts to know if she really makes an effort or not, Lia has made collages, dividers, banners, and a lot of other things, to she is really passionate about digital art and the only time she left her blog was because of the loss of a loved one and the truth is I don't care how many people are going to believe me after this post I just want them to leave her alone, here I am attaching some evidence...
This doesn’t even have so much in common just a three pics, in case you don’t know how moodboards are made, 2 or more colors are taken as a base and the images that best match the tones are searched on Pinterest, not only what she "copied" are just two photos but she also made a divider and a collage
Here’s just pinterest pics (proofs that are from pinterest in keep reading) and again i saw a lot of rude comments towards her that so unfair and hurt feelings cause considering how long Lia has been on her blog it's like invalidating all her hard work!!
In this post she even clarify that the divider isn’t made by her but the collage it is, also it’s just 2 pics that are similar!
This pictures are from pinterest, everyone can use it!
People bullying her
This doesn't just happen on the internet, but in real life, one of Lia's moots simply republished the post where they accused her of copying, she asked him/her why he/her did it so quickly, If they were supposed to be moots, if someone betrays you so quickly without questioning anything, they were never your friend and instead of responding privately she/him made a post just to make her/him moots laugh and the comments are gross, my god it's disgusting, this is directly bullying, if you are a thinking person and if you have ever had some kind of link you should try to talk something privately instead of calling the crazy girl and tagging all your moots so they can laugh, the worst thing is that you can tell that this girl only wants interaction because when she and Lia were chatting she threatened Lia with blocking her but then when Lia blocked her she made another post like "she blocked me" it's like, besides being a treacherous rat you can't have the decency to talk to her about it, Lia has been so nice to everyone but after all, this is where you can see who the ones who truly supported her are, and not the fake friends.
I'm not going to censor his/her username, he deserves it, tumblr is as much as real life, the importance of moots is like friends in real life, because if you want you can just harass someone and all your friends will laugh without question anything.
Also, Lia has a tutorial of a lot of things that she made! If she knows how to do it, why would she steal or copy from other blogs?
She has tutorials of gifs, texts, banners, etc, if she really stole and copy, why she knows how to do it by herself?, and if she knows how to do it by herself she doesn’t even need to stole!
LIKE SHE DIDN’T CARE?! Sorry but this is so wrong, i can tell that, SHE CARES, all these people who are making posts mocking her and calling her crazy because according to them she "copied" three measly posts, when if I were in her place and all my years of work were at stake I would also act like a crazy person because it's worth it, here it is demonstrated clearly her hypocrisy, if Lia wants to defend all her hard work or defend herself from bullying by blocking you she is crazy but if she makes a post explaining everything it seems like she doesn't care, this frustrates me so much
Here more evidence of Lia’s drafts
youtube
Just a few of her drafts
And last but not least I want to give credit to Lia's great work these years, so you can see that there is a true artist behind all this nonsense controversy, here are some of her moodboards, my personal favorites that I can't imagine how much time it would have taken
Extra: “Lia we know it’s you” Don’t acuse me of being Lia, i’m just a real friend
Evidence: Contact of Lia and me
Hi guys, it's come to my attention that someone in the moodboard community known as lil-liaa has been copying / taking heavy "inspo" from other creators like @y-unjins and @iluvrei view more for more info + evidence + my opinions on the whole situation
before i start, i'm not trying to run lil-liaa off the platform nor am i trying to stur up drama, this is just to bring light to the situation as not many people know and many people (including myself) defended her when this first happened, i also want liia to realize that what she's doing isn't right and that she shouldn't just brush off "accusations" like these when there is evidence.
proofs
you can see the similarities as lil-liaa used 3 of the exact same pics as iluvrei's including one edited by the original creator without adding credits to the post.
2nd
here you can instantly tell that the moodboard was copied (lil-liaas on the right being an exact replica of y-unjins), only changing 2 pics excluding the idol change and
3rd / last
lastly, you can see how one lia used the exact same divider (+ didnt give creds), two she uses the same images not only in the moodboard but also in her gif (same pics from y-unjins moodboard including the png)
now, lil-liaa was sent multiple anonymous ask from last year and one recently accusing her of stealing moodboards, although a lot of people defended her last year including me due to the ask having no sorts of proof of moodboards being stolen and no one else speaking on it but now the recent ask she has received included proof and her response to it was very (in my opinion) rude and just sounded like she didn't care.
in my opinion, i don't believe this was just a draft she had premade and i don't believe she somehow got the same exact photos from y-unjins moodboard recommended, i believe since this isnt the first accusation and now there's proof of this i believe she has been copying moodboards since last year when she was accused. i don't believe lil-liaa cares about this, the fact she's stealing from other creators and when she gets called out for it she pushes it off with the same excuses
tags
@miujo @rkkuri @lvioung @ciestial @aeraras @sugarish @gyareii @i-kyujin @daddldee @i-mmaculatus @haerinism @chaeryeos @bloomqi @h-yeoni @p-oisn @bitchey @yeritos @yonkiibums @y-vna @y-urios @fairytopea @shuaver @yeoniis
#Youtube#kpop moodboard#lil-liaa#kpop aesthetic#kpop gg#danielle moodboard#bylilliaa#moodboardcommunity#clean moodboard#new jeans#kpop moots#twice moodboard
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The Pride Pin
"Have you got a little rainbow flag? Or maybe a rainbow handkerchief?" Edward asked the man behind the counter. He was on his way to a gay wedding and had seen a large pride flag in the window of this store which had given him an idea. "Basically something that I could put into my breast pocket for a wedding i'm going to." Before quickly adding: "To show my support to the grooms that is."
"Ah, how nice, although I'm afraid I only have large flags at the moment, but I do have a few pins left over from Pride, would one of those work for you?" replied the shopkeeper as he pointed to a box a little further down the counter.
"Looks perfect" Edward said as he picked up one of the pins.
"Just to check - you did say you wanted it to show you're an ally of the gay community didn't you? It's just that some of the items in this store can be a little, well, unpredictable, so just wanted to be clear about things before you try it on."
"Of course" Edward lied.
In truth Edward hadn't wanted to go to this wedding at all. He worked with one of the guys getting married, John. They had joined a law firm at the same time so had met during their induction and had been good friends for a while - at least until John had come out as gay and started dating guys. Edward was glad that John was happy, but had since mostly avoided hanging out together unless it was a work event. He had gone to one dinner soon after John's engagement to his boyfriend, Miguel, but had spent the whole meal feeling embarrassed. Everyone else at the table had been so obviously gay and they had made no attempt to talk quietly, so he was sure all the surrounding tables had been judging him all evening.
When Edward had received the invite to the wedding he had initially planned to decline it. What had changed his mind was the fact that a lot of John's straight female friends were going to be there, and with most of the other guys at the wedding being gay, it was almost guaranteed that he would hook up with one of the girls. He hoped that the pride pin was going to be the 'icing on the cake' with regards to getting attention from the girls. How could they turn down a guy who was so supportive of his friend? With any luck he would be back at home with a lady before the happy couple had even cut the cake.
"Here, let me put it on for you" the shopkeeper offered.
Edward had intended on keeping the pin out of sight until he had entered the wedding, but he didn't want to offend the shopkeeper so let him reach over and place the pin on his lapel - he'd just take if off as soon as he left the store.
Edward looked at the mirror behind the counter and his first thought was to worry that the pin might make the girls at the wedding think he was gay too. He started to wonder if it was a bad idea, and as if to confirm that he felt the pin prick his chest. Soon after he felt another prick and he wondered if the shopkeeper had failed to cover the back of the pin properly. When he started to feel more and more pricks on his chest, and not just where the pin was, he began to worry that something was wrong.
Edward felt like he was being stabbed with needles all across his chest and he felt like he had no choice but to pull his jacket off. He didn't know what was going on, but he needed to stop whatever was causing the pain.
Edward was confused. He had taken off his jacket and the pricking sensations had stopped, but when he looked down at his chest he didn't understand what he was looking at as it. What he first saw on his chest was a mix of colors that hadn't previously been there. It was as though someone had covered his chest in paint.
"¿Cómo?" Edward said aloud whilst continuing to stare at his chest. He had never had a tattoo so didn't understand what he was looking at. As he reached up to rub off whatever was on his chest it quickly dawned on him that the colors were not going to come off easily.
"What is this? Is this a tattoo? How do I get this off?" Edward asked in increasingly frantic tones, all with a slight Spanish accent. He had been so fixed on the new tattoos that he hadn't noticed that the rest of his body had taken on a subtle tan.
The shopkeeper didn't reply, he knew that if an item from his shop was not used as intended it could cause a little confusion for the customer, so he just waited to see what would happen.
"What is going on? And what's wrong with my voice?" Edward asked as he started to get angry. "I'm a dancer at Infernos nightclub and if you want to see me shake my ass... wait... no I meant to say i'm a dancer, no a dancer..." Edward had wanted to tell the shopkeeper that he was a lawyer at a powerful law firm and would kick his ass if he didn't fix what was going on but he didn't seem able to get the right words out.
Whilst Edward's mind tried to deal with what was going on, he started to wonder what sort of options he had to get rid of the tattoo, or what he could do just to cover it up. It was then that he looked back at the mirror and realised how much else had changed across his body. His heart sank as he knew there was no way he could cover everything up.
Edward sighed as he thought again about what to do with the tattoos, but was then confused. Why was he thinking of covering them up? He loved showing them off. He had spent so much of his life hiding who he was, but now there was no one who was going to stop him from being his true self. He was Eduardo - a proud Latino twink.
Eduardo felt the jacket he was holding and then remembered that he had come in to buy a new shirt. "Hey, do you have any dress shirts?" he smiled as he asked the storekeeper. "My best friend is marrying some fancy lawyer today and I want to look good for the occasion!"
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Harsh words from a beloved friend
Forgotten reader au scenario
Btw this was inspired by this post right here, and the concept and AU are NOT mine. They belong to @lovelybrooke . If you want to know more about the AU and support the creator, please do. They need all the love for their hard work!
WARNING! Before you read this fic includes: violence towards the reader, bullying, infantilization towards the reader, xenophobia? (I think idk), yandere behaviors, manipulation, gaslighting, and other topics that I may have forgotten that are probably triggering as well read at your own risk
A/n: whew, it's done finally. I hope you like it, everyone! Please tell me if I did represent infantilization inappropriately or not accurately in the comments. Constructive criticism is allowed. Also, if anyone can tell me what the headboard represents, it means you get your request written next!
You were lying in your bed relieved at last after barely surviving another harsh day at UA ever since the teachers and your classmates found out about you and Shigaraki's relationship for things have been going crazy and downhill, Aizawa would always have a strange expression on his face as if he was ashamed of himself and pitying you, it felt strange and discomforting like he NOW realized his actions which ticked you off a little but you brushed it pretending to be nonchalant about it
Next was your former friend Izuku, ever since he heard the news he and his gang would make constant checks on you which was very unnecessary in your opinion, izuku would purposely get in the middle of you and Neito's conversation, asking about your concerns and try to get you to spill out how you currently feel in his intention to try to be a better friend again by comforting you in his imagination to your luck tho Neito would shoo him off before he could even continue and quickly drag you away which you thanked him for.
But Bakugo and his friends were the worst. If not worse hell. Every time you walk into the class, they start to give you piercing glares as if they intentionally want to make you tense up. Their words have been becoming harsher during training but you tried to ignore them until they started using physical threats under a ruse as "jokes" Honestly you were scared for your safety so you tried to avoid them as much as possible, begging either Neito or Shinso to assist you while dismissing their questions or concerns, not even thinking what could happen if you were to ever run into them alone
Whenever you are, you repeatedly check your surroundings, making sure nobody is following you, making sure the coast is clear enough to make a run for it in your dorms and locking it.
You were beginning to be more skittish and more anxious about your surroundings always getting started by every single touch on the shoulder or when your friends tried to get your attention, whenever they asked about your sudden behavior you quickly pushed it to the side or made excuses
One day you decided to eat lunch with Tamaki since Hitoshi and Neito were busy with training and stuff, the two of you didn't talk much when eating together but you were comfortable with his presence enough to make some small talk here or there then continued eating, as you were enjoying your lunch Tamaki spoke something out the blue "y/n..are you ok?" You stopped eating and looked up at him "Of course I am why wouldn't I be" Tamaki hesitated a bit but he continued "Y-you're acting all skittish all of a sudden whenever we talk you feel like someone or something is watching you please I'm your friend you can tell me anything-" "I'm fine Tamaki I promise you dont need to be asking me" Tamaki was taken aback at your quick response you noticed his guilty expression and took a deep breath
"I-I'm sorry I'm just stressed from all the tests and stuff you know hero stuff can be stressful" A chuckle left your mouth as you took another bite "Oh alright if you say so but if anything birhtering you dont be afraid to c-come to me alright" you sighed in relief happy that Tamaki believed you so the Two if you continued with your lunch hang out
But that was so far from the truth
Tamaki knows when something is wrong especially when it comes to the people he cares deeply about, for example, he knows when Mirio is faking a smile or when he senses Neijire feeling uncomfortable or how Kirishima tries to stay determined even tho he can hear the slight tremble and stutter in his voice, and this time he now sees it more Cleary as he sees you slowly taking a bite out your food sweating in fear and your fingers twitch a bit it's so clear that you're nervous about something so why not tell him?
He swore to this day he swore he'd find out about whoever is causing you this, and he would protect you from them; for now, he just needs to keep a close eye on you from a distance...
When the two of you finished lunch, Tamaki offered to walk you to the class which you accepted as two if you walked towards your class in a comfortable silent, as you made it to the door you waved farewell to Tamaki and made it to your seat
As the class carried on and everyone was writing down notes for the next test, you couldn't help but feel some glares in you. Of course, you knew who they were, but you felt a particular glare, a glare that made your spine curl up. You wanted to ignore the feeling, but it just wouldn't go away curious but scared you grabbed a mirror/glasses (just any object that fits with a mirror) faced towards you, and slowly rotated it to see a reflection of a couple of your classmates
It seemed fine everyone was either focused on their notes reading or doing whatever until it hit Kirishima... you jumped when his eyes were staring directly at the back of your head intensely his teeth almost showing as if he was gonna rip you apart after class, your heart rate was now increasing you tried to steady your breathing to cover up the fear and confusion, why was he looking at you like..wait of course you know why but why does it feel like he's gonna do something to me...
You looked around to see something or someone to save you from this situation until you remember you do not have anyone in this class to rely on and Neito and Shinso were extra busy, as the class bell rang everyone got up to their seats including Kirishima he began slowly walking towards you with a dangerous glint in his eyes you stood still shaking a bit in your seat trying your best to avoid contact he was inches away from your desk
As he was about to take another step, a sickly sweet voice came out of the blue and blocked your view between Kirishima and you. "Why don't we go to the library for tutoring? We haven't done it in a while, plus I'll help you improve!" You looked up that the black ponytail girl momo was it? The two of you would do tutoring together at the beginning when she began to "forget" them and just stop hosting and inviting you all together
You didn't like her sessions at all now that you remember she would always treat you like some sort of baby early on as if she was holding an animal picture book and pointing out all the animals and mimicking the noises you were so glad Kendo and teru eventually teached you
But it seemed like you didn't have a choice, but you would rather go with a ponytail than wanna know that guard dog would do; all you had to do was zone out of Momo's lessons and wait until it got dark to make an excuse to meet up with Kendo, perfect plan right?
The library would've been peacefully quiet if it weren't for Momo constantly getting your attention to look at some words that you already knew and then talk to you slowly so you could "understand" better you muster up a smile at best to reassure her that you were listening when in your mind you wanted to leave as fast as possible and meet with Kendo
As the clock finally gave you mercy and struck 5pm, you hurriedly made an excuse to end today's session. "Oh man, momo, I think the tutoring session is up. Gotta leave!" You quickly got up, pulled in the chairs, and were about to walk out. "So soon? We just got started! Plus, I can do 2 more hours-" "Oh I would love to but I'm meeting up with Kendo and I don't wanna be a bad friend and ditch her" You didn't see Momo's cheery expression fall as you were too busy packing up and heading out the library "I'll see ya later!" You bid her as the door slammed shut the library became quiet once again with only the ponytail girl's blood boiling trying to keep her cool with a tight lip smile as she waved
You pull out your phone quickly texting her that you are coming which she replies with a smiley face emoji you chuckle texting her some memes and pictures as the two of you are spamming each other's memes back and forth you don't notice how much trouble you'll be in
As you accidentally bump into someone, you quickly backed away for a split second and apologized. You took your eyes out of your phone for a second to see who you bumped into to give them a proper apology and saw..
Oh no...
Kirishima
"You.." you mentally cussed as you backed away from him cautiously. "Oh uh hey-" "Don't 'hey' me, you traitor, you, Mole!" His anger was building up as he stomped towards you and pushed you on the ground; you could barely comprehend what the hell he was talking about and why he pushed you. "What-" "You sympathizer, you traitor. I don't even know how a villain like you could still be in this school!" His words are full of venom" "I know we were a bit harsh to you, but outing us out to the most dangerous fucking villain?! What the hell is wrong with you!?"
"I didn't know he was a villain nor did I know his name!? It's not like I knew he played video games!" "Again with these weak excuses, it was so obvious he was Shigaraki!" "Maybe I would've known I had friends and not be bullied by some blonde brute and his lapdogs!" Kirishima turned to you now with a more angry expression as if he was offended without a moment he grabbed you by the collar of your shirt and lifted you to his level
"You have no right to call us that when you're a simple Mole to a dangerous villain who is trying to kill us all!" He molded his free into a fist and reeled it back you bit his hand as hard as you could to make him let go but he bit his tongue and endured the pain even when his hand drew blood
As he was about to land a punch, a sudden tentacle came shooting out of nowhere toward Kirishima's free hand restraining it "Kirishima" The red hair froze at the familiarity of who that voice was, he slowly turned to see where the voice came from and only stopped mid way when he saw the indigo hair male, Tamaki his eyes glared at Kirishima in disappointment and betrayal, Kirishima quickly dropped you as you landed with a harsh thud, rude.
"T-Tamaki senpai!!, it's not what it is-" "insulting your classmate and was about to punch them? Yeah, seems how it exactly is." his words were cut off as he walked past him and toward you, gently helping you up and getting on your feet. "Are you okay? He didn't leave any bruises or marks on you, did he?" You shook your head, still in shock about Tamakis sudden behavior, as Kirishima's anger grew at the sight of the person he grew respect for that he looked up to! Is defending you?! He couldn't stand it
"Why are you defending them you don't know how much danger they put us through!" As Tamaki looked back at the boy with a serious expression," And, do you think bullying and degrading them is any better? This isn't something a hero should do, Kirishima. Have you ever thought about what they feel about it or if they intentionally wanted to?" Kirishima paused for a moment and didn't utter anything, only just avoiding his gaze. "I thought you were better than this, Kirishima; what happened to you being the "manliest hero in the hero alliance?" Was that all a ruse?" "N-no tamaki senpai it no-"
"I don't want you anywhere near me or them I don't respect someone who bullies others"
Those words shattered Kirishima as he looked in disbelief. His thoughts became a blur as he saw his mentor, his friend, leaving with his hands protectively around you, getting far away from him... was he the problem all this time?
Was he actually a lapdog?..
...
"Thanks back there you didn't have to." He stopped at his track and smiled. "No, It's fine. You weren't in the wrong anyway he was. Don't feel guilty for something you did that wasn't in your control." You looked up at him, surprised."You're not mad at me? even when I became a...mole?" That's when Tamaki embraced you with a warm hug "Of course not, even when you make a dangerous mistake like that it was the villain's fault for trying to get in your head and manipulate you but you stood strong and made the right choice by informing the teachers therefore you're not a traitor nor a Mole in my perspective"
Your eyes brimmed with tears with his words, "Thank you, thank you," as you hugged him back a little tighter. Was your luck finally turning around? Maybe not, but slowly, but at least you had more people who didn't see you as a nuisance, a child, or any traitor. It felt nice that you were treated as a human being Even if it was temporary.
A sudden buzz on your phone caught your attention, and it was still snuggled in your pocket. As you pick it up, you see a bunch of missed calls and messages from Shinso, Neito, and Kendo, all spamming concerns about your safety or if they needed to come. "Oh shit! I gotta run my friends are worried for me and Tamaki thank you I'm sure you're gonna be a great hero one day as you gave him one last hug before running off looking for you're friends before they hunt someone down to find you
Timeskip
The next day was a regular day as usual you went into class avoided everyone as possible (mostly Izuku and his gang) sat down at the back of the class and started the school day as you were doodling down stuff you noticed how dull and quiet Kirishima became when he usually would go to mina as they chat each other's ears off all-day but instead he stayed where he was and just looked down at his desk mina came over looking concern for him
"Hey Kirishima you ok man" The bubbly teen hit him on his shoulder playfully but he all did was look at her, nod, and go back to what he was doing which made the hair girl awkward and murmur an "ok" and sat back down when the teacher came in to start the lesson
Even at training, Kirishima didn't utter a single word to you or his friends. Even when they were teasing you, he just looked away. "Hehe, yeah, they're so weak, right? Kirishima, cmon say something!" His other friend Denki kept pressuring him poking his shoulder and urging him to speak but all smack his hand away and walked back leaving his friends in shock and disappointment
Even at lunch, he wasn't even interacting with anyone, just playing with his food as he barely ate. Everyone sat in silence and stared at him until his best friend finally spoke up, "The hell is up with your shitty hair?" He was then ignored as the red hair kept poking with his food staring down at it, making the blonde more irritated. He snatched his tray away and put it far from the table "Are you ignoring me?" Kirishima finally looked up at him with an annoyed expression "I just said millions of times I'm fine blasty so can I please have my food back" bakugo slammed his hand down hard infront of him
"Like hell you are! You've been acting quiet for the whole damn day! And It's getting pretty damn annoying, so spit it out. God damnit, I'm tired of this childish shit" "Kaccha,n, chill o, ut, . Don't you think you're being a bit harsh?" Denki butted him, trying to de-escalate the situation "he's right. What if he's having a bad day today? Or recently but he's right Kirishima we're all worried for you so please stop ignoring us and tell us" Everyone at the table joined him questioning and pressuring him to speak
He covered his ears not wanting to hear more without glancing a final Time at Tamaki and you talking and smiling at each other laughing tears began to brim his eyes as he got up from his seat and quickly ran out leaving his group and even Katsuki speechless
As he made it to the bathroom, he locked himself in there and took a deep breath. He then lifted his head and stared at the mirror, his reflection. "Why, just why did he have to go side with them fuck.." tears slide across his cheeks and fall through the sink he wanted to be angry at you so bad wanted to pin the blame on you or something to make him feel like he was in the right but the memories the flashbacks of how he and his friends mistreated you keep flooding back into his mind making him frustrated and yet gulity..?
Is he feeling guilty? For himself, no... for you, but how?! You're supposed to be the bad guy, not him. Why is he feeling remorse for you out of all people? Why does he suddenly feel like he wants to go on your knees and apologize it was supposed to be the opposite it's such a headache honestly and he couldn't make it stop he wants to stop thinking altogether
A knock at the door startled him and snapped him out of his thoughts. "Uh hey, is the bathroom available he stared at the door for a moment until he spoke up, clearing his throat, "Uh yeah, sorry! I'll unlock it!"
#yandere bnha#yandere ua#yandere x reader#yandere mha#platonic yandere#bnha angst#forgotten reader au#yandere fanfiction#ronantic yandere#tamaki amajiki#neito monoma#bakusquad#itsuka kendou#hitoshi shinsou#mina ashido#bakugo katsuki#denki kaminari#kirishima ejirou#yandere
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real love, baby - chapter one
Billy Hargrove x female! reader
Main Masterlist
Series Masterlist
Billy Hargrove Masterlist
Summary:
You get some life changing news, and telling Billy doesn’t go as planned.
Warnings:
Pregnancy, angst
Word Count: 2.8k
A/N:
Yay a new series! I’ve been dying to write for Billy again. I hope you guys like this, your comments and support mean the world to me.
When Billy had arrived at Hawkins High for the first time, roaring into the parking lot in his blue Camaro and wearing the tightest jeans known to man, he had caught the attention of every girl in school.
Including you.
You weren’t exactly…popular. Actually, you were considered a freak. Best friends with Eddie Munson and proud member of the Hellfire club, you caught a lot of shit from your classmates. You knew from the second you saw Billy Hargrove that you never had a chance.
You had never been more surprised to be wrong.
You knew Billy had a reputation for going through girls like crazy, sleeping with them and leaving them high and dry. Yet you still found yourself falling for him. And when he approached you and asked you out, you said yes embarrassingly fast.
“Asking you out” ended up being a late night trip to Lover’s Lake, making out before moving into the backseat and letting him fuck you. That might sound crude, but there was no better way to describe it. It certainly wasn’t making love.
Your late night visits with Billy became a regular thing. It was kept quiet - Billy didn’t tell anyone, and he acted like he didn’t know you at school. The only person who knew was Eddie, because he was your best friend in the world and you told him everything. He did not approve, but he wasn’t about to tell you how to live your life. He was just scared you’d get hurt.
Which, of course, you inevitably did. But we’ll get to that.
You held out hope that one day Billy might see you as more than a secret hookup, that he might take you out on an actual date and show you off at school, but you knew those were just dreams. Deep down, you knew Billy was embarrassed to be seen with you. He showed up at Hawkins High and became the most popular guy in school - he wasn’t about to let anyone know he was secretly sleeping with The Freak.
This routine worked out for a while. That is, until you had the realization you had skipped your period while you were throwing your guts up before school one morning. Ice cold fear struck into your heart, and you realized you had really fucked up.
That day you went to school looking nearly as bad as you felt. Carol Perkins giggled as you passed her in the hallway, whispering something to Heather Holloway. You had too much on your mind to care. Billy gave you a strange look when he saw you, but didn’t say anything.
You found Eddie, Gareth, Jeff and Grant at your usual spot in the cafeteria. You walked over and took a seat, not even bothering to get anything to eat because it would just come back up anyway.
Eddie did a double take when he saw you. “Jesus,” he said, taking in your messy hair, bloodshot eyes and melancholy expression. “What happened to you?”
The other guys were deep in conversation about the latest campaign. You leaned closer to Eddie. “I skipped my period. And now I’m getting sick.”
Eddie just blinked at you. He looked like he didnt understand - you saw the moment the realization dawned on him. “Oh, shit.”
“Yeah,” you agreed, looking down at the table. “Oh, shit.”
“Did you…take a test?” Eddie whispered, leaning in closer to you.
“No.” You picked at a loose string on the sleeve of your hoodie. “I figured I would go to the doctor so I don’t fuck it up.”
Eddie looked around the cafeteria before his eyes landed on you again. “Do you want me to take you?”
Your head snapped up to meet his gaze. “You would do that?”
Eddie smiled. “Well, yeah, of course. You’re my best friend. I’m not gonna make you go alone.”
You felt relieved to hear that. This was scary enough without having to go through it all alone. “I don’t know how I would have even made it there by myself without alerting my parents anyway.”
“Eddie Munson chauffeur, at your service,” he said with a bow. You snorted.
“Thanks, Eds.”
That evening after school you rushed home before your parents could get there and picked up the phone. You dialed the number for your primary care doctor’s office with shaking hands and made the appointment, not telling the receptionist over the phone what it was for. You figured you’d deal with that when you got there.
The next day passed in a blur. You looked presentable at least, but you had to leave class twice to go throw up in the bathroom. Billy gave you a concerned look when he saw you in the hallway again, but you ignored him.
After school you met Eddie at his van. He opened the passenger side door for you - “My lady,” he said with a dramatic bow - before jumping in the driver’s seat and starting up the old vehicle. You noticed Billy watching you from his Camaro where he waited for his younger sister.
Eddie blasted music over the radio while you drove. It made you feel better because you weren’t in the mood for conversation. The butterflies in your stomach made you feel like you could throw up again. You took deep breaths as he drove to keep the nausea under control. Eddie always drove like a maniac.
He pulled into the parking lot of the doctor’s office, some older ladies standing by their cars giving you a dirty look as the van tore into the parking lot blasting Metallica. Eddie didn’t notice.
He walked with you into the office, taking a seat in the waiting room while you went to reception to check in. You gave the receptionist your name, and she handed you a clipboard and pen and told you to take a seat.
The questions on the forms were standard. Your personal information, health history, medications, etc. By the time you finished with it, a nurse was opening the door and calling your name. Eddie squeezed your knee before you stood, letting you know he was here for support and would be right where you left him.
The nurse had you do the usual tasks - your weight and height, pee in a cup, and they took some blood samples. You waited in the exam room for the doctor, kicking your feet as you sat on the tall table. You felt more like a child than you had in the past few years.
When the doctor walked in carrying a clipboard and saying your name, you felt like you could throw up for the millionth time. He looked at you solemnly, and you knew it wasn’t going to be good news.
“Your pregnancy test came back positive,” he said. “Based on your bloodwork, I would estimate you at about 6 weeks.”
The room spun around you. You suddenly felt way too hot and claustrophobic in this tiny room. You wished you had asked Eddie to come back with you. You felt incredibly dizzy, like you could pass out. This was not happening. It was not happening.
“You’ll need to start taking prenatal vitamins,” he continued, oblivious to your internal panic. “I’ll give you some brochures with information and resources.”
You left the doctor’s office with a handful of pamphlets on pregnancy, birth, babies, and motherhood. Your face was white as a ghost, and Eddie clocked it the second you walked back into the waiting room.
“Oh, sweetheart,” he said, standing as you approached him and wrapping you in a tight hug. The tears fell as you buried your face in his chest. He stroked your hair, whispering comforting words in your ear. “Hey, it’s gonna be okay. We’re gonna figure this out. You’re gonna be okay.”
Eddie helped you walk back out to the van on shaking legs. You couldn’t stop the tears now. Your life was over. Billy was never going to want to stick around for this.
Oh, god. Billy.
You didn’t even want to tell him. It was going to be a disaster. He was already embarrassed for anyone to know you were hooking up, but for the whole school to know he had gotten you pregnant? He would never allow that.
You were on your own.
Fuck.
You wanted to skip school, but your parents weren’t buying the “I’m sick” excuse. Of course it was the one morning you weren’t throwing up everything you’d eaten the night before. You got yourself together as much as you could, dressing yourself in a band tee and your favorite ripped jeans.
Eddie stayed by your side as much as he could at school. He met you in front of the school and walked you inside to your first class. You were grateful for his support.
It was halfway through first period when the nausea hit you again. Your hand shot up, asking “Can I go to the restroom?” and then sprinting out of the room before you even got a response. You barely made it to the bathroom in time, locking yourself in a stall and falling to your knees as you threw up.
When you were done, your eyes were watering. You grabbed some toilet paper and wiped your face, flushing the toilet and standing up shakily. You straightened your clothes and unlocked the stall door, walking out into the bathroom.
Only to see Carol Perkins, of all people.
She gave you a smug smile, tucking some of her curls behind her ear. “Hope you feel better, Freak.”
You rolled your eyes and pushed past her back into the hall, but you couldn’t help the pit in your stomach, the voice in your head telling you this is very, very bad.
You were surprised that nothing seemed to come of it as you moved on to your next classes. By the time you went to lunch, you were wondering if maybe she just kept it to herself for once.
That bubble was popped by Gareth Emerson.
The second you and Eddie placed your trays down at your usual spots, all the boys looked up at you. Gareth, Jeff, and Grant all looked at you with pity, which made your stomach twist into knots.
“…What?” You asked hesitantly, your blood running cold.
Gareth looked at Eddie, then back to you. “Uh…Carol Perkins is telling everyone you’re pregnant.”
If you weren’t already nauseous, you certainly were now. It was suddenly hard to breathe, your hands gripped onto your tray tightly as you tried to focus and calm yourself, but it wasn’t working. Your breaths were coming in shorter, like you couldn’t get enough air into your lungs.
The feeling of Eddie’s hand grabbing your arm brought you out of it. His rings were cold against your skin, grounding you to reality. Your reality wasn’t that great, though.
“Jesus, are you okay?” Jeff asked.
“It’s not…true, is it?” Gareth asked, his eyebrows raised.
You burst into tears. You couldn’t help it. You covered your face with your hands, crying your eyes out. This seriously could not be happening like this. You knew it would come out eventually - I mean, you could only hide it for so long - but you weren’t ready for it now. You’d only had one night to wrap your head around it yourself.
“Oh god,” Gareth said. “It is true.”
Eddie pulled you into his chest, rubbing your back and giving Gareth a dirty look over the top of your head. “Sweetheart, it’s okay. Calm down.”
“It’s not okay,” you sobbed into his shirt. “Everyone knows. That means Billy’s heard. The whole school has heard. My life here was shitty enough, this is a whole other level.”
“Wait, Billy?” Gareth said, exchanging a look with Jeff and Grant. “Billy Hargrove?”
Eddie gave him another look. He stroked your hair, the soothing gesture helping to calm your racing heart. “It’s going to be okay. I promise. You’re going to be okay.”
Billy flicked the ash off his cigarette before bringing it back up to his lips. He leaned against his car, talking with Tommy Hagan. He was just about to leave when Carol came walking over, smiling like she knew something they didn’t.
“Hey baby,” Tommy greeted her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and placing a kiss on her cheek.
“Have you guys heard?” Carol asked, like she couldn’t wait to say whatever she knew. Billy wasn’t particularly interested, dragging on his cigarette one more time.
Tommy took the bait, however. “About what?”
When it was your name that came out of Carol’s mouth, it grabbed Billy’s attention fully. He glanced up at Carol nonchalantly, but he was listening intently.
“What about that Freak?” Tommy asked with a laugh.
Carol giggled. “She’s pregnant. I caught her throwing up in the bathroom during first period.”
Billy felt sick to his stomach. He tossed his cigarette to the ground, stubbing it out with his boot. “No way that’s true.”
“Why?” Carol asked, furrowing her eyebrows at Billy.
Because you would have told him, right? And he always used a condom. There was no way. “That Freak? No way she’s getting any action.”
Carol and Tommy laughed like Billy had said the funniest thing they’d ever heard. “I don’t know though,” Carol said, “Tina said she’s been running out of class to go to the bathroom all week. She’s definitely knocked up. It’s probably Munson’s. Two freaks in love.” Carol giggled, and Tommy started laughing again.
Billy forced himself to laugh, but nothing was funny. He wanted to throw up himself. “Hey, I left something in my locker. I’ll see you guys later.” He pushed off his car and walked back into the school.
He had to find you. He had to find out what the hell was going on.
You closed your locker as you got the last book you needed for your homework. You had waited until most of your classmates had left, the hallway deserted. The looks from your classmates all day had been enough. You shoved your stuff into your backpack, preparing to leave to meet Eddie at his van.
As you were walking down the hall, the doors opened and you saw Billy walking towards you. You felt like turning and running the other way. As he reached you, he nodded towards an empty classroom.
You thought about ignoring him, about leaving and letting Eddie take you home and maybe transferring schools and never seeing any of these people again. Instead, you followed him into the classroom.
Inside the empty room, Billy was pacing, running his hand through his dirty blonde curls. Your stomach hurt as you closed and locked the door behind you. When you reached him Billy spun on you, his eyes wild.
“Are you pregnant?”
You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath. This was not how you wanted him to find out. You thought you’d have more time, time to think about what to say and how exactly to break the news. Fucking Carol Perkins.
“Yes,” you said, opening your eyes to look at Billy.
He looked horrified. “You’re- it- it’s…mine?”
You bit the inside of your cheek, nodding slowly. “Yeah. It’s yours.”
Billy let out a rush of air. He started combing his fingers through his mullet again, pacing back and forth in front of you. “I- we- there’s just no fucking way. I used a condom every time.”
“Condoms can fail, Billy-“
“Bullshit,” he said. “I mean, yeah, but it’s so rare. There’s…there’s no fucking way you’re- pregnant with my kid.”
“You’re the only person I’ve slept with,” you reminded him, your voice small. You knew you weren’t the only girl he slept with. “And I went to the doctor. They did blood work. I’m definitely…pregnant.” The word was still hard to say.
Billy shook his head. “You- this is fucking insane. I’m not raising some kid.”
Your stomach dropped. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying…” he breathed out another rush of air. “I’m not doing this. Whatever you want from me, I’m not doing it. I’m not ruining my life to raise a kid.”
The tears welled up in your eyes. “So you’re saying you’re abandoning us.”
Billy scoffed. “‘Abandoning.’ I have more to live for than this. I was gonna…I was gonna get out of here.” He laughed humorlessly. “I was gonna get the fuck out of this shithole town. I was gonna go back to California. I…” He shook his head. “I’m not doing this. I’ll give you money for an abortion, I’ll take you to get it, whatever. But I’m not doing this.”
And with that he left, slamming the classroom door behind him and leaving you alone.
The tears really fell then. It was worse than you imagined. You were really all alone in this. Just you…and your baby.
On your own.
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@rincallistis
#billy hargrove#stranger things#billy hargrove x reader#billy hargrove angst#billy hargrove imagine#billy hargrove blurb#billy hargrove series#real love baby#keeryhours writes#dacre montgomery#billy hargrove x you#billy hargrove oneshot#billy hargrove one shot#billy hargrove x fem! reader#billy hargrove x fem!reader#billy hargrove x female reader#billy stranger things#stranger things x reader#billy hargrove x y/n#stranger things imagine#dad!billy hargrove
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Hello,
It’s nice to see you more active on here at the moment.
I was thinking about how you tend to say that the bi-bros who lean towards Sam are more in line with the GA.
But, I watch lots of reactors watch SPN for the first time, and they often lean towards Dean (I’d say 3/5), and I’ve heard a similar ratio say that they think Jensen is a noticeably better actor than Jared.
So, my questions are, are they letting fan expectations colour their reactions (hellers and Dean girls are very fast to pounce on new reactors), are they already Destiel curious from seeing edits in tumblr (I know of at least one who fits this), or do they acquaint “they make me feel emotional therefore they are the best actor”?
For me personally, on my first watch, Dean killed me with his love for family and Sammy and I empathized more with him usually, at least until Season 4/5 where he started pissing me off regularly. But, when I rewatch, I love episodes like Mystery Spot and Born Under a Bad Sign, or Souless Sam episodes because Jared is just so good when he gets something interesting to do. I find the Dean crying stuff less compelling on rewatches because it’s not as interesting to me (with a few expectations) after the first and second viewing. And acting at mirrors scenes gets old for me in particular very quickly.
In short, I think both are good, with different strengths, but I wonder why so many new viewers that I come across see Jensen as being stronger and Dean as being better. Do the just fail to see past the narrative bias? Or they just like Sean because he’s more fun?
Anyway, I appreciate any thoughts you want to share on this. And I’m also wondering if there is stats anywhere in GA favoring Sam?
First, because Sam girls commit “geek social fallacies” by also liking Dean because they love that Dean revolves around their Sammy. But Dean/Jensen stans don’t return the favor because they hate that Dean revolves around his Sammy so they hate on Sammy even though under their breath they’ve said if Jensen had been playing Sammy all along they wouldn’t change any of the writing. That’s why there appears to be a Dean bias in the SPN fandom because Sam fans also likes Dean.
It’s not a coincidence that Sam girls are the fandom’s official representative (all the meta fans on the show are Sam fans). The show is mostly Sam-centric, if the bitter Sam girls won’t believe me then believe Jensen’s interviews when he said that SPN is Sam-centric and called season 10 a "rare Dean-centric storyline". (X)
Second, Dean is supposed to be a scene stealer, that's what support-protagonist do. Often our favorite characters are not the protagonist but these scene stealers characters, they are usually cool or very funny. But it becomes a problem when producers try to capitalize on the character’s popularity, like creating a spin-off. Like spices, which can not take the place of the main course, scene stealers often fail as leads because their “special-ness” evaporates when they have to carry the show. It's why WB canceled Supernatural when Jared told them he was leaving, because they knew a Dean-led Supernatural wouldn't work.
So while I'm watching an episode, I am more drawn to Dean because he’s more fun or interesting to watch. However the next day I remember the episode through Sam’s actions and interactions. Some of my readers tell me that they were surprised that they seem to “forget” Dean when they recall specific storylines, I said that’s supposed to happen with the support-protagonist. We don't remember much of what John Watson did in the classic Sherlock Holmes or what was Nick Carraway's deal in The Great Gatsby.
It's the protagonist who mobilizes the story and stands out in readers’ or audiences’ minds. Dean needs interaction with Sam in order for the audience to even remember him because he's part of the protagonist’s story. It’s why I keep saying Supernatural is Sam’s story, it's his Hero’s Journey. Dean is at his best when he’s focused on Sam (which is why season 10 sucked and season 5 was kind of weak).
Third, Jensen is a personality actor and people are generally more drawn to them. Jared is a character actor who is trapped in a leading man role. Jensen has been Jensen “Dean Winchester” Ackles for the majority of his TV and movie roles since 1998. It’s why Jensen initially made a bigger splash with Dean in the early Supernatural seasons because he’s already been playing Dean for years since Days of Our Lives. In 2005 when SPN premiered, Jensen had a 7 years head start playing Dean compared to Jared who was just starting to play Sam and had to create Sam from scratch. By season 3, audiences began to notice Jared's versatile acting skills and he would soon be tasked with playing different characters because that's what character actors do.
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Dr. Hot Stuff
Summary: You're probably the only nurse who hasn't slept with Surgeon Johnny Storm and you're happy to keep it that way.
Warnings: Age gap, Implied smut, Medical setting, Talk about surgeries. Please let me know if I missed any!
A/N: Many thanks to @bigtreefest for help with the medical terminology and more!
A/N2: Reader is 35+ years old and female. No other physical descriptors used.
You feel like a zombie, asleep on your feet after an incredibly long surgery. As much as you liked being Dr. Beck's go-to nurse for long and complicated surgeries, it still took a hell of a toll on you. As soon as you were cleaned up and in fresh scrubs, you were headed to the sleeping area.
When the doorknob doesn't turn you blink as your brain tries to process why you're not already laying down. You try a few more times but nothing. Is it stuck? It's not supposed to be locked.
Then the sounds of giggles and moans pierce through your brain fog and you put the pieces together. Dr. Johnny Storm, aka Dr. Hot Stuff, doing his regular, pre-surgery "ritual" with one of the nurses. You roll your eyes and shake your head. You should break down the door just out of fully justified spite! But you know you won't get much support. Apparently Dr. Hot Stuff earned his nickname. If there's one thing you'll give Storm, it's that his partners have no complaints, and they are the type to complain.
You slink off to the break room to find a recliner for a nap.
You're startled awake by Johnny loudly celebrating his latest successful surgery. He's proudly proclaiming his mastery over the appendectomy to anyone and everyone who will hear. You roll your eyes and start getting out of the recliner. You should be used to these kinds of things by now. Young surgeons are always so loud and proud.
Before you can get out of the recliner, though, Johnny steps in front of you.
"If it isn't my favorite veteran nurse," he smirks.
"What do you want, Dr. Storm," you sigh.
"You know you can call me Johnny, like all the other nurses, right?" he raises an eyebrow, grin never dropping. "I'm just trying to be friendly but you keep shutting me out."
"I just woke up, Johnny. And I'm still very tired. I'd be friendlier if I could've actually slept in a bed." You give him your best glare, hoping it would get him to back off, maybe apologize.
Instead his smile widens, "oh, sorry about that. Next time I'll make sure you get to join in." He winks and you scoff.
"I'm out of here," you shake your head. "I've gotta get back to work."
"Wait, please, I wanna talk to you!"
"About what?"
His facial expression changes into puppy dog eyes that your certain would work on a younger you. "Can you put in a good word for me with Dr. Beck?"
Your eyebrows crinkle in confusion. "What?"
"I'm doing so damn well with these appendectomies and cholecystectomies that I could do them in my sleep," he explains. "I want to get into doing the interesting surgeries, the ones that'll help my career, you know?"
"You haven't mastered the mundane yet," you tell him and he rolls his eyes while giving you a groan. "It's incredibly important for surgeons, especially new ones like yourself, to get experience with the variety that can come from even a simple procedure."
"What variety?" he protests. "It's all the same procedure. The same hand motions. The same instructions."
“You’re about to sever the common bile duct but your view is partially blocked by a section of hard adipose tissue. What do you do?”
"Predict where the duct continues under the fat tissue and make the incision,” he shrugs as if it should be obvious.
“WRONG," you loudly scold. "You just nicked the hepatic artery. Your patient is bleeding out.”
He starts pouting but you continue to grill him. You can tell he's studied but he's just too inexperienced and he continually falls short. Given how red he's getting, you can tell he knows it as well. When you finally let up on the questions he backs up so you can get out of the recliner but he's definitely not happy.
"Bet you'd put in a good word for me if you helped me with my pre-surgery ritual," he grouses.
"Not gonna happen, Junior."
"You sure?" he raises an eyebrow in that way you know works on the younger nurses. "I bet I could make you feel young again."
"I'm sure. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna get back to work."
"I'll get you to change your mind one of these days," he promises with a wink.
You roll your eyes and shake your head. "Whatever helps you sleep at night."
"Ooo! Giving me permission to think of you next time I can't sleep?"
You facepalm. "I walked right into that one."
Tagging: @alicedopey; @darsynia; @delicatebarness; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @irishhappiness; @lokislady82; @ronearoundblindly; @thiquefunlover63
#johnny storm x reader#johnny storm x you#johnny storm x female!reader#johnny storm x f!reader#surgeon!johnny storm#doctor!johnny storm#doctor!johnny storm x nurse!reader#johnny storm x older!reader
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