#i was supposed to be the gifted kid i was supposed to get good grades i was supposed to have a good life as a teenager im fucking

[cinnamoneve]

𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐚.

atelophobia \ əˌtɛləˈfəʊbɪə \ (n.) - the fear of imperfection of not being good enough.

❆ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: gojo satoru x gn!reader ❆ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: satoru's been valued only what he could offer others, until he met you. ❆ 𝐰𝐜: 1.3k ❆ 𝐚/𝐧: more of a self indulgent character study to get back into the swing of writing !!! pls enjoy <3 ❆ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: none :3

satoru gojo held many roles and titles in his life. he was a son, a sorcerer, teacher, role model, a special grade, the honored one, the strongest. the strongest. whatever that was supposed to mean.

he knew what it meant, sure, but the lines were blurred a bit around the parameters of what exactly his role was. he was satoru, gojo-san, gojo-sensei, and whatever sweet term of endearment you thought up for him. between that, satoru’s identity and purpose got muddled as the titles and meaning were ever-changing.

he didn’t feel a certain way about any of it, really. or so he thought. the one accolade satoru couldn't claim was being totally indifferent.

you almost admired that aspect of him. how his nose scrunched up when something he eats tastes off, how he played with his blindfold when he needed to get something off his chest. or maybe, it was the way his eyebrow twitched ever-so-slightly if you pronounce a word in a funny way. there is no subtle, subdued, or nonchalant bone in your boyfriend’s body. everything on his mind was said before his mouth even opened.

because of that, you knew satoru was happy to be home by the way he refused to leave your side. it’s rare he gets a decent break like this; his students had a week-long retreat in kyoto that he’d meet them at eventually. for now, he had some small ends to tie up on the homefront that he was dragging out so he could stay a bit longer with you.

satoru sat on the edge of the empty bath, admiring you as you did your skincare at the vanity. if his legs weren’t long enough to touch the ground, you imagined he’d be swinging them back and forth as he gushed about his students.

“...and maki beat mai in a one-on-one. again.”

you rolled your eyes as you clipped hair away from your forehead, “even i could’ve predicted that.”

“i don’t know why those two always find each other if they’ve got such a grudge,” 

you patted your face dry.

“it must be a sister thing,” you chuckled.

“something like that, i guess,”

“you’re not upset you’re missing it?”

satoru studied you in silence as he let the question linger a bit more. part of him was. maybe more than just part of him. he let out a hum as he thought about it.

“not really,” he concluded, “i want to be here,”

you smiled at him through the mirror as you caught his eyes. 

“it’s okay to be both, babe. be as selfish as you want,”

was it really okay for him to be selfish? nobody had ever told him before that the choice was his. even if it always was.

satoru had spent a lot of time being what other people said he should be. unfortunately, most aspects of his personality and day-to-day life were not decided by him. maybe it was atonement for the way he acts. could it be his fault? is it punishment for the gift he didn’t ask for? it’d be rich to still call it a gift. it was more like a plague, or a curse. something he had to bear and live with, master and hone. 

it was admired, it was hated. it controlled him, he controlled it.

everything he was, fundamentally, came from what he could provide.

satoru didn’t realize how exhausting it was until you came along and shared the burden with him. silently, lovingly, and effortlessly. maybe he was a little selfish. was it selfish to miss his kids in kyoto while having the love of his life in front of him? or maybe it was selfish to relish in the time at home and drag it out for one more minute with you.

being in between is lonely. 

but the loneliness will pass, just like time always does anyway. and being lonely with you is still being with you in the first place.

satoru sank into the empty bath, letting his body fold as he lay across the width of it. he sighs heavily and smiles, closing his eyes. his drama was unsurprising–all you can do is shake your head and take his place on the edge of the bath.

he peers up at you.

“selfish, huh?” 

you place your hand on his knee, thumbing over where it bends as a way to soothe him.

“mhm, why not?”

satoru tilted his head back, just barely, looking up at the bathroom fan as he tried to think about what to say next.

“i’d like to stay like this for a bit longer,”

you smile warmly at him.

“in the bath? clothed like this?”

it wasn’t about the empty bath. or the clothes he was wearing. just like how it wasn’t about him learning about your skincare routine. it was never about the stories of his students, or the way you always checked in on megumi. nor was it about how you took all of his clothes when you were cold, knew how he liked his coffee in the morning, or the way he made sure the bed was nice and warm before you joined him there.

it was so much more in so much less. in his worst moments, he was in a warm bed with you, hearing you talk about your refreshingly mundane day as you drew a nonsensical pattern on his chest.

everything he was came from what he could provide, right? that’s how it always was.

what he inherited preceded his name, his personality, and everything nuanced about him. nearly everyone in his life cared more about his ability than anything else about him. he’s convinced people knew his technique more than they knew his favorite color. the music he liked. his favorite food. trivial things overshadowed by what he could provide. 

but the only thing he had to provide to you was love.

to you, who he was came from what he could provide. and that was pure, warm love.

he was matching pajamas, two cups of coffee waiting to be filled, two toothbrushes sitting together on the counter. he was the seat warmer that he always turned on for you when you rode in the passenger seat, along with the playlist he made with songs you listened to together.

it was refreshing. 

with you, he wasn’t satoru gojo. not the strongest, not gojo-sensei, not a special grade sorcerer. 

he was him. and it was always enough for you. 

satoru when you were doubled over from another lame joke he told, begging him to stop making you laugh so hard.

baby when he had a particularly hard day at work, holding onto your body on the couch like detaching from it would kill him.

sweetie when he was being ridiculous, dramatic, and over-the-top, watching a smile tug at your lips as he intentionally got on your nerves when you tried to hide it.

honey when you didn’t feel well, and he got to spoil you more than you’d ever let him before.

among a million other things. but never what you expected of him. 

most importantly, and his favorite, was when you called him love. is that what you really saw him as? it made him melt. the jujutsu world hardened him, but you turned a blind eye to that. it was enough to make him fall in love every day all over again.

what a privilege, he thought, to be so calloused and still love.

“yeah, in the bath like this,” he muttered.

you slid in next to him, folding your body too so the two of you were sitting in the cold, empty bath with your legs sticking out of the side.

“well, i’ll join you then, love”

there it was. he hummed contently. 

satoru felt like for a majority of his life, he felt like he had to search for his other half. seemingly, he was whole all along.

all content © cinnamoneve 2024. do not repost, modify, steal, or copy without permission.

[tteokdoroki]

☆༉ — KATSUKI BAKUGOU. pre-k teacher!au.

about. some random headcanons of bakugou being a pre school teacher bc i think that he’s great with kids and would try so hard not to fall in love with his student’s mom.

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact. sfw, bakugou is soft for kids, reader is a single mother, fem!reader, pre school teacher!bakugou.

personally, i think bakugou would make a great pre-school teacher.

imagine a quirkless universe where bakugou decides to work with kids because he knows that in a world where everyone turns against one another — kids are the only ones who have never done wrong. as a pre school teacher, he tries to be the person he wished he had protecting him.

the class pre-k teacher!bakugou gets assigned are known to be ‘his kids’. they have their own system, in which bakugou claps once and they all scramble to sit on the carpet for story time or know to stack their handwriting books up neatly at the end of their tables. the kids like that their teacher is strong and able to pick three of them up at once, they order that he plays heroes with them or sometimes dresses up like a princess from the story book before nap time.

pre-k teacher!bakugou's class is the most well behaved, the little ones always snuggle up to him quietly when it’s time to sleep and listen well before they’re let out into the playground for time out doors. it’s almost like he gentle parents them too — your kid in katsuki’s class is particularly sensitive at times, but the blonde always gives her a little time to cry out her feelings in the reflection corner because kids will always figure their shit out even if they can’t articulate it properly.

“what’s wrong, sweetheart? can ya try ‘n tell me what’s up?”

pre-k teacher!bakugou who gets along well with the parents but doesn’t dare to cross the boundaries of professionalism… except for when it comes to you. the flustered young mum who’s trying to get her life together with an extremely shy and stubborn daughter that takes bakugou months to crack. he bribes her with special books at reading time, the first pick of pillows and blankies for naps and even helps her tie her shoes when he’s not supposed to.

but only because of the way your eyes light up at your daughter’s progress a few months later and the way you cling to pre-k teacher!bakugou's arm (whilst trying not to cry) when he tells you that your daughter is finally setting in with friends.

he absolutely cannot have a crush on you, however.

pre-k teacher!bakugou makes homemade snacks for his class that meets every dietary and allegory requirement of every kid he has — more often than not it’s fruit and veg, he tells his kids that they get superpowers from eating healthy. but sometimes he indulges them with gluten free brownies or muffins, sending extra home for the parents too.

pre-k teacher!bakugou puts his funny reading glasses on whenever a student of his makes him a piece of art. they always giggle. no matter what’s been made, the creations from his kids always go up on the ‘bk class wall of fame’ — he feels sentimental over each blob drawn onto colour paper with sprinkles of glue, pasta, buttons and glitter. they mean so much to him, he can’t help but adore the gifts he’s given.

pre-k teacher!bakugou who tries not to cry when his class move up a grade. he promised himself not to be like this, but the kids are squeezing and hugging him, showering him in end of year gifts as a thank you for being the best teacher ever. bakugou isn’t very good at hiding how much he’ll miss his kids — especially your little girl who he’s so used to having by his side until you pick her up everyday.

but when pre-k teacher!bakugou starts clearing out his classroom for a year, he finds a card from his favourite student (your daughter) and inside is your number scrawled quickly in the top right corner.

‘been waiting for this all year. call me, now that you’re not her teacher - xxx’

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

Okay, i know you have request closed but if i don’t write it down I’ll forget. First love your soldier boy dad writing! I have binged it all now! But what if soldier boys comes back and he realizes his baby needs him cause homelander is like freaky obsessed with her. And like she meets with homelander or something and HL hurts her so she runs to her dad cause he’s the only one that can really protect her and soldier boy gets so mad at HL

I'm a sucker for dad!soldier boy and soldier girl 😭

Suddenly

Warnings: homelander being a creep, reader devastated that he isn't the brother she grew up with, hl giving off incesty vibes, papa soldier boy coming back into the picture, this time he's not going to disappoint his baby girl, dark themes, you've been warned, homelander giving ick vibes, assault, fighting back

Time in Russia had Ben coming to terms with cold, hard truths. By now Payback was never going to rescue him. Not like he'd hoped. Maybe due to his personality being on the constant 'dickhead' switch, no one was really in a hurry to save him. There was no leaving Russia alive for him. Another painful fact. Nowhere near as agonizing than the fact he'd royally fucked up as a parent. He didn't spend the time he should have with you and Homelander. Soldier Boy regrets not using a softer tone and hand with Homelander when he was disciplining the boy. Shouldn't have shooed you out of the way when all you wanted to do was show him a fucking picture you'd drawn.

He replays the last time he saw his kids. Your birthday was coming up soon. Your 18th birthday, a milestone. Soldier boy would never consider himself a sentimental man, but something in his battle weathered heart thawed and warmed that his little girl wasn't so little anymore.

You never asked for anything for your birthday. The most Soldier Boy would do (if not given a hint from Homelander as to what you'd want) is give you money and maybe a doughnut in lieu of an actual birthday cake. Regardless of what Soldier Boy bought you, you always gave him a genuinely grateful smile, appreciating that he was performing the bare minimum. Homelander's gifts always blew whatever Soldier Boy gave you out of the park anyway. He was the one who really knew you.

It dawned on him that he shouldn't have relied so heavily on his son to care for you when Homelander was a child himself. The two of you ended up developing an unhealthy attachment. Moreso Homelander than you (Vogelbaum had brought this to his attention some years ago).

An 18th birthday was something to fucking party about though. When Payback's military grade helicopter landed in Nicaragua, Soldier Boy had been thinking about where he'd hidden your special present. For once he was excited about something that didn't involve killing or fucking.

"Hey, earth to Ben." Your voice catches him off guard, pulling him from his dark revere.

He's not in Russia anymore.

He's not even in the same year as he had been when abducted.

Ben stares at you for a moment. That vacant stare of his has you going on guard just in case something triggered his PTSD.

You're older than 18 now. A full grown woman standing in a rundown, shitty little motel kitchenette. The pan you were using was set aside and you turn off the burners of the stove before facing your dad.

"You good?"

Blinking once, Soldier Boy shakes off whatever spell was cast over him. "Yeah. Yeah, sorry. What were you saying?"

You understood the moments of displacement you 'd feel when you realized your father was alive and right in front of you. He hadn't aged a single year since his supposed death that Stan Edgar convinced you happened. It was just so fucking weird.

"I was saying that I need to run out for an errand. Hughie and Butcher will be here if you need anything."

The usual Soldier Boy returns with a roll of his eyes. He exchanges a glance with Butcher who was intently watching Vought News in the armchair near the motel window. Butcher merely offers him a shrug.

You doubt he would actually need anything. The Boys hooked up your dad with several pounds of weed, alcohol and cigarettes that would last a normal person a lifetime. This was nothing to Soldier Boy. He would demolish it within a couple of days.

Hughie leans in to whisper in your ear "Are you sure you want to go back to Vought? Annie said she had everything under control over there."

Watching Soldier Boy eat his breakfast and taking a swig of some good old fashioned morning whiskey, you lower your voice so only Hughie could hear. "I love Annie and respect her, but I HIGHLY doubt even she has control in regards to Vought and the Seven."

Before leaving, you shoot the three of them a menacing look. "Behave. All of you."

You'd lied to Hughie though.

When Butcher returned from Russia with Soldier Boy and after the incident incident with Crimson Countess, you thought of the brother you used to know frequently. It wasn't long ago that Homelander had been your best friend. You hoped beyond all hope that you could bring that brother back.

You'd purchased a burner phone and, memorizing Homelander's personal number, called him. His immediate reaction was to curse you out, naturally. You let him before reminding him of the bond both of you built through years of surviving Soldier Boy's home together. Making something of yourselves without the looming shadow of your father. You'd told him that if there was any chance of reconciliation that he should meet you at a disclosed area. Just the both of you. There was guarded refusal. You could be luring him into a trap. Finish him off once and for all. And like the rest of the world, Homelander didn't believe you when you finally told him that Soldier Boy was alive.

That was enough for Homelander to agree.

One might consider you paranoid by the many times you'd looked over your shoulder as you flew to the top of Vought Tower. A semi-public place where if a struggle ensued, many people would be tipped off below. You'd also have more options of escape in the open air.

The door to the top of the roof opens. You stand taller and square your shoulders off.

Homelander lets the door fall closed behind him. His strides to you are slow and calculated, imitating a predatory animal circling a scrumptious morsel of meat. Blue eyes dart around you, assuring himself you didn't bring any unwelcome visitors.

"He's really alive?'' Was Homelander's greeting.

You toss him the cheap burner phone that was capable of taking subpar pictures. Homelander eyes you before leaning down to pick up the flip phone. His lower lid twitches when he makes out Soldier Boy in the picture sitting across from Butcher at some small table.

Adam's apple bobbing, Homelander's expression difficult to read. "How?"

"Apparently the Russians had him. Payback was working with them as well as Vought to get rid of Soldier Boy." Would he believe you?

Scoffing, he tosses back your phone but there's no point in keeping it anymore. You crush it in your grip, fingers opening to let the crumbled remnants be carried away by the wind.

"John, please. I miss my brother." The man in front of you was a stranger wearing your brother's face.

He tilts his chin up. "You're the one who ruined us. YOU fucked right off to join William Butcher and his band of miscreants. And its you who has no one to blame but yourself."

"John-"

He's fast, his hand inches away from grabbing your face before you dodge out of the way, deftly avoiding him. His temper has grown worse, you observe, since you left the Seven. Homelander was already on a rapid decline mentally after killing Madelyn Stillwell. Your abandonment was simply icing on top of the shitty cake.

You had to tread VERY lightly around him.

What was your aim for this interaction? Homelander would never leave Vought or the Seven nor would he want to join you and the other vigilantes. Hell, the Boys would never accept him.

You wanted to see for yourself if there was any piece left of your childhood within him.

Starting into his red rimmed eyes, you saw nothing of the boy who held your hand as the both of you crossed the street to get to school. He was gone.

"You" He points a red gloved finger in your direction "betrayed me."

He won't listen to reason.

"I didn't want to." You whisper, recalling the moments when Homelander actually made you feel unsafe just before you made the decision to leave. How he'd started to stare at you for an uncomfortably long time. His simple, innocent gestures and caresses were becoming. . . worrisome.

You'd thought it was just you imagining things. Homelander was just like that with you. He practically raised you after all. Homelander was the one to make your sack lunch for school. The one who got you ready, choosing your clothes for the day and braiding your hair.

His touches had changed though. They lingered and tightened on you, becoming possessive with each passing day since Stillwell's murder.

There was an instance when he'd captured your face in both his hands. You'd thought maybe there was something on your face, remnants of lunch, but no. He'd nearly kissed you full on the lips. For once you're grateful for the Deep popping up out of nowhere. It was the only thing that had Homelander dropping your face and returning to a semi-normal facade.

You see that Homelander right in front of you. The one that made your stomach curdle and goosebumps prickling upon your arms.

"I never thought you'd become an ungrateful bitch." With each step he took closer to you, you took another one back. "You're mine. You have always been mine from the moment Soldier Boy brought you home, you've been mine." His hands kept clenching up as if he was trying to will restraint in himself.

You're ready for a fight.

What you aren't ready for was Homelander being faster in grabbing your arms so you couldn't escape and smashing his lips against your's. You feel yourself scream as a struggle begins. He's trying to keep you in his arms, pull you down to the ground. His kiss turns aggressively desperate with teeth biting down on your lower lip when you try to turn your face away.

Heart rate freaking out, you go by pure animal instinct to get out of Homelander's hold. Your teeth sink down into his forearm, tearing cloth and skin alike. Letting out a howl, Homelander throws you to the ground, reeling back to examine the sizeable bite mark you gave him. He wasn't used to seeing his own blood.

He forgot that he should have been just as fearful of you as you were with him and his own powers.

The stickiness of his blood covers your mouth as you glare at him.

Since the brother you once loved was no longer present in Homelander, you weren't afraid anymore of pulling punches.

You stand up to your full height and feel the heat of your lasers burn in the back of your eyes.

Homelander seemed to match your feelings as his heated glare literally shines from his eyes. "I'm not letting you get away to go back to him."

"That's unfortunate. I've got no plans on staying here." You snarl and just as you levitate off of the ground, Homelander is grabbing you by the ankle and tries to slam you back down.

He could easily rip your leg off.

Your panicked jerking manages to free you from his grasp.

Like a bullet you take off across the sky. Looking back every so often just to make sure he wasn't following you. He wouldn't dare to make a scene where civilians can easily spy the both of you from the ground.

You're certain you've broken a few records by how fast you flew across the city to get back to the hideout.

Nearly ripping the motel door of it's hinges, you startle the men in there. Hughie gapes at the actual bruises developing on your face and the red smear across your mouth. Everything about you must have looked a horrifying mess.

Soldier Boy stands from where he'd been sitting on the bed. Eyes wide as he takes you in. "What the fuck happened to you?" He's the first one to take action and go to you.

Looking at him now, the feelings you'd tried pushing back start trickling forth. You realize Homelander had not just physically assaulted you, but it had nearly turned into a sexual assault too.

You damn the tears that well up your eyes, distorting the image of your father. "I. . . John. . ."

"John? John did this to you?" The words felt hollow coming out of his mouth as he stood in a daze. Homelander had harmed you? That didn't sound right. Then again, a lot had changed.

Mentioning Homelander's birth name caught the others' attention.

You touch your mouth where Homelander had kissed you. You realize the blood around your lips may not just be Homelander's blood. Where he'd bitten your lower lip is a tender gash that is also leaking red.

"Sit down. You're shaking." Soldier Boy, taking on the role of a caring father (and surprising everyone with his gentle tone) pushes past Butcher and Hughie who helplessly watch. Using your shoulders to guide you to the arm chair, your dad sits you down. He kneels in front of you to get a good look at the wounds all over you. "Tell me what he did."

Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you're focused on your hands and the specks of red on them. "He tried- I don't know. . . He. . ."

Gently, Soldier Boy uses his index finger to raise your face up. "Tell me, baby girl."

That got you. The tears were now freely rolling down your face when you meet similar blue eyes. "I wanted to see if there was anything left of the brother I knew." You whimper, voice warbling. "Dad. . . he didn't try to kill me. He tried doing something worse."

Ben's eyes widen, as if dots were being connected. His soft demeanor which he'd revealed just to you hardens into something ugly. You didn't like how quiet the motel room had become.

You flinch when Soldier Boy attempts to hug you. He stops and not wanting to upset you further, didn't try again. You're the one who wraps your arms around him.

Fiercely, Soldier Boy returns the embrace.

"I promise you, I won't ever let him lay a hand on you again." He feel his jaw tighten as he snarls out. "The next time I see him, I'm going to kill him."

[pablitosgf]

𝐆𝐈𝐅𝐓 ! — jb05

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ! — jude bellingham x fem!reader

𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐎 ! — in which you surprise jude with a special vacation.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ! — nothing!!

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 ! — this has been sitting in my drafts for MONTHS! even before i posted on this blog. so i hope y'all love it. btw i wrote this before he turned to the big 20 thats why it says 19. <3

𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓 ! — writing

As you sat in your office chair, you couldn't help but smile as you thought about your anniversary with Jude. You had met him back in grade 11, and now he was a professional football player while you were studying to become a pediatrician one day. You had always wanted to have children, but of course, not at the moment. You and Jude were only 19 and had graduated high school a year ago. However, you had it all planned out – from engagement to marriage, pregnancy, and kids – for the future.

But for now, you needed to focus on finding the perfect anniversary gift for your beloved boyfriend of four years. You didn't want to give him something too basic, but you knew that he had always wanted to visit the Bahamas. Unfortunately, with his hectic schedule, there had never been a good time to make the trip. As you brainstormed ideas, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the time you had spent with Jude so far and excited for all the adventures that lay ahead for the two of you.

"That's it!" you exclaimed, a grin spreading across your face. "I'll surprise him with plane tickets for a week in the Bahamas. He has the whole next week off, so it's perfect timing." You couldn't wait to see the look on Jude's face when you told him.

With the apartment to yourself for a few hours due to his training, you quickly went to your laptop and booked a flight from Dortmund to the Bahamas. As you clicked "confirm" on the booking page, your heart raced with excitement. You knew that this trip would be a lifetime experience for the both of you, and you couldn't wait to share it with Jude.

After printing out the tickets, you headed to the store to pick up a fancy box and some accessories to go with it. As you were putting the finishing touches on your surprise, you heard the doorbell ring. Your heart racing with excitement, you ran to the door to greet Jude.

"Baby, you're finally here!" you exclaimed, barely containing your excitement. "I know we were supposed to exchange presents after our date, but I just can't wait any longer."

Jude raised his eyebrows, intrigued by your eagerness. "I can't wait to see what you've got for me," he said, leaning in to give you a light kiss.

You took his hand and led him to the box you had prepared, a huge grin on your face. Jude looked at you with a mix of confusion and anticipation as you urged him to open it. "Just open it," you said, barely able to contain your excitement.

Jude eagerly unlatched the box to reveal the tickets inside. At first, he looked confused, but as he examined them more closely, his eyes widened in disbelief. "What is this?" he asked, his voice filled with astonishment.

"You're joking, right?" he exclaimed, unable to believe his luck. But as he looked at you and saw the excitement written all over your face, he knew that this was real.

“You've always talked about how much you wanted to go," you said, smiling at him. "So I thought, why not make it happen?"

Jude's response was immediate - he wrapped his arms around you and began showering you with kisses all over your face, murmuring countless "thank yous" in your ear.

“You're welcome, my love," you said, feeling your heart swell with happiness.

You woke up to an enthusiastic and energetic Jude. "Come on, babe, get up!" Jude exclaimed, pulling your arm. You groaned and tried to resist, but Jude's excitement was contagious.

"Ugh, I'm too tired. Let me sleep," you complained, sinking back into the bed.

"No way! We have to get ready," Jude insisted.

"I just wanna sleep…" you muttered groggily.

"What did you say?" Jude asked, looking confused.

"Nothing," you replied, shaking your head and trying to shake off your sleepiness.

You posted a story on your Instagram and now you were sitting at the gate, waiting for the plane. You let out a sigh of boredom, and Jude noticed. "Hey, do you want to play chopsticks?" he asked.

You looked at him quizzically, "What's chopsticks?"

Jude was taken aback, "What?! How do you not know what chopsticks is?"

You just shrugged, which earned a loud puff from Jude.

"Fine, I'll teach you," he said, shaking his head in disbelief. He explained the rules and how to play, but you made snarky remarks here and there, calling it "boring" and "not fun." Jude being Jude, responded with a sassy retort.

As Jude turned his head to you, he exclaimed, "We're actually here!" His lips barely missed yours as he spoke, and you couldn't help but smile at his excitement.

"Of course, my love," you replied, returning the almost-kiss with a soft one of your own. "I'm so happy we're finally here in the Bahamas together." You intertwined your fingers with his, feeling the warmth of his hand as you headed towards the exit, eager to start your week-long adventure in paradise.

[just-me-venting-cause-life-sucks]

List of things that Clef has totally done(my headcanons)

Told the truth(no one believed him)

Kissed Bright(they were both under the influence of an SCP)

Kissed Bright(not under the influence of anything, it was supposed to be some form of power move and now they're dating. how did this happen?)

Dyed his hair(it turned a swamp green)

Tried to layer a different color dye on the swamp green(his hair turned a greenish brown)

Shaved off all his hair(it took months for it to grow back)

Stole SCP-963 from Bright while he was sleeping

Stole SCP-963 from Bright while he was awake

Tried to break into SCP-166's containment cell on multiple occasions

Was gifted a pet albino cornsnake and now keeps it in his office(he named it Cornpop<3)

Fed Cornpop human flesh

Glass has found out that Clef's medical records constantly change, even though no one touches them

Has contemplated going back to university to get a master's degree in English(he thinks that it will be a good waste of money)

Was a band kid, but quit a few years in and switched to doing drama, then stopped doing drama so he could focus on his grades

Made a grave for SCP-4231-A, even though her body was disposed of multiple years earlier. When questioned, he simply stated "I still miss her sometimes..." before staring off into space for a total of 30 minutes. He then destroyed the grave by stomping on it, shooting the dirt, and then lighting it on fire

Put a sticky note over his third eye in an attempt to "stop seeing through it"(It didn't work)

Begged on his hands and knees, asking Light to be allowed to see SCP-166(he was denied, and cried for multiple hours)

Filled his shotgun with blanks and pretended to shoot multiple staff members

Played Buckshot Roulette(the video game. He didn't play it in real life)

Got really fucking drunk, so drunk that he couldn't remember who or where he was. Ended up being taken care of by Kondraki(neither of them will comment on if there is something more to that or not)

Got high with Able(no one knows how he survived that one)

[messedupfan]

Chapter 12

Summary: It's the holidays and the kids school is putting on a show!

A/n: Sorry this has taken a bit of time to get out. There is a lot packed into this chapter. Enjoy!

Masterlist | All Chapters | All Stories Taglist

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“Come on guys, no more pictures! We’re going to be late!” Rachel whines, tired of posing for pictures. Jean frowns with her phone covering half of her face. 

“Just one more picture, babe. You look so adorable!” Jean says as she waves her daughter back into place. 

“Baba,” Rachel looks at you for help. You nod and place your hand on Jean’s shoulder. 

“Come on, mama. Let’s get her to school on time. She’s stressed enough, she doesn’t need to be late.” You say as you attempt to reason with your ex-wife. 

“Fine, but you’ll regret this when you’re old and decrepit and have no memories,” Jean grouches as she puts her phone away.

“Jean, you'll have more opportunities to take pictures of our little soloist when she's on stage and after the performance. But for now, we have to go,” you say as you open the door for everyone to leave the house.  Both of your parents and their significant others are here along with Kate. Your step siblings are spending the holidays with their significant other's families this year. Which allowed your dad to spend them with you. It has been years since he's spent the holidays with you and he even apologized for that as he brought in many gifts for Rachel and even a few for you. Anna's parents, Owen and Pricilla, are also in attendance and they have also spoiled Rachel with presents making the tree overflowing with presents. Jean's parents aren't attending this year because they're spending the holidays with her older brother Roger and his family. Jean is the youngest of five and since the family spread out throughout the country over the years, her parents have had to rotate where they spend the holidays. But since Jean isn’t without family, she is fine not having her parents here. 

Even without the Grey’s, Rachel still has a pretty big crowd there to support her. You almost feel guilty for not having more kids for a crowd this size to root for, especially since some kids won't have nearly this many people attending to see them. 

The group of ten arrives at the school parking lot in multiple cars. You were lucky enough to get to drive Rachel alone since she wanted to avoid everyone fawning all over her. You help her get to her classroom where all of the students were asked to meet before the performance. It's a big holiday showcase with performances from each grade. Since Rachel is in her last year of elementary school, that meant her performance was going to be the big finale of the show. 

“Good luck, munchkin,” you kiss the top of her head before sending her into the classroom. 

“Baba, you're supposed to say ‘break a leg’ because the theater is very superstitious,” she says and you smile as you get ready to correct yourself but you get interrupted by her teacher. 

“There you are! My star! Come on in, let's get you ready,” the teacher takes her away from you and you go looking for the rest of the people that you're going to sit with. 

There are many families that are crowding the halls and are slowly filing into the theater as they find their seats. You're carefully scanning the crowd for a familiar face when you hear your name being called. You whip your head around as you try to find the face and stop when you find Daisy. You shuffle through the crowd to get to her when you feel some tug on your coat. You look back and find Luna smiling up at you. Then you notice Pietro before he notices you. 

“Hey,” you greet as you hold his arm. Pietro smiles as he greets you with a hug. “I thought you weren't coming,” you say as you step back to get out of the way. Luna asks to be lifted up and so you pick her up and she gives you a tight hug. 

“Yeah, I wasn't planning on it but uh,” he looks around before leaning in close. “Vision canceled on Tommy and Billy and they were taking it pretty hard so, here I am.” 

You shake your head. For someone who is so adamant about being the only male presence in his son's lives, he sure has a funny way of showing it. “That's a shame. I know that Billy was really excited for him to see his part.” 

Pietro shrugs, “I know, but we're here for him. Hopefully it's enough.” Even though the both of you know that it most likely isn't, you don't voice it. “I should probably get in,” Pietro says as he reaches for his daughter. “Have to find the wife.” 

“Crystalia is here? Where is she?” You look around, realizing that she wasn't with him. 

“She's with Wanda and my mom. We got here pretty early to avoid this traffic because we recently found out that Crystalia is carrying twins so we wanted to minimize her standing time. Unfortunately for me, this one needed to go potty,” he starts to tickle his daughter making her squeal and squirm in his arms. 

The two of you wish each other happy holidays as you go your separate ways and you finally make your way through the crowd to Daisy who has found Jean and the rest of the large family. She arrived separately because she said she had to work. But you believe she has been avoiding meeting your parents and having to sit through a meal with them. You place your hand on her lower back and give her an innocent greeting kiss. “I'm glad that you made it,” you smile at her. 

“I wouldn't miss it,” she takes your free hand and gives you a few squeezes. You squeeze back. It has been a rough adjustment between her and Rachel, but Daisy surprises you by trying every day to get your daughter to welcome her. 

“Did she get to her classroom fine?” Jean asks and you confirm that she did and throw in that she didn't seem nervous in the least. “She is so brave. It scares me,” she admits. You agree with her as you imagine the many wrong turns that bravery could take your daughter. All any parent can do is hope for the best.  

As you finally get through the auditorium doors, your eyes wander and you aren't sure what you're looking for until your eyes land on her. She is standing in front of her mother with a smile as she talks to her. You are curious about what is making her smile as it makes you smile. “What's got you smiling? The kids aren't out yet.” Anna whispers as she nudges you. 

You look at her, “I can't be proud that our daughter finally got a solo here?” You notice when she finds Wanda but she doesn't point it out. 

“I know! I'm so proud too, she has been working really hard on this,” she says as she squeezes your bicep. 

“I'm so glad she let me help her,” Daisy leans in, overhearing the conversation. “She actually called Y/n here tone deaf,” Daisy laughs and Anna joins her. You shake your head. When Rachel came to your apartment raving about the audition she had, she asked for your help but you couldn't carry a tune to save your life and she found it difficult to bounce off of. So, Daisy quietly sang to herself until Rachel noticed and the girl shyly asked for the woman's help. It got to the point that she would ask Daisy to go over to her mom's house to help her practice. You couldn't have been happier and your girlfriend couldn't have been more willing to help. 

During the performances of the five grades before Rachel and the twins, you find it increasingly difficult to stay awake through it. The kids certainly are adorable but none of them are Rachel, so you don’t have much interest in watching the little kids struggle to remember lines and sing the lyrics off key. Thankfully, you have Daisy there to wake you up when they announce the fifth grade class. You sit up and look around to remind yourself where you are and as you do, you turn around enough to see your father doing the same thing as his wife wakes him. You would find the symmetry endearing if the two of you weren’t so estranged. You smile at Daisy and put your arm over her shoulders as she snuggles into you in response to the gesture. 

Now since there are a lot of students, not every student is participating on the stage. Some of the students are operating backstage and others are managing props. Some even are the props. Like Tommy, he is a Christmas tree as punishment for being difficult in every other aspect of the play. You laugh to yourself as you zoom in on his Grinch green grumpy face and snap a picture for Wanda. Then you start recording the entire stage as Billy leads a group of boys and girls in a musical number. Rachel is crouched and hidden in the middle of the other students. She blossoms as they spread out through the front of the stage. Your daughter sings her little heart out and doesn’t miss a beat. You feel your eyes sting with proud tears as you continue to record her. 

“Put your phone down,” Daisy whispers. “I’ve got it. You enjoy the show.” You nod and end the recording. You want to whisper your gratitude but don’t want to mess up the recording on her phone. You experience your daughter's performance live instead of through the screen and watch as she gets her dance moves correct. You don’t even realize how close to the edge of the stage she is until it happens. You don’t think anyone did. Rachel certainly didn’t, not with the big smile she had as she nailed her performance. 

“Rachel!” Billy and Tommy shouted at the same time as they both abandoned their positions and rushed to the edge of the stage to look down at their friend on the ground. There was a collective gasp in the audience that made the whole thing seem unreal. You experience a delayed reaction and don’t run towards the stage until Anna and Jean are shuffling in front of you to rush to the stage. The three of you make it after Wanda, who is yelling at her boys to stay put as she assesses the situation. 

“Rachel, honey, don’t move okay?” Wanda says as she kneels down beside Rachel but not too close. You get next to Wanda as you watch your daughter struggle to wake up. You look her over for any obvious injuries and notice that her leg is in really bad shape. 

“Someone call an ambulance!” You shout as you look at the large auditorium full of people too stunned to do anything. You shake your head and pull out your phone to do it yourself and that’s when a school administrator speed walks over to see if she can avoid causing a big scene. 

The older woman’s view is obstructed so with good intentions she says, “Do you think you could carry her out of here? We will have an ambulance waiting outside. I just want to avoid canceling the big finale for the rest of the students and their families.” 

Jean and Anna, who were next to you, move out of the way and the woman still tries to ask you to move her. Just as you’re about to say that you don’t think you should, Wanda steps in for you. “Are you crazy? I’m sorry, I would have loved it if this didn’t happen either but we don’t know what internal damages she has! None of us here are trained to properly move her without making it worse. The show is over. Do you understand?” Wanda turns around to shout to the audience but Billy taps her shoulder and holds out his mic pack for her. “Everyone, please stay in your seats until we can get a paramedic to remove Rachel Y/l/n-Grey from the auditorium safely. Her family thanks you for your respect and patience.” 

With this announcement, the army that is Rachel’s grandparents rise and make their way to the front as well as they realize the severity of the situation. “I don’t think that was necessary,” the woman says to Wanda. 

“Excuse me, my granddaughter is in need of serious medical attention. She isn’t even conscious,” your dad steps in to defend Wanda. “Madam, are you a doctor?” The woman shakes her head. “Do you have any medical experience or knowledge at all?” She replies no and tries to continue after that but your father shuts her down again. “Then you can step away and guide the paramedics to us because that’s all you’re good for in this situation.” You are shocked to see this protective side of your father but you don’t stop him because he’s doing what you’re too shocked to do. 

You stay close to Rachel and as much as you want to hold her hand or touch her to let her know that you are there, you don’t. You just watch her chest struggle to rise and fall as you wait for the medical professionals to arrive. It hurts you to see the uneven breaths, but it comforts you to know that she is still breathing. The position of her head and her arm concern you, but you try really hard not to focus too much on the list of injuries she may or may not have. You just focus on the fact that she is alive and help is on the way. You don’t realize that you’ve been holding your breath until Wanda’s touch shocks you back to self awareness. You take a deep breath and look at her as she rubs your back. “She’s going to be okay,” she says to comfort you and with everything in you, you hope that she is right. 

Wanda has to move you out of the way when the paramedics arrive at the scene. You finally look away when they start to move her around. She looks so tiny and helpless in their care and you couldn’t stand the sight. Wanda continues to take care of you and you are grateful. You don’t notice that Daisy is standing at her seat until you are following the paramedics out of the theater. She collects her things and follows you out. “I’ll follow behind to give you a ride back to your car. When you're ready, of course,” she says and you nod as you climb into the ambulance with your daughter. Only one parent could ride along and Jean volunteered you without a second thought. 

“She needs you, Y/n. You’re better at this stuff and I can’t stop crying,” she said as she attempted to wipe her tears. You gave her a quick hug and promised that Rachel was going to be okay. It didn’t bring her much relief but she held onto the small amount of comfort it did bring. 

Wanda is walking at a fast pace as she holds her boys hands to get them out of the school. “Come on boys, I need to get you home.” Tommy stops walking and pulls his hand out of hers. 

“No,” he frowns, “I want to go to see Rachel. I have to make sure she is okay.” 

Wanda sighs, “Honey, we won’t know that for a while. It will be a lot of waiting.” 

“We’re okay with that,” Billy says. “She’s our best friend. We want to be there for her,” he says as he stands next to his brother. Pietro finds the three of them in the middle of the parking lot. His mother is helping his wife and daughter to his car. He was sent to find Wanda to see what she was going to do, and offer to watch the boys so that at least she can be there for you.

“What’s going on here, guys?” He asks as he places his hands on the back of their heads. 

“They want to go with me to the hospital to wait for Rachel,” Wanda answers. She looks at her brother for help. She wasn’t sure what she should do in terms of being a good parent but she doesn’t think she can convince her determined boys to go with their uncle. They almost never agree on anything at the same time like this. 

“Hey, so are we taking these two with us?” Mrs. Maximoff asks as she joins the group. 

“No,” Pietro says, helping his sister make the decision as he looks at his mother, “Tommy and Billy will be joining Wanda.”  

“I see,” she says as she looks at her grandsons. “My boys are so sweet. But are you sure you don’t want to come with us to Uncle Pietro’s? We can have ice cream and cake and watch movies.” Billy and Tommy shake their heads and cross their arms at the same time. 

“We have to be there for Rachel,” Tommy stands his ground, showing no sign of temptation to his grandmother’s offer. She shrugs and looks at her daughter. 

“I’ll join you,” she says. 

“Mom, you don’t have to,” Wanda starts to protest. 

“No, I’m supporting my grandsons. They want to be at the hospital then so do I,” she states and Wanda doesn’t argue any further. She's in a hurry to get to you. Well, to the hospital to be there for you. And Jean and Anna of course since they're her friends as well.

“Okay, let’s go then,” Wanda says and she says goodbye to her brother as she walks off with her boys and their mother. She drives, uncertain if she should even be there in the first place but knows that if something like this happened to either of her boys, you would be there for her. No question. When she finds you in a waiting area with your family she knows that the news can't be too good. Before asking anything, Wanda pulls you into a tight hug that you melt into. “What do you know?” She asks as she steps back. 

“She broke her leg, that's been confirmed. There is a lot of concern for her arm and shoulder and they don't know whether it's the pain that has kept her unconscious or if she sustained a head injury. The paramedics couldn’t tell how hard she might've hit her head but are optimistic that it wasn't too hard since it looks like her leg took the brunt of it. The doctor said that we won't know until she wakes up what kind of damage might've been done to her head. She's in surgery now,” you explain, trying to remain calm and not jump to the worst kinds of conclusions. Rachel is going to be fine. She is strong. Wanda nods as she digests the information. “You brought the boys?” You ask as you notice Tommy’s green face and Billy also still in his costume being dragged to seats by their grandmother. 

Wanda turns to look at them and then turns back to you. “They insisted. My mom tried to take them to Pietro's house but they refused. They really care about Rachel.” Wanda stands next to you and the both of you look at her boys as they fight over who gets a turn first on grandma's phone. “Which one do you think she'll marry?” 

You snort at the idea, “Hopefully neither.” 

Wanda looks at you feeling offended by your answer. “She would be a lucky girl to marry one of my boys.” 

You hold your hands up in surrender, “No one is saying she wouldn't be. It's just that Jean and I are both hoping we raised a lesbian. If she's straight, we might have to disown her.” You smirk at the end to show your lack of seriousness and Wanda shakes her head.

“It amazes me that you have a sense of humor in a crisis,” Wanda says.

“That’s my fault,” your mom says as she flips through the outdated magazine from the hospital collection. “I'm not good in a crisis so Y/n learned how to make me laugh from an early age in order to help us both get through it.” She closes the magazine and tosses it back onto the pile. She looks Wanda up and down and lifts her hand in the air as she remains seated. “I'm Eleanor Bishop, Y/n’s mother,” she introduces herself.  Wanda introduces herself and your mom makes a face to place the familiarity to the name. “Oh yes, I've heard of you! Rachel talks very highly of you and your boys. Twins right?” 

“Right, Tommy and Billy,” Wanda points out her boys to the woman. “They wanted to be here for your granddaughter,” she explains. 

“Oh they are so kind,” your mom says. “This is my husband, Derek,” she places her hands on her husband's shoulder. He half stands to shake Wanda's hand as well and gives a polite hello. “I'm not sure if you've already met my daughter, Kate,” she gestures to Kate who is sitting across from her and behind Wanda. 

“No, but I have heard a lot about you. Rachel adores you,” she turns to Kate to get a read on the girl but it's clear she's in no mood to make pleasantries. She just wants to know that her niece is okay. Wanda doesn't push and surprisingly, neither does your mother. 

“Would you like to take a seat,” you ask Wanda when you realize that the two of you are the only ones standing in the middle of the waiting area. She nods and looks over at her family to see that there isn't a seat for her. But there is one next to you, leaving you in the middle of Wanda and Daisy. 

The latter of the two snuggles into your arms and laces her fingers with yours once you've settled in. Something about the gesture comes off more territorial than it does comforting and it makes you uncomfortable. But you don't pull away. You know that she has an insecurity when it comes to your friendship with Wanda, so you do your best to show her that she has nothing to worry about. 

An hour passes with a couple of updates and Pietro shows up with some treats for everyone to help them get through the wait. He talks with you for a bit and you thank him for showing up and for being kind enough to bring food for your family. “I can't take all of the credit to be honest. Wanda messaged me to see if I was able to drop some things off.” You look at Wanda who is helping her boys distribute the donuts and coffee to the members of your family who at first declined but after getting a speech from Wanda about everyone taking care of themselves they all realized how much they needed the treat. You can't imagine a better person to have by your side in a crisis. 

You look at Daisy and notice that she looks a little off as she stares at her phone. You excuse yourself from Pietro and walk over to Daisy. But as soon as you get close enough she stands while collecting her things and apologizes to everyone as she starts to walk away. You turn back, unsure if you should go after her or stay just in case the doctor sends someone out for another update. Jean tells you to go so you do. 

“I wonder what that's all about,” Pietro says as he gets close to Wanda. 

“Pietro, please. Now's not the time,” Wanda rolls her eyes at her brother's nosiness. He nods as he drops it. “Do you think we'll be able to convince the boys to let you take them with you?” She asks as she takes a bite of the donut. 

“No, but we might be able to convince mom to let me drop her off,” the two share a laugh as Pietro points to the woman who is nodding off in her seat. 

“Daisy,” you say as you chase her down the hall to prevent her from leaving but she doesn't stop. “Daisy, please talk to me. What's wrong?” You ask once she's guided you out of the building. “Daisy, come on. I want to be here for you, whatever you're going through, but we need to get back in there for Rachel. I can't be out here for too long,” you try to explain.

“Then go back inside, I didn't ask you to follow me,” she snaps back at you but she continues walking. You shake your head and take a glance back at the building before continuing to follow Daisy. “I can't do this. I'm not ready for all of this,” you overhear her muttering to herself. 

“What aren't you ready for?” You ask, confused by her rambling words. Daisy drops her keys and you're quicker than she is to pick them up. She asks for her keys. “Not until you tell me what's wrong,” you negotiate. You really don't understand what is causing this behavior from her. You wonder if it has anything to do with Wanda but you don't want to believe that's the case. You don't know if it'd be fair to the kids to have to cut them out of each other's lives for Daisy. She knows that your first priority is always Rachel and her happiness. 

“It was great meeting everyone, despite the circumstances, but my wife just messaged me about some cravings that I should get to her before everything closes. Rachel is a strong girl, she's going to be fine,” Pietro says as he starts to make his exit after engaging in light conversation with your father and his wife and even managed to get Kate to chat after a conversation with Anna's parents. Your mother is preoccupied with reading to the twins and although the pair of them claim to be too old for a storytime, your mom can be quite the storyteller. Pietro walks over to his mom and gently wakes her to offer her a ride home. 

She looks at her grandsons and shakes her head. “I think it'll be a good example to stick out the wait with them,” she says as she reaches up and lightly pats his cheek. “Thank you for asking, my sweet boy. I love you.” 

Pietro smiles and gives his mom a sweet kiss on the forehead. “I love you too, ma. I'll see you tomorrow,” he says before he walks away. Wanda catches up to him and she says something about walking him out and he smirks. “Who's the nosey one now?” He teases and she shakes her head. 

“All of it, Rachel, you, us,” Daisy says as tears start to stream down her face. “I thought,” she takes a shaky breath as she runs her fingers through her hair, “I thought I wanted all of it. I swear to you, every time that I told you I was ready I meant it but… the way she fell. The reality that she could be gone in a split of a second. I froze. I froze when none of you did. I can't be a parent. I can’t be a parent,” she mutters the last part to herself a couple of times and you try to get her to look at you again to keep her from spiraling. “I cannot be another parent to Rachel! I'm not even ready to own a dog or take care of a plant. Oh I've killed so many plants. So many dead plants. And Rachel, she isn't a plant. She is a person and I can't,” you cut her off with a hug to stop her rambling. 

“Okay, shhh, shhh. It's okay,” you try to soothe Daisy as she sobs into your arms. “No one is asking you to be another parent to Rachel. She already has two mom's. She doesn't need-” 

“That's the thing, she doesn't. She has Wanda too.” Daisy holds her hand up to stop you from denying it. “I know what you're going to say. That it's not like that with her. But Rachel isn't her child and she was the first one to rush to her aid! She fought for her safety and I couldn't stop recording. She has instincts that I don't have. That I don't care to have. Not right now.” Daisy says and you don't know how to respond. You can tell her that you froze too but that won't mean much because you did eventually move. You can say that she's not expected to be a parent but you don't know how many more ways you can say it. “Wanda was able to get her family out here to support you and Rachel and I can't even get my dad here. Because he does hate you and he doesn't support us being together. Let's face it, I don't belong here. You and I… we don't work.” You open your mouth to try and come up with an argument but you fall short. You can't think of a reason for her to stay. This is the out that you were searching for months ago. A piece of you doesn't want this to be the end but it's not big enough to stop it from happening.

“So, this is it?” You say with a frown looking down at her keys and tears burning your eyes. No matter what, it hurts to say goodbye to a relationship that you've managed to maintain for months longer than you thought you could. 

“It has to be,” Daisy wipes her face with the back of her hand. You nod and hand her the keys that you held hostage.

“I understand,” you clear your throat. “Thank you for reminding me that I'm still young,” you say as she takes the keys. “And for letting me love you.” Her lips twitch at your words and she gives you a tight hug. 

“Please let me know when she is okay but after that… Please don't contact me. I'm going to need the space to get over you,” she says as she pulls away. 

“If that's what you want,” you reply. Daisy nods as she confirms it's what she wants. You walk away as she climbs into her car. You don't turn back because the thought of watching her leave is too painful. You don't want to experience the reality of it. Wanda is sitting on a park bench that is near the front doors of the hospital. “Hey you,” you greet as you get closer to her and try to hide the way you wipe your tears. “Didn't expect to see you out here,” she explains that what started as walking her brother out turned into her needing some fresh air as well. “Mind if I join you?” She nods as she scooches over to give you more space. 

“Everything okay with the girlfriend?” Wanda asks, sensing that whatever conversation that was had, wasn't a good one.

“Ex-girlfriend,” you correct, causing Wanda's eyebrows to shoot up and eyes to widen. “And everything is good with her. I think,” you look out into the parking lot and think about how scared she looked to be here. “I guess my reality finally spooked her and I don't have it in me to convince her to stay. It's not fair to tie her down to all of this,” you gesture to the hospital where your odd family lives. “Not when she has the option to leave.” 

Wanda nods in understanding. “Technically, even if she did marry you and have a kid with you, she'd always have the option to leave,” she states as she thinks back on this evening when Vision chose to take his other family on a vacation instead of staying even one night to watch her boys perform. She knew how important it was for Billy to have his father there. Tommy won't ever admit it but he was also excited to perform for his dad. “People aren't ever without options. We just make choices and learn to be okay with the consequences,” both you and Wanda turn to look at each other as she talks. “Whatever those may be.” 

You take in her words and nod slowly. “I never thought of it that way,” you admit. The two of you get quiet as you let the concept sink in.  “I heard Vision couldn't make it to the show,” you say conversationally. Wanda nods to confirm but doesn't elaborate on it further. She doesn't want to talk bad about her ex-husband anymore but he makes it so difficult. “Billy was really great on that stage. The kid is wicked talented,” you compliment and it makes Wanda smile. 

“Wanna know a secret?” She asks and you answer that you do. “He is named after William Shakespeare. I don't know how to explain it but ever since he was growing in me I had this image of him being wildly successful on stage and even on screen but mostly stage.” Wanda admits and it makes you smile a bit.

“That mother's intuition is strong with you,” you state and she shrugs. 

“I don't know how true that is,” she combs her hair with her fingers. “All I know is that you're the first person to see that potential in him. More than that, you’re the first person to get him to see it in himself.” You don't recall how you did such a thing and Wanda can sense your confusion. “When you complimented his dancing that one night, he took it to heart. I've seen that boy hurt himself time and time again to be more like his brother and get approval from his father but I think you got through to him.” She looks out to the parking lot. “I have never seen him happier and more free than I did tonight. Thank you for that.” She looks back to you and you give her a shrug this time. 

“I didn't realize I did anything so I won't take any credit for it,” you reply. “But thank you for telling me that.” You sigh as you look back into the building. “We should probably go back in there soon. There might be an update on Rachel.” 

Wanda agrees with a silent nod. “I could use a smoke right about now,” she admits and you scoff. 

“So could I,” you shake your head and look at the cigarette butts that litter the ground beneath the bench. “But I've been clean for forty-five days and I promised Jean that I'd stick with it this time. For Rachel.” 

“Glad to hear you're taking better care of yourself,” Wanda says. You ask if she's doing the same and she nods. “I never really had a bad habit of smoking, I've only ever done it occasionally. I don't think I've even opened the pack you gifted me,” she states as she stands up. “Okay, let's go back inside. We've been out here long enough.” 

“Alright,” you make a noise as you stand up and stretch. “Thank you for not asking if I'm okay,” you say with a small laugh. Wanda lets out a bigger one as she pats your back. The feeling of her hand on your back leaves a warm sensation.

“I didn't ask because I know you're not,” she says as the two of you walk into the building together. You find her statement as humorous as she does. The pair of you continue to talk as you walk back to the waiting area. Everyone looks at you when you return and you can tell that they notice the absence of Daisy but no one says a word about it. 

“Have you heard anything?” You ask Jean and she shakes her head. You nod and find a seat to get comfortable as the wait continues. As another hour passes with no update, everyone starts to get a little uneasy about what could be going on with the surgery. It didn't seem right to be waiting so long for another update. 

Your dad is the first one to start asking the nurses at the front desk for anything but he is told that if there's something to be told, someone will come out. Next it's your mom who believes she can be more persuasive. But she comes back with the same response. Her husband, Derek, who comes from money, thinks he can bribe one of the nurses to get more information but none of them take it and send him back to his seat with a threat that he will be removed from the hospital if he tries again. 

Kate is the next person to try and get information but she doesn't let anyone know that. She excuses herself to the restroom but as she walks around, she isn't looking for the restroom. She finds a clean set of scrubs along with a mask and scrub cap. From there, she makes her way to the locker room and finds a badge from one of the interns. She then walks through the operation hall and tries to find out where her niece is. When she does, she washes her hands before slipping in. She'll be damned if she compromises Rachel's health. Kate avoids looking at the table, unable to see her niece in that state of vulnerability, and instead searches for answers of the girl's condition. 

There are nurses and interns in the room that she notices are pretty chatty so she makes her way around the room listening closely and charming those that notice her presence. When she is able to get someone to talk about the patient on the table she tries to record it all in a notepad that she found when she was doing her snooping. She jotted all of the information down as if she was going to use it for studying later. But just as she thought she was going to excuse herself for the bathroom to leave, the intern she was chatting with asks if Kate will stay so that she can get a bathroom break. “I, well, um, I don't see why not,” she stumbles. The intern thanks her and walks out. She checks her smartwatch as seconds feel like minutes and minutes feel like hours. 

“Somewhere better to be?” The doctor says as he looks up from the table.

Everyone looks at Kate and she plays it off as though she doesn't know who he was talking to. “Me? No, no, I had sushi for lunch. From the gas station around the corner.” Everyone makes a noise as if each person in the room has had this made up experience. “Yeah, I probably should have listened to the warnings.” Kate holds her stomach and shifts uncomfortably. 

The doctor nods, “You're excused. Hopefully you don't make that mistake twice.” 

“Thank you, sir,” Kate says as she rushes to the exit to really sell it. She does stop at a bathroom to take a moment for herself before she has to sneak her way back out to her family. She looks over her notes again and again but hardly understands a word of it. So she calls Yelena to help her. Yelena isn't a medical student but she is the smartest person that Kate knows. The dial tone only goes twice before her friend answers. “I need your help,” she says before she explains her reasoning for the call. 

Together the two young women decipher the information that Kate was able to acquire. “You're a lifesaver, Yelena! I-” she stops herself from telling her friend that she loves her. She used to say it easily but since her feelings have developed further, it's become awkward. Especially after Kate tried to kiss Yelena. Her friend was sweet about it, and she said that if there was a person that she'd want that kind of life with it would be Kate. But as it is, she is asexual and aromantic. It's not something she can’t change about herself, it's just how she is. “I really appreciate the help. Thank you,” she says instead, then she bids her friend a happy holiday. She rushes out of the bathroom to get to the janitor's closet where she left her clothes. 

I can't believe I pulled that off, Kate thinks to herself as she straightens out her clothes. Without checking if the coast is clear, she steps out and bumps into a nurse. “That's not the bathroom!” Kate says to cover. The woman doesn't buy it and opens the door to find the scrubs in a pile on the floor. “Huh, I guess sex between the hospital staff isn't just for Grey's Anatomy,” Kate says as she looks at the scrubs as if for the first time. She smiles as the nurse makes a disbelieving facial expression at her. 

You are having a conversation with your stepdad about how he likes being in New York City when there is a lot of commotion coming from the halls. It's not until you and your mom and stepdad recognize Kate's voice that the three of you walk out of the area to see what's going on. She is being dragged out by two security guards as she swears that she only got lost looking for the bathroom. “I'll handle this,” Eleanor says as she follows the guards out of the hospital as they carry her daughter. 

You shake your head with a laugh as you walk back to your seat. Wanda asks what happened and you shrug and say that Kate must've done something illegal because she just got kicked out. “Are you serious?” Jean asks as she sits up from previously leaning on Anna’s shoulder. Derek confirms it and because the two of you are known for making up stuff at Jean's expense, she doesn't believe either of you until Eleanor returns to grab her things talking about how she has to take Kate home because they won't let the girl back into the hospital. Everyone has a laugh because they don't quite understand what has transpired in order to get Kate banned from the hospital for the foreseeable future. 

Eleanor leaves and it makes some of you laugh harder. It's clear that the stress of the situation has gotten to their heads but it's nice to have the moment that isn't overwhelmed by worry and fear. 

The moment is cut short, however, when the doctor clears his throat and addresses the room requesting the parents of Rachel Y/l/n-Grey.

Chapter 13

Taglist: @princessprudy @sayah13 @agaymilflover @awkwardmandalorian @bentleywolf29 @thatshyboy1998 @artisannat @thisischaismagic @wqndanat @madamevirgo @likefirenrain @tearsofglitter @feltlikethat @the-writer-arcane @natashasilverfox @karsonromanoff @aloneodi @lovelyy-moonlight @red1culous @jovialsublimecomputer @natasha-maximoff @iliketozoneout @doudouneverte @druggedduck @notbornbutforged @when-wolves-howl @lifespectator @justyourwritter69 @wandaromamoff69 @awesomelygayasf @nekoannie-chan @diaryoflife @wuwu96 @wandanats-goodgirl @sincerely-indi @blueredg52 @sisiwritesfanfics @fuzzyuniversityeclipsefriend @arcturusseer @scarlettwidow34 @chasethemoon @raven-ss @canyonyodeler @sokovianbaby @alexawynters @bittysworld @hopeless-romantic17177

[the-mad-starker]

Starker Fluff: LUV U, from Morgan💗

For @starksvinyls in @starkerfestivals Starker Valentine's Day Exchange 💗💗

I chose this prompt!

Prompt: Their kid’s first valentine’s day in grade school and them helping prepare

I hope you like it and that my fluff was sufficient 🥺 I don't write fluff much but I had fun writing this!! And of course, the hardest bit was finding a title and I finally went with this 😱 the LUV U, from Morgan💗 is supposed to be towards the entire starker fandom cause I love you guys 💗

Rating: G

Notes: Omegaverse, married starker, mpreg (Peter is currently pregnant in the fic), domestic fluff

WC: 2662

(AO3 Link)

💗💗💗

Tony Stark, perusing down the aisle of a local Walgreens? More likely than you think. Especially when he's being led by the hand by his 6 year old daughter, Morgan.

The little alpha girl was determined because she had seen the softest, prettiest blankets and had wanted to get them for her best friends.

“There! There!” She did a kind of hop skip, jerking impatiently in place because of her grip on Tony’s hand.

For such a little girl, her grip was strong but even then Tony just grinned and hurried along. Once they were close enough, Morgan let him go and eagerly reached up on her tippy toes to get the large throw blanket.

Tony could've easily gotten it for her but she was at that age where she wanted to do everything by herself so Tony let her when it was possible.

The blanket was almost bigger than her, a cute turquoise blue that was decorated with cute candy hearts. Once Morgan had it in her hands, she rubbed her face against a candy heart that said “LUV U.”

“It's so soft,” Morgan marveled, “just like Mama’s nest blankets.”

She ran her little hand over the blanket’s surface and looked up at Tony with those honey brown eyes she inherited from her mama and Tony’s mate, Peter.

“Do you think they’ll like it?” she asked with all the seriousness a 6 year old was capable of.

Tony knew a simple yes wouldn't do it so he bent down on a knee and held out a hand.

Morgan offered it to him and Tony took it. He ran a critical eye over it and let out some serious sounding hmm’s and ahh’s.

The blanket was soft and warm, the fabric especially tailored to omegas and meant for their nests. There was even a little pouch area where an alpha could insert an included heart candy shaped pillow. An alpha could scent the pillow and it could be inserted into the pouch so that the alpha’s scent could soothe the omega it was given to.

It was a popular gift given by alphas for good reason.

Of course, the price for it reflected that but money had never been an issue. He could easily get something of much better quality but this was the one Morgan wanted to give. And so, it was the one they were getting.

It really was a cute gift and even though Morgan and her besties were far from the ages where such gifts were really intended for, blankets were common gifts given between friends. Besides, just because it was tailored to omegas didn't mean alphas couldn't receive it as gifts too. Sharing scents between friends was a common gesture of affection, after all.

Overall, Tony thought it was a thoughtful gift for Morgan’s best friends.

“They’re gonna love it, Morguna,” Tony announced, showing his approval.

Morgan gave a large smile and proudly said, “I like it too! And look! There's a few different colors!”

Morgan took back the blanket with a happy smile and Tony smiled too, infected by her enthusiasm.

This time, Morgan watched as Tony pulled a few more blankets, each color getting the young alpha’s approval.

Once their main objective was secured, they checked out the rest of the aisle. Besides getting her besties their gifts, Morgan was also handing out Valentine's Day cards along with a small little gift baggie.

The Valentine's Day aisle was full of gifts. Fuzzy blankets, slippers, and of course, lots and lots of chocolate and candy. Across from the gifts was an aisle completely full of plushies of various sizes.

Tony had the pleasure of helping her load their little basket with goodies to make for goodie bags for the rest of her classmates. For the most part, he indulged Morgan’s choices, especially since she mostly went for cute pencils, stickers, erases, and mini notebooks. They were sold as sets, all intended for the little goodie bags that the Stark family would be setting up.

The little Valentine’s Day cards that sported the Avenger’s faces were ignored. Morgan had seen so much Avengers merchandise that she was mostly immune to it. Plus, for some reason they always made Iron Man’s face a little funky.

Instead, Morgan’s eye was caught by cute little animal themed Valentine’s Day cards which she happily put into the basket.

Tony did turn a blind eye to the little Spider-Man and Iron-man pair of plushies she snuck into the basket. It wasn't exactly easy to ignore when they were as big as her arm.

“For Mama and Daddy,” Morgan told him anyway. Then she held up a squishmallow of Spider-Man that was the size of her hand and asked, “For Morgan?”

Tony was supposed to be the stern parent but he quickly melted to Morgan’s puppy eyes. “How can we have a Spider-Man and Iron-man without a little baby Spider-Man?”

At Tony’s comment, her eyes lit up and she quickly went back to where she found the baby Spidey, only to come back with another little Iron-man of the same size.

Tony should've known and yet, when she looked up at him, offering the toy with the question, “For baby Benny?” Tony could only melt at her request.

Even mentioning the baby that Peter was carrying had Tony turning into a pile of mush. The baby in Peter’s belly was, according to Google, the size of a papaya at week 21. Their second pup, Morgan’s little brother that she was already spoiling.

Peter often blamed Tony for it, but they both knew that their little Morgan was just a thoughtful and excited Big Sister to Be.

“Of course, baby girl,” Tony smiled wide, lowering the basket so she could put the toy in. “We can't forget baby Benny.”

“Course not!” Morgan nodded oh so seriously, a satisfied smile on her face.

While they waited in line, Tony took a quick picture of their haul and sent it to his mate. Peter’s exasperated but fond response had Tony grinning.

My Love, My Mate, Hubby ❤️

We’re going to have a whole room dedicated to plushies of us and the team, aren't we? 🧐

Received

Tony Stark

Guess I shouldn't spoil what Pepp and Rhodey got the kids.

Sent

The conversation ended there as Tony and Morgan were next in line. A few minutes later, the two left and returned home.

There were plans. Plans which involve Morgan going to bed at 8 PM, the latest, but of course, things never panned out the way they wanted.

Morgan was too excited for Valentine's Day and even more so when they returned to find cupcakes waiting for them. Tony and Morgan had gotten the goodies while Peter had gotten the bags and cupcakes.

What followed was a night of chaos, as Peter, Tony, and Morgan worked together to put the goodie bags together.

Between the two of them, Peter was the genius as he set up the empty goodie bags on the table. Tony was regulated to organizing the packs of stickers, pencils, and erasers.

Their Morgan was fairly popular but she only called maybe two other kids her besties. For these, she personally picked out their stuff, but for the rest, Tony took over.

It was messy. It was a little chaotic.

Tony could've easily just gotten some grunts to do this or even easier, just bought some standard goodie bags. But as he was dropping pieces of candy, one by one, into each bag, he couldn't help but watch his two favorite people.

Morgan and Peter were across from him, working on the cards.

“This one for Parker?” Peter held up a card with some cute little frogs and read the front, “I hop we stay friends forever!”

“Oh!” Morgan giggled at the words and nodded. “Yeah, they’ll like that! They like frogs!”

Morgan took the card and focused on writing her classmate’s name with Peter’s supervision.

“P-A-R-K-E-R,” Peter instructed gently.

Morgan’s pencil was steady as she wrote and she echoed back each letter.

“...K… E…R!” She cheered as she finished. “Like this?”

A sweet smile crossed Peter’s face and kissed the top of Morgan’s head.

“Good job, baby.” he said then smiling down at the name, he added, “Did you know Mama's last name used to be Parker?”

Morgan looked up at Peter with a surprised look.

“Your last name’s Stark though! Like mine,” she said, 100% confident.

Peter just laughed and smiled. “Yeah, it's Stark now but before I met your Daddy, my name used to be Peter Parker.”

Morgan’s mouth formed a little O as she thought about it.

“I like it,” she decided, “But I like mama as Peter Stark too.”

Peter laughed again before agreeing wholeheartedly. “I like it too.”

Their laughter and soft giggles had Tony looking up, pausing in his own task. He had caught the tail end of the conversation and couldn't help the warmth that spread throughout his body as he looked at them. His pup. His mate. This moment… It was just part of their daily lives. It wasn't even Valentines Day and all they were doing was preparing for a little kid party.

A moment in time, something normal, and just every day. And yet… Tony felt like he could capture this moment, have it become one of his core memories. Morgan and Peter, their heads bent low as they worked together. Morgan’s little fingers curled around a pencil while Peter watched her, one hand on his pregnant belly, and the other fiddling with another Valentine's Day card.

“Love… M… o… r… g… a… n…!” their daughter cheerfully completed the card.

Morgan then looked up, as did Peter.

“Tony?” Peter asked curiously. He arched a brow even as Morgan reached over to hand the card to the alpha. “Anything wrong?”

He took a second to reply, just taking in the sight of Morgan looking at him curiously and Peter’s familiar and much loved face.

“Absolutely nothing, sweetheart,” Tony replied.

He took the card and continued putting the goodies in the bag. This time, he focused so they could get everything done in time. Even then, he had one ear listening to his mate and pup and occasionally, if he looked up and watched them joke around and write the cards, no one would blame him.

Truly, there was absolutely nothing wrong in his world.

His heart was full and he was not lacking anything in the world when he had these two– his family, his loves. His smile only grew wider when he thought of baby Benny.

There was absolutely nothing wrong and everything right.

After they finished, they were left with several neat rows of goodie bags, each one tucked by hand written cards by their sweet alpha girl. They made sure to praise her. Morgan had inherited Tony’s busy mind so being able to sit down for the hour was an accomplishment. It helped that Peter coached her and kept her attention by engaging her about her classmates.

Once dinner passed and then bedtime, Tony carried their kid to get washed up and from there, Peter took over.

Tony caught a glimpse of them, Morgan squealing as she ran into her room. Her arms were full of the plushies that were bought earlier, as well as the little heart shaped scent pillows for her best friends.

Peter tucked Morgan into her own big girl bed. There were a few blankets from their nest because even though Morgan was a big girl now (her words, not Tony's), she still couldn't fall asleep without the scent of her mama and papa. Tony hadn't protested the loss of their stolen blankets. He may even shed a tear when the day comes that she no longer needed or wanted to be scented by her parents but that day was somewhere far in the future.

By the time Tony came by, Morgan’s eyes were sleep heavy. They only fully close once Tony and Peter each give her a kiss on the forehead, exchanging “I love you”s and sleepy good nights.

Tony left the door open a crack and led his mate to their own comfy little nest with an arm around his waist.

When the lights turned on, Peter let out a soft little gasp when he was met by a huge bouquet of roses set by the bedside table.

“Oh…” He turned a pleased little smile towards Tony. “You know I don't need roses, Tony.”

Since Morgan was born, it felt like sometimes there was a fast forward button pressed on their days. There was just so much to do and so much to plan for. With the arrival of baby Benny, it would only get busier. And yet, Tony was determined to do his best to show how much he loved his mate and to do even these little things like get his roses whether it was Valentine's Day or not.

Tony hummed and wrapped his arms around his mate’s waist.

“I know, darling, but you deserve them,” Tony said. His hands slid towards Peter’s belly and he gently caressed the small bump there. “You're my partner in crime, the omega to my alpha, the mother to my kids– I love you, Pete. You've given me so much, let me give you flowers once in a while?”

“You give me so much more than just flowers, alpha,” Pete said in return. He cupped Tony's face in his palms, and the kiss they shared was as sweet as chocolate.

Tony sighed in contentment and breathed in the scent of his mate, his home.

“Wait– wait, don't distract me,” Tony huffed, pulling away to Peter’s surprise. “I have another gift for you.”

“Oh?” Peter questioned.

“Yeah, sit down,” Tony told him and Peter, with a healthy amount of curiosity, did as he was asked.

He only understood when Tony knelt down and took a hold of his foot, one hand cupping the sole whole the other rested on top.

“Oh!” Peter gasped, almost melting back into their nest of pillows and blankets.

“I learned a new thing,” Tony said as he massaged his mate’s aching foot. “I know it was around this time that it got particularly hard when you had Morgan and I felt bad that I couldn't help before… So just lay back and relax, babe.”

Peter had no complaints and by the time Tony was done, he had a fully relaxed mate cuddling into the pillows.

Inside him, Tony’s alpha was very pleased at being able to relieve some of Peter’s pain. He was even more pleased when he came into the nest and spent some time with the baby.

He caressed his mate’s pregnant belly, talking to baby Benny and peppering kisses on Peter’s belly. His soft words were mixed in with soft hmm’s from Peter and those words turned into a wordless pur when the omega started running his hand through Tony’s hair.

“Goodnight, baby Benny,” Tony whispered and pressed one more kiss to Peter’s belly. “Be good and let your mama rest, okay? You can go nuts when you come out, Papa will take care of you.

Peter chuckled, the soft laugher making his belly quiver beneath Tony’s touch.

“You say that now, but remember when Morgan came? You were a mess,” Peter teased him gently.

Tony kindly didn't mention that they had both been a mess as new parents but they had eventually found their way, hadn't they?

Morgan, being a great kid, was evidence of that.

Tony settled behind his mate, spooning against him so he could continue petting the soft skin of Peter's belly.

“I’m a pro now,” Tony protested quietly. “And I'm sure Benny will be a little angel.”

“Mhmm…” Peter murmured, already slipping into sleep. Tony nuzzled in close, kissing the spot right behind his mate’s ear.

He fell asleep to the sound of his mate’s purring, feeling content with his lot in life.

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

Intercity Relations (An Arcane one-shot)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Two weeks later:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And that was when you first saw him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[cosmichorrorsarestillnicerthanme]

Futaba Sakura and Makoto niijima (separate) with a delinquent boyfriend that they find out is actually extremely smart like a futaba level genius but they cover it up and intentionally get average or bad grades. The reason is that in the past they were made fun of and an outcast throughout their life because of how smart they are.

I would like you to consider this your Christmas Gift from me to you my friend, I've been working on this for a while to get the style just right.

NOW! YOUR WISH IS MY COMMAND!

You and Futaba ran into each other through the most random of chances.

On a day she came into LeBlanc a tad later than usual, the bell rang as you stepped in, knuckles skint up, and wiping blood from your nose.

Sojiro, of course, gave you flack about how beat up you were.

You in turn teased him about his habit of adopting whatever downtrodden kids walked through his door.

Meanwhile, Futaba was wondering who in the world you were, and debating if this was the opportunity to try and put into practice what her and Joker were working on.

Then Sojiro asked her to grab the first aid kit under the bar.

And Futaba decided to at the very least try.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

“H-here you go!” Futaba stuttered as she gave Sojiro the small white case from under the bar.

“Thanks Futaba.” Sojiro said with a smile as he went to open the box before clicking his tongue.

“Damn, I knew I should’ve checked this when I went to grab some things for the shop.” Sojiro muttered.

“Hey, Futaba, do you mind keeping an eye on this jackass?” Sojiro asked, giving you the side eye as he spoke.

“S-sure I can, Sojiro!” Futaba responded.

This was her chance… to talk to another person!

“Thanks, I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t have to. This guy however has a bad habit of running off to galavant, kinda like that other guy in a way.” Sojiro groaned as he turned to grab his hat from off the hanger.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be right back.”

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Futaba fidgeted nervously on the stool as she looked at you.

“How the hell am I supposed to do this!” Futaba screamed in her head before her eyes locked onto your jacket’s pocket.

A featherman pin…

Futaba could work with this!

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

After that, the two of you hit it off quickly.

As it turns out, tv makes great conversation starters.

As it also turns out, you were a lot sharper than Futaba gave you credit for.

Almost as sharp as her if not just as.

It makes her wonder what you're doing as a delinquent…

Eh, who cares.

…

…

Okay, Futaba cared.

Especially when she told Sojiro how she felt after you left.

Because that's when Sojiro started teasing her about having her first crush.

And after the allotted period of denying and panicking over it, Futaba was forced to admit.

She did, in fact, have a crush.

On someone who liked the same things she did.

She applauded herself for having such good taste.

So, after a lot of prodding and poking from Joker and Sojiro, she managed to gather up the courage to ask to have dinner with you at LeBlanc.

It snowballed from there.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

“Hey… if you don’t mind me asking, why are ya a delinquent?” Futaba asked as she kicked her legs in the air while reading Manga.

“I’m not a delinquent, I’m a-” You began before saying in union with Futaba.

“Alternative School Security!”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, but I don’t think most security guards would beat the heck out of anyone who tried to bully others. Probably.” Futaba stated.

“Well, it's a boring story, not something that will keep you entertained.” You said as you leaned back in your chair.

“Try me, mister delinquent~!” Futaba teased.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Within the next few minutes, Futaba Sakura was ready to absolutely murder a lot of people.

Why would they do that?

Why?

That's just cruel!

Futaba knew what the Phantom Thieves' next mission in Mementos would be!

Oh she was gonna absolutely throttle those shadows!

You made an impression on Makoto when the two of you first met.

More specifically, you made an impression on some guy's face.

Several guys in fact.

You see, when the two of you met.

Makoto Nijimia, was being mugged.

Then you, the local delinquent stepped in.

And seeing as this was your turf…

You doled out some… fitting punishment for those trespassers.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Makoto prepared to step in as the first and leader of the men charged you.

She may not be in the metaverse, but she still does know how to fight.

However, Makoto learned quickly that you did not need any help from her when you dodged the first punch and countered by hitting him with an uppercut to the chin that sent him stumbling back and then another punch to the nose which knocked him out cold.

Needless to say, the two minions of that man ran off immediately after.

Or they attempted to, as it turns out being clotheslined and having a bent metal pipe tossed at someone tends to stop the person on the receiving end of that in their tracks.

You were content to leave it at that.

Unfortunately, a pretty lady with short hair and who was also a stickler for rules decided otherwise.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

“So then, get mugged around here often?” You asked the young woman next to you.

“I am SO sorry about this…” Makoto groaned as she put her face in her hands.

“Oh don’t worry, I just love spending my nights in handcuffs!” You stated sarcastically as you raised your hands from the table, or as far as you could with your hands cuffed to it.

As it turns out, a known delinquent walking into the Police Station with three unconscious guys and an innocent young woman tends to send the wrong message.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

And that's how you and Makoto Niijima met.

Needless to say, you and Makoto were attached at the hip after that.

Then one thing led to another and then the two of you just…

Started dating. 

It wasn’t really anything big, it just… happened.

Then Makoto noticed something.

All of your schoolwork was…

Exceedingly average…

Everything was actually perfectly average…

To the exact point…

This warrants a call to a friend.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

“Hey, Futaba, can you check something for me?” Makoto asked Futaba over the phone.

“Sure ya can Queenie! Is this about your new beau?” Futaba teased.

“H-how did you- *Sigh* Yes, it is. I need you to check his grades, his all time grades.” Makoto told her friend with a sigh.

Futaba was silent on the other side of the line for a moment.

Then Makoto heard Futaba let out a whistle.

“Wow! This guy is good! Really, really, really, good!” Futaba exclaimed excitedly.

“Wha-” Makoto tried to speak before being cut off by Futaba.

“Aces in everything, on every assignment, every test, in every subject, and I mean everything, and a spotless record to boot! At least until… last year. Then it's all perfectly average work, and constant write ups about getting into the middle of fights and punching bullies out.” Futaba told Makoto, the clacking of a keyboard coming through the speaker of her phone.

“Looking at this guy’s record… Makoto, be sure to avoid telling him what your after school job is, yeah? I don’t doubt the shift manager would want the help, but Mona probably wouldn’t be all that happy with a new guy to drive around.” Futaba told Makoto, warning her about the way you might react to the Metaverse if exposed to it.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Shortly following this conversation, Makoto asked you about your grades.

You dodged the questions as best as you could, but Makoto, your wonderful girlfriend, continued to press the question.

It took her a little while, but you did answer.

You told her about how, once upon a time, you were the top of your class, unparalleled in basically anything you learned, constantly earning the highest possible grades with ease and even used as a shining example of what a good student should be.

But then, at the beginning of the last school year, the perception around you turned sour due to envy.

A group of bullies started harassing you and, no matter what you said or tried, the school did nothing.

So, you dropped out of the spotlight, avoided the reputation you had and managed to transfer schools.

After that, you gained a new reputation for completely average work and stopping bullies that the school would refuse to do anything about.

The rest, as they say, is history.

In response to this, Makoto asked only for the names of the bullies and the teachers.

By this point you already figured out what Makoto’s “After School Job” was.

But that doesn’t mean you didn’t give her the names without any lip.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

The following day, you received a series of calls and texts.

All of them being apologies.

All of them from the people who bullied you.

[villainessprefect]

title: Got me feeling like it's all too much

summary: All he wants to do is give you a gift, as thanks. But old habits die hard and he's never done this before. (teacher!AU)

ship: Idia x gn!reader

word count: 1,651

note: something I wrote while I was at con 2 weeks ago lol I just got hit with some teacher au & made this woo

Read on AO3

Idia takes in a shaky breath. Fingers play with the plush in his hands. It's a small blue and black cat that's soft to the touch. It was meant to be based on the cat that stays by your side but with a touch of his dorm. He had second thoughts about basing it off of him. The last thing he wanted was for that cute little kitty to get jealous of his creation. Although, it might be worth seeing.

Lanky fingers press down on the plush's stomach. He knows not to squeeze too hard and avoid meeting the mechanics inside. Idia hopes you won't squeeze the poor thing and harm yourself, but he's made sure that the technology inside of it is small and harmless. You'd only hurt yourself if you ripped it open.

The man gulps and hesitates at the mirror leading to campus. School may be out for the day, but that doesn't mean the students have all gone back to their dorms. And he knows that his appearance, whether before or after class, always causes a scene. Spotting the elusive Mr. Shroud in person was never good. It either meant there was an exam or he was on his way to scold a student about their poor skills in his class. The latter rarely happened and was usually left to Ortho though, but when he notices how poorly a student is doing (like snooping around servers they shouldn't be) then he steps in.

Despite his anxieties, that's not what really gets him to linger in the mirror. Sure, he hates the attention. He'd rather just send his tablet or test out his latest hologram work that was actually tangible than actually step inside a classroom.

But it's you that makes him waver. The simple thought of you makes his heart flutter and his hair flare into a completely different color. His cheeks warm and his hands begin to feel sweaty. It makes him feel like he's some high school girl crushing on the hottest person in school even though he isn't one and he graduated years ago.

You weren't supposed to be special to him. You were supposed to be some accident, a magicless human forced into labor thanks to the headmage. You were stuck in a school, a world where even the weakest of students here could easily beat you in a fight. Most students didn't bother listening to you after learning how powerless you were compared to them. It didn't help that you were treated more like a janitor, as you cleaned up the messes of students and teachers alike, rather than a teacher's aide.

Despite your situation, you were unbelievably kind. Maybe too kind. He remembers how it started with you picking up his ID card. He had given you a quiet thanks before quickly scurrying off. It should have ended there, but then you had assisted Ortho when a spell had gone wrong and he needed help with some repairs. Your technomagic skills were lower than zero, but it's the fact you stood beside him until he could get to Idia that got him.

You also helped him outside of your scheduled hours. When you were his aide, you remained after class to grade papers even though Idia could have a program do it within seconds. Except that piece of technology had broken down thanks to a student, so you were the next best thing. You also simplified his words for students too, like you were his personal translator. Not that he needed it, but these kids really didn't know his older internet slang. Like seriously, did these kids not know what PWNED or TMOT meant?

It didn't help that you treated him like everyone else. He was a Shroud. Most people had some idea of what that meant. But you had no knowledge of his past nor his curse. And even after you learned, your attitude towards him never changed. Idia imagines this is what being normal might feel like. It makes him wish he had met you when he was in high school.

The man sighs as he realizes that he's been standing in front of the mirror for...how long now? Golden eyes dart to the side and find no other soul lingering about. He's grateful that Ignihyde never changed. The students here were just like him, kept to themselves, and remained hidden behind closed doors. Only coming out when necessary as they remained preoccupied with their computers.

"Man, this is so lame," he breathes out. "I haven't changed at all..."

Idia looks to the mirror as his heart begins to fall. The courage that led him here was withering away. While he knows his creation is perfect, he doesn't believe that you would ever want it.

As he's about to turn away, the mirror begins to swirl, signaling a person coming through. Panic runs through his veins as he takes a step back. His fingers tremble and he nearly drops the plush. Rather than running as he should or calling upon his brother, he remains frozen in place.

His blood runs cold when it's you that pops through the mirror.

Idia watches as your eyes widen from nearly colliding with him. Thankfully, you're the quicker out of the two and stop yourself from running into him. Still, you're a bit too close for comfort. As you save both of you from an unnecessary cliche trope, Idia is quick to put his hands behind his back.

"Idia- Mr. Shroud," you correct yourself.

"I-Idia is fine..." He mumbles. His heart begins to race and he can't meet your gaze. The only thing he can do is manage a step back without tripping over his own hair. "What are you doing here?"

"Ortho said that you wanted me to bring your students' assignments to you," you answer. He finally notices the folder brimming with papers that are held against your chest. "I wanted to get a head start on them before I did, but I'm not as proficient as you in technomagic. I have them on a USB, but I thought having them physically might help."

"You don't need to waste paper like that." His voice is still low but now his mind is on his brother. You weren't supposed to come here- had he planned this? The younger Shroud had seen him fretting over how to give you a gift the other day. Maybe he figured that his big brother needed a little push. Except this push felt more like a shove.

"Should I come back another time?" You ask, snapping him out of his thoughts.

"N-No! I just..." Idia falters and squeezes the plush behind him. He wiggles uncomfortably in front of you before taking in a breath and holding it out toward you. "This is for you!" He shouts and regrets how high-pitched his voice sounds.

You stare at the cat plush in his hands. With one hand, you reach out to carefully hold it, inspecting the little creature.

"It's nothing much," Idia is quick to add. "You help out a lot. So, uh, I wanted to repay you even if it is technically your job. I guess. Anyway, it's not just a cute plush, it also works as an alarm. If you're in an emergency and you squeeze it three times in rapid succession it will also call Ortho to help you. There are a few more things too..." He rambles about a few more perks that this plush has. You would never guess this little thing had so many functions.

"You didn't have to make this for me," you say with a sweet smile. If you weren't holding onto the folder, you would have held the plush close to your chest. But the way you fondly look at it makes him weak in the knees. Your gentle and loving gaze is a critical hit to his health. If he were younger, he would have fainted. But he's definitely leveled up in his years! Not by much, but at least he can stay standing against your indirect attacks!

"I wanted to." He clears his throat. "Plus it's weird when you help out and don't have some technomagic on you." He cringes inwardly for saying that. Honestly, he doesn't even know why he did. Ugh. Couldn't he just say he was glad you liked it and move on with his life? Apparently not. "GG, enjoy it. TTYL."

Idia turns on his feet and is ready to head back to his room. Your reason for appearing here is already forgotten. It only clicks back when he notices the sound of footsteps trailing behind him.

"Mr- Idia! What about the assignments?" You call out as you quickly catch up to his side.

"That can wait. It's not like they need their grades now. I can get Ortho to look them over."

"But I want to learn from you too." Your words make him halt. When he turns he sees you with a determined glint in your eyes. "If I'm going to help you, I want to be able to know enough about technomagic. Then..." You bite your lower lip, hesitant to speak. When you do, your voice is quiet. "Then you can rely on me a little more."

Did he make you think you weren't reliable? Was it his suggestions about using technology over you? He only did that because it was easier. It lifted the burden off both of your shoulders. He didn't know that you actually wanted to know the material he taught.

"F-Fine. We can look over it together," he mutters, turning his head. The thought of spending time with you makes the tips of his hair flash pink. Sevens, was he about to have the teacher's version of a study date with you right now? "But I won't go easy on you just because you're an assistant."

[veryferaldistributions]

Autism is Not “Fun”

(Brutal honesty ahead.)

I think when autistic people such as myself get defensive about certain behaviors or personality traits “not being autistic,” we’re not trying to gatekeep, we’re telling it how it is.

I myself get really aggravated when certain kinds of people who would have been vicious bullies towards me and other autistic peers back in grade school become adults that then turn around and go “omg, autism is cool now! So this innocuous thing I did as a kid MUST be an autistic trait.”

No, it’s not. Autism is not cool. It’s the furthest thing from cool.

Autism is painfully uncomfortable, autism is gross, autism is lonely, autism is isolating, autism is embarrassing.

Autism is slow processing, and looking stupid in front of your class because you don’t understand the material. Even if you’re considered “gifted.” Or not being able to debate friends because your brain isn’t working fast enough.

Autism is having a full crying meltdown in front of your whole class because the fire alarm won’t stop going off or because your science class is using balloons and you’re terrified of them. In high school.

Autism is seeing another autistic kid wearing headphones all day and thinking “god, I don’t want to be equated to that freak.”

Autism is throwing other weirdos under the bus in self defense because “at least I’m not that bad. Maybe if they bully him, they won’t target me.”

Autism is your whole class laughing at you because you’re “freaking out” for seemingly no reason. Then forgetting you even exist the next day.

Autism is picking your nose and eating it or chewing your nails because it’s the one habit you can’t break. And doing it unconsciously in front of your peers.

Autism is having college-level writing skills and first-grade math skills simultaneously.

Autism is constantly being seen as “stupid” or “not applying herself.” And also being on honor roll.

Autism is sudden, violent rage that gets you sent to ISS for verbally threatening one of your bullies.

Autism is the teacher saying your handwriting looks like “chicken scratch.” In front of the whole class.

Autism is fighting with your mom because she wants you to dress “appropriately” but the fabric of the jeans is too overwhelming and all you want are ugly sweatpants.

Autism is being a terrible and possessive friend because you’re so scared of being alone again.

Autism is not having voice modulation, and shouting when you’re nervous.

Autism is not understanding why the class is laughing at you when you mispronounce “Uranus.”

Autism is not ever being able to enjoy fireworks because your brain equates it to being shot at.

Autism is never going to loud concerts and missing out.

Autism is not being able to stand working in retail because your brain fixates on the music until it drives you bonkers. Autism is constant miscommunication with customers.

Autism is not liking the feel of deodorant, so you smell like BO until a teacher calls you out on it.

Autism is farting in class because you don’t know you’re not supposed to do that.

Autism is not knowing you’ve bled on yourself until ANOTHER teacher points it out.

Autism is not being able to look teachers in the eye, even if it’s for something good, because it feels humiliating.

Autism is knowing, deep down, there must be some kind of disconnect, some kind of reason that you only gel with the other autistic kids, but your parents and counselors not having enough knowledge to help you.

Autism is your friends not knowing that THEY are also autistic, or are in denial about it. Even as adults.

Autism is your parents being in even deeper denial about it, because you’re so “high functioning.” But your therapist saying you are, beyond a shadow of a doubt, autistic.

In closing, I don’t completely hate being autistic, I don’t want to be cured, but I’d never say I’m “glad” I have autism. Life has gotten easier not being in public school, but the workforce still sucks with autism. It is what it is.

[lancermylove]

Aww my heart was gonna bust seeing the child kitchen witch post! Can I have a quick ask please? Like maybe she gets a barely passing grade on a test, and gets scared because at home her parents would hurt her if she didn’t get perfect scores despite being a CHILD! She surrounds herself in a salt circle before handing the test to Luci, while covering her head waiting to be hit! How do the brothers react?

Initial reaction:

Lucifer: Concerned. Does she think he will hit her? Kneels to her height, praises her for her efforts and asks what she would like as a reward for her efforts.

Mammon: Nearly laughs at seeing the salt circle. That ain't goin' to keep any demon out, 'specially not Lucifer....he knows because he has tried. Get upset at Lucifer for rewarding the child for her efforts - where are his gifts then? He puts a lot of effort into everything too!

Levi: Chuckles at the salt circle but wonders if she got a bad grade and is scared to face the consequences. If only keeping away Lucifer was as easy as pouring a salt circle around yourself.

Satan: Sighs. Remind him to teach her that salt circles don't actually keep demons away, but he is concerned. It's not normal for any children to show such behavior.

Asmo: Thinks the situation with the salt circle is cute and goes to take a picture but stops when he sees her covering her head. Why is she so scared?

Beel: Tempted to eat the salt but doesn't want his brothers to get mad. Beel isn't happy to see her cover her head. Doesn't she know that Lucifer would never hit her?

Belphie: Wonders if she faced major consequences for not doing well on her exams back in her world. Doesn't want to jump to conclusions, but he doesn't like this situation one bit.

----

Reaction after finding out why child mc did what she did:

Lucifer: Angry. Giving punishments for unacceptable behavior is fine but to a child and that too hitting her? That crosses several limits. What upsets him the most is MC got a 95 on her exam - a score worthy of praise - yet here she is scared and expecting to get hit.

Mammon: Disturbed. That's not right. How could anyone hit a child, and that too for a test grade. 95 is an amazing score! The parents should be praising her for studying hard enough to get an A. Maybe he should hand the parents to his witch friends and tell them to do whatever they want with her.

Levi: Sad. It's one thing if their child wasn't doing well in school and the parents were upset, but she got a 95! A NINTY-FIVE! They should be proud to have a smart kid. It's a good thing they were in front of him; otherwise, he would have summoned Lotan and drowned them both.

Satan: Angry. Perfectionism is good but only to a certain level. No one can expect any living creature to be perfect, especially not a child. He wants to hug her and tell her "it's alright" and "she did well".

Asmo: Unhappy. Her parents punished her for getting grades below 100? That's insane. They are insane. Everyone makes mistakes...the parents need to stop pretending that they are perfect because they are committing the biggest mistake of their life-destroying their child's mental health. She doesn't deserve this. Wants to ask Lucifer if they can adopt her and keep her with them.

Beel: Sad. Can he devour the parents whole? Family members are supposed to uplift and support each other, not hit each other...especially not a child over grades.

Belphie: Angry. If the parents are trying to teach the child to work hard and make something of herself, they are doing it wrong. And if they are trying to teach her to be perfect, they are in the wrong. There are no such creatures as perfect creatures, not in this realm, not in the celestial realm, and definitely not in the human realm.

[noddaduck]

What gets me about Kipperlilly is that while her trauma envy is messed up, she really is facing an opposite problem to the Bad Kids.

Some people on here are saying that if she wanted to go on big adventures she should have done it herself and not expected some kind of plot hook to give her an opening. But we are seeing how that is going for the Bad Kids this season, and it clearly sucks. Fabian went on his first date with Mazey, yet so much of that conversation and role play was still about the mystery and the mission. Gorgug lost a chance to spend time with his bio parents because he was trying to get into a really learning heavy class. The Bad Kids are such good friends, but they can only spend time together in shared classes or as part of the mission. Why would you expect that of anyone?

Most Aguefort kids aren’t going on big real-world adventures like the Bad Kids cause that’s literally being in High School while also working a full time career oriented job. And yet some of these kids know that this is all just leading up to that real job that they’ve never really experienced or seen proof that they could handle. Is it so weird for a child to want confirmation that they’ll be able to do all the things they’re supposed to do as an adult, especially when they are seeing other kids get that confirmation?

Riz isn’t strong because he suffered, he’s strong because he has an amazing mom he looked up to and learned from and who taught him. Having that vision of his own best self, not just a copy of another person but really something he loves that he was able to really learn thanks to the support he was lucky to get DESPITE his and his mom’s financial situation. He chased his own dream of being a master detective, of dishing out justice, and he got so good at it that it let him kill an ancient red dragon.

Personally, I was one of the smart kids in class, but I wasn’t one of the gifted and talented. One kid was working with circuitry in a class where I was learning about screws and levers. In a photography class I got paired up with a kid in a lower grade than me who full on made his own model rocket fuel for homemade bottle rockets. Combining that with having ADHD that nobody properly educated me about, I always thought I was just missing something. I’m taking my medicine, I’m going to class and trying to join clubs, why is it that every time I ask someone to teach me they don’t have time for a total beginner? Why is being my own teacher the only way to learn these things, and why can’t I do that if apparently everyone else does?

I just don’t blame Kipperlilly for being upset when she is presented with the Bad Kids as an example to follow despite the fact that neither she NOR the Bad Kids are given proper time to actually work toward that goal. The Bad Kids don’t actually have the time for adventures on top of their regular lives, but they are forced to do it anyway. Kipperlilly allowed for time so the Rat Grinders could have whatever their normal lives looked like, at least until they all were taken by Ancarna. If your choice is to either work yourself to death and be told you did the correct thing, or to take your time and be shown that you are wasting it, why wouldn’t you be angry?

[spacelazarwolf]

making a separate post but like. i don’t think some of y’all understand how genuinely traumatizing it is to have undiagnosed (or even diagnosed) adhd and go through school as the lazy stupid kid. i’ll tell you a little bit about what school looked like for me.

when i was in second grade, my teacher used to drag my desk up to the front of the class in the middle of lessons if i tapped my pencil or bounced my knee. she wouldn’t let me talk to any of my friends, and wouldn’t let me read my books when i was done with my assignments and was waiting for everyone else to finish. she would berate me in front of the whole class until i cried. her treatment of me got so bad my parents had to pull me out of school.

when i was in fifth grade, my teacher gave out “assignment alerts”, bright orange pieces of paper that indicated you’d forgotten to turn in an assignment. i was given dozens of these papers, and they started to build up, so it was harder to hide them. she would give these out in front of everyone in the middle of class, and she always made sure that when it came to me everyone knew i had the most. she would mock me in front of my classmates for my inability to keep up with homework and said that because my test scores were good it was because i was just lazy and didn’t care.

when i was in seventh grade, my teachers made me come up to the front of the class at the beginning and end of the period so they could inspect my assignment book and sign it, in view of the rest of my classmates, and announce whether or not i’d done my homework. when i inevitably forgot about assignments, they would berate me in front of the class.

when i was in high school, i wasn’t allowed to try to test into higher level classes because my teachers had decided that even though i did well on tests and papers, i wasn’t intelligent enough to take them because i couldn’t keep track of my assignments and deadlines. I was told over and over again that i was just lazy, and anytime i tried to explain what i later learned were symptoms of adhd i was berated and told i was making excuses.

when i was in college, i failed two classes my first year because i couldn’t keep up with the deadlines. the day before my second year, my best friend died, and i stopped going to classes. my teachers didn’t connect the dots because they assumed based on the previous year that i was just lazy and didn’t care about school. i failed several classes that year and never got the mental health assistance i needed, and my reputation at the school was pretty much shot. one teacher even went out of his way to try and fail me because he didn’t believe i deserved a degree. he tried to claim i’d plagiarized one of my papers to put a mark on my transcript. luckily he didn’t or i may have had to drop out. i had to do an extra year to make up for all the classes i’d failed, and barely graduated.

i did end up dropping out of my attempted masters degree (the only school that would take me with such a low gpa, and the only school that offered no scholarships or assistantships) because all of the teachers refused to give me any sort of accommodations, noting my bad grades from undergrad. i was given no patience or grace, my disability was not respected, and i had to drop out.

these experiences (which are just a handful of many) were so traumatic that they gave me diagnosed ptsd. i’m almost 30 and i’m still in therapy learning to cope with the horrifying levels of self hatred, anxiety, and dysfunction that my academic experiences gave me. i’m still learning how to even begin to function and take care of myself after i was told for so long by people who were supposed to help and support me that i didn’t deserve to succeed.

i fully understand how stressful it is to mask your neurodivergence in order to succeed, and how that can affect your mental health. i understand the high levels of anxiety and dysfunction in former gifted kids. i get that, and i respect it. but i’m honestly so tired of ppl trying to say there’s no difference in that experience vs. mine. that someone who had a 4.0 all through high school and college and got a good job is just as materially affected as someone who couldn’t just push through, who couldn’t make it through higher education, who couldn’t graduate high school, who can’t hold a job at all.

these experiences are all valid but they are DIFFERENT. and when the only people i ever hear about when talking about adhd are the former gifted kids, it makes me feel so incredibly alone. and maybe if there were a greater variety of voices and experiences that were showcased, people like me wouldn’t feel so isolated and self-critical. maybe we’d realize that we deserve grace and kindness too, even if we didn’t get to be the gifted kids.

[xo-zozo]

can you please make tig crack hcs where its just the most random and useless shit imaginable. tysm

omg i remember this from the comment section ofc!!

xander can do a bunch of weird stuff with his body and i know this sounds weird but he's like double jointed and can pop every bone in his body and cross his eyes and stuff like that

avery always steals whatever libby makes from the kitchen when she gets hungry in the middle of the night

jameson is the kind of person to curse all of the time but then he had to learn not to do it as much because avery thought it was annoying

xander was terrified to meet max's parents but they loved him

grayson had a phase where he watched "keeping up with the kardashians" when he was desperate for entertainment

jameson didn't know half of the rooms in hawthorne house existed until he was like thirteen because he always spent time in the same four rooms

grayson gives surprisingly good gifts for christmas and stuff

whenever max has a problem she screams the taylor swift song that she's assigned to the problem (same tho don't we all)

jameson likes the movie titanic because avery made him watch it

nash has a super high heat tolerance because he was the brother who was always out in the blistering texas sun for no reason

at some point when jameson was like eleven he had to start giving his phone to skye at night because he would always be playing roblox on it when he was supposed to be sleeping

jameson still plays roblox sometimes

grayson was one of the kids who had the erasers in the second grade and he took pride in them

off topic but would grayson like wear normal clothes when he was younger because for some reason i imagine him as an eight year old wearing suits to the third grade

at least once every few months max and xander watch all of the marvel movies together over the span of a week

that's all for now byee!!

[she-posts-nerdy-stuff]

Don't Go Blindly Into the Dark

Summary:

To hide that he can't read, Jan Van Eck has been forcing his son to pretend he's blind since he was eight years old. Wylan is now attending Ketterdam University, and meeting Jesper Fahey may very well be about to change his life. But is he safe to tell Jesper the truth? And what will Jesper say if he does?

Jesper is struggling to weigh up his life in the Barrel and his life at the University of Ketterdam, and there's a good chance that his growing debt is about to make the decision for him. He hasn't attended class consecutively for months, but maybe that will change when his newest project includes partnering up with Wylan Van Eck. But can he really leave the Barrel behind him? And how long can he keep up the pretence of who he thinks Wylan wants him to be?

Content warnings for this chapter: weapons, implied ptsd references, gambling addiction

@justalunaticfangirl

If anyone else would like to be tagged let me know :)

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55445686/chapters/140819224

Chapter 4 - Jesper

By the time Jesper woke up, he was supposed to already be in the library. Shit. Shit shit shit. He fumbled his way into his coat and hurried out of his dorm, arriving just in time to see his new Business and Markets partner walking back out of the building. Shit shit shit.

“Excuse me,” he’d said, hurrying to catch up with the boy yesterday.

He’d turned to face him slowly. 

“Hi. Are you…” Jesper surveyed the piece of paper in his hand, as if he didn’t know exactly what it said and exactly who he was talking to, “Wylan Van Eck?”

Wylan raised an eyebrow, tapping his slender cane pointedly against the floorboards. Up close Jesper could see that the kid’s eyes were slightly clouded over, softening the edges of what otherwise would have been a startling blue, but there was no sign of whatever accident might have caused him to lose his sight - except maybe a small, slender scar above his right cheekbone. But unless a good deal of it had faded since he was a child, the scar didn’t cross either of his eyes.

As soon as the note had shown up at his dorm this morning, stating his new partner for Business and Markets was none other than the merchling he’d seen leaving the office yesterday, the reason the dean had put them together was glaringly obvious: Jesper would have to take responsibility for writing the project, so he would be forced to do the work himself instead of letting Helena Dentte gift-wrap him a decent grade. Not that a single decent grade would’ve let him escape from the approaching surety that he was going to flunk out and end up wandering aimlessly around the Barrel until - until what? Until he ended up dead in a ditch somewhere?

“You already know that,” said Wylan, folding his arms.

“Alright, yeah, I already know that. I’m Jesper Fahey, I’m in your class; Economic Principles for-”

“For Business and Markets, right,” he nodded, “We’re being reassigned as partners?”

“Yeah,”

There was a pause.

“Do you, erm, want to meet some time to get started, or…?”

Jesper wasn’t really sure where that ‘or’ was going. 

“I have to get home pretty quickly after class,” Wylan swallowed, “My father worries. But I could meet you in the library tomorrow morning?”

Jesper nodded, then caught himself and said:

“Yeah, that sounds good. Say ten bells?”

“Ten bells,” 

To be entirely honest, he hadn’t been thrilled to see Wylan Van Eck’s name on the note he was currently distractedly crumpling between his fingers. The chances of him being more likely to pay for a grade than work for it were too high, and if Jesper was going to be stuck doing all the work alone then this plan of the dean’s was going to crash and burn about twenty times faster than it was already likely to. But at least he seemed prepared to start the project - Jesper couldn’t actually remember what the project was, so he’d have to hunt through the piles of abandoned papers in his room later to try and find the original assignment. But he’d had things to attend to first, and judging by this morning he’d apparently let them get out of hand. At least he woke up on campus though.

“Wylan!” he called, rushing up to the boy as he reached the base of the stone stairs, one hand on the railing and the other using his cane to find the edge of each step, “Hey, sorry, it’s Jesper. I’m so sorry-”

“Oh, so you decided to grace me with your presence?” Wylan snapped, turning to face him.

Jesper was taken slightly by surprise.

“Really,” he said, “I’m sorry, I just-”

“Showed up horrendously late,”

“Hey, look kid,” Jesper snapped, because it only took about three seconds for him to get defensive, “I’m trying to apologise to you here-”

“Don’t call me kid,” said Wylan, turning away, “If you want to try showing up tomorrow, I’ll be here from eight,”

Jesper was too taken aback to reply, and for a moment he just stood at the base of the stairs, watching Wylan walk away. He sighed - what time was it? He pulled the timepiece from his pocket and discovered he was over two hours late. Okay, maybe Wylan was right to be a little annoyed. More than a little annoyed. 

Twelve bells. He could go to the library alone, to study for a while. He could go and find that assignment, so he knew what he was actually doing when he met Wylan tomorrow. There were a thousand things he could have done.

He walked back to the Barrel, wondering vaguely what Wylan Van Eck was doing at the library from eight in the morning. It was a rare thing for Jepser to see eight in the morning. Jesper didn't want to cross paths with Wylan again until tomorrow; it was impossible to avoid the Geldcanal on the way back to the Staves but Wylan had gone North so Jesper moved South and crossed into East Stave not far from the Slat. 

When he’d arrived last night it had been about eight bells, leaving Jesper just enough time to change out of his ugly brown coat before he got to the Crow Club, and he’d found Nina on the doorstep of the Slat. It had taken him by surprise - she didn’t come this way much. Kaz had branded her a snob for it, but they all knew Nina was only here to find a means to an end. Jesper didn’t know the full story, but her beau was stuck in Hellgate on some false charges - at least she was claiming they were false, anyway - and she was making very slow progress through the living nightmare that was Kerch’s legal system in an attempt to win his freedom. But she wasn’t here tonight, and as Jesper wandered past and up towards the Crow Club he wondered what she’d been up to last night.  He hadn’t seen Kaz, in the end, except very briefly when he crossed through the Club and gave Jesper nothing more than a sidewards glance, but he had seen Inej. 

When Kaz walked through, Jesper was briefly overcome with the need to go and apologise to him. But that was the stupid in him; the part of him that imagined Kaz would forgive him and move on as though this weren’t the fifteen hundredth time he’d brought trouble to his door. He had to wonder why he kept him around, but the answer came pretty easily: he was a good shot, and they both knew he would stay no matter what Kaz said because he had nowhere else to go. So he didn’t make eye contact with Kaz, and instead turned his attention back to his hand of cards and the group of pigeons ready to pour their hard-earned cash into the Dregs’ coffers. It had been a couple of hours later when Inej appeared from nowhere and tapped him on the shoulder.

“Saints -” Jesper jumped, “you have got to stop doing that,”

“Not likely,” she said, “I might need you, I’m going to West Stave,”

Jesper frowned. 

“You are?”

“Nina needs me for something, didn’t say what in the message. I just - well, I don’t know what she wants. She said she’d meet me at Goedmed bridge,”

“Okay,” Jesper paused, “What do you need me for? I’m supposed to be here all night,”

“Kaz knows,”

Jesper fidgeted with one of his rings for a moment, then nodded. He kept up a steady stream of chatter as they walked to West Stave, because he knew Inej would find it easier than the quiet.

“And you’re joining me at university this week then?” he asked, when he was finally starting to run out of topics.

“In three days, if all goes to plan. I don’t really know what the plan is, but…”

“Let’s face it,” Jesper sighed, “even when he tells us, we never actually know the plan. I’ll never know how he does it,”

“I think it’s called running on up to sixty percent dumb luck,” said Inej, as Goedmed bridge and the silhouette of Nina Zenik came into view ahead of them.

As they approached Jesper realised the strange thing: Nina was wearing her kefta. Of course he knew she wore one at the White Rose, he’d been enough times when jobs went wrong and either he or a compatriot needed Healing, but he also knew she never wore it outside of the building. It just wasn’t safe to wander the streets so brazenly proclaiming you were Grisha like that. He fidgeted, finally falling quiet, and he felt Inej’s eyes flicking over him. Did she know? Had Kaz told her?

“Sorry,” said Nina, looking at Inej as they met on the bridge, “I know the note was vague, I wasn’t sure how much I could really say,”

“What’s going on?”

She played with the sleeve of her kefta.

“I’ve got a job, I don’t… I don’t know exactly what it’s going to look like, and I don’t like going out in this thing. I was just going to ask if you could tail me?”

Inej nodded, slowly.

“Where’s the job?”

“The Geldstraat,”

Jesper raised an eyebrow.

“What are you doing on the Geldstraat?”

“I have absolutely no idea. Something a Merchant Council member didn’t want to touch the White Rose for,”

“So literally anything?” offered Jesper.

Nina made a face that said ‘yeah, pretty much’. Inej rested her fingers on the knife handle in her belt - the one with the roses on, Jesper couldn’t remember which Saint she’d named after. He was distracted, because he’d noticed that she laid her hands on it or any of her other knives the same way he did his guns. She was on edge.

Now, as Jesper reached the Crow Club and the sun remained obstinately hidden behind a cloud, the building was about as quiet as he had seen it all month. He fought a yawn as he wandered in, surveying the several empty tables, but before he had a chance to take a seat at one of them games that was actually in progress Kaz had appeared ahead of him.

“I need you at Fifth Harbour,”

“Well, good morning to you too,”

Kaz didn’t look amused.

“Fifth Harbour. We’re quiet,”

“It’s always quiet at this time,”

“It’s too quiet. Go,”

Jesper went. And as much as he might have wanted - needed - to do otherwise, he took himself back to the University District that evening and he went to the library the next morning. He didn’t go at eight, because that was just ridiculous, but he managed to make it for nina bells half chime and he didn’t think that was bad at all. He found Wylan sitting alone at one of the tables, apparently not doing anything.

“Hey, kid, it’s me - Jesper,”

“I’m not a kid,” Wylan snapped, turning towards Jesper’s voice.

“Sure,” Jesper sat down opposite him, “You’re an elder statesman,”

Wylan ignored him. They started work, evidently both half-heartedly, and at some point Wylan muttered:

“I hate economics,”

Jesper snorted.

“Same. What a perfect partnership,” he plunked his fountain pen onto his desk, “Why do you even have to take this class then? Don’t you inherit Daddy’s business either way, merchling?”

Wylan grimaced.

“That’s even worse than kid. And no, I don’t,”

“What do you mean you don’t?”

“How am I supposed to run a business, Jepser?” he shook his head, “My stepmother’s kid’ll take it,”

There was no spite or jealousy in his tone, and yet there seemed something profoundly melancholic about every word he spoke. Jesper wasn’t sure why being blind meant you couldn’t run a business, so he said so, and Wylan just scoffed. 

“I’m just saying,” said Jesper, “if they think there’s any hope of teaching me how to run a business they must know how to teach you to run one. And anyway, if you hate economics and you’re not even gonna run the business, what are you doing in this class?”

Wylan shrugged.

“It was the only thing that would make my father agree to let me come to the University,” he said, “One business class. Just in case,”

“Just in case of what?”

Wylan either didn’t hear that question or just ignored him, but Jesper was pretty sure it was the latter based on the blush that gathered in his cheeks.

“Why are you here, if you hate it so much?”

“To find my entrepreneurial spirit, of course,”

Wylan raised his eyebrows, his scar shimmering ever so slightly in the sunlight coming through the window.

“And what’s your grand business idea, then?”

Jesper grinned. 

“I’m thinking of providing a service for rich kids who want to make their parents mad,”

“I’d roll my eyes, but that would probably be quite fruitful,”

Jesper barked a laugh.

“And that’s without even knowing how cute I am,” he teased, “Trust me, if you knew what I looked like you’d know I’m gonna charge a pretty steep fee,”

“Is that so?”

“Sure is. What do you think merchling? You could be my first client,”

Wylan did roll his eyes then, and Jesper watched the blue move beneath the slightly cloudy film.

“I think you need to stop calling me merchling,”

“I’m afraid that would come with a price tag attached,”

“Are you flirting, or just broke?”

Jepser laughed again.

“Oh, it’s almost definitely both,”