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kaciebello · 2 months

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Us before you and me

Masterlist Luke Castellan x Hades! reader (implied, fem) Summary: Luke and the readers’ relationship before they became a couple. Luke is an absolute loser when it comes to crushes. Warning: no use of y/n, luke is a total looser author note: English is not my first language so I am sorry for any mistakes beforehand. Proofread by me and me only (Ｔ▽Ｔ) word count: 1,3k

Luke Castellan was 14 when he came to the camp, and he was sad. Not only did he just lose a friend that turned into a tree, but he had to pretend to like his dad.

Now that he was 15, his mind was somewhere else, his friends to be exact. He tried to make friends with everyone. But these two in the Hermes cabin just caught his eye. They argued all the time, it was almost unbearable, and yet they refused to sleep anywhere but next to each other. It has been a few months since they got here, and somehow their banter has extended to him.

So now that he and Chris were watching the Aphrodite girlies, Chris had dragged him out. He was talking about something Luke did not care about. He only started to pay attention when he slapped him. Luke gave him a confused look.

“You're not even looking man,” Cris says.

“Because it's creepy!” Luke argues back. It was creepy, they disguised themself as resting campers next to the Aphrodite cabin. To him, and everyone else, it looked like Cris just discovered what a woman is. Granted, they just turned 15, so he is certain that was the case. Luke couldn't bring himself to care. When he thought about girls only one face came to his mind, and he was not about to confess that to his friend.

“Don't you see them! They look good!” Chri says back.

“I like someone already.” Chris looks at him with a deadpaned look. Absolute silence. Maybe Luke really should not have said anything. According to Chris, Luke could have anyone in the camp. Even crowing him as the heartthrob of the camp. Luke tried to move on as fast as he could from this conversation, however, Chris's attention was sparked, and would not let go of the conversation.

They kept going back and forth and none of them noticed a familiar girl come their way.

“ Stop spying on the aphrodite cabin like they are some prey!” She says, effectively tearing them out of their argument.

“ Prey?? What are we? Animas?” Luke was quick to defend himself. He didn't even want to be here.

“ Not you, you raging virgin,” Chris says and gives him a side-eye. The girl just rolls her eyes.

“I'm not a virgin!” Luke's voice cracked, not something he wanted to happen while defending his honor. His eyes snap to the girl, hoping that she would believe him. But she looked like she wouldn't even believe he had hair on his head. Luke signs defeat. There is no winning in this. He just has to come to terms with the fact that his crush thinks he's a total loser.

–

When Luke turned 16 he realized he wanted to look ripped. And he wanted to get girls, well a specific one but he will not say that aloud. He will tell you he just wants to be a better hero with glory and all that. However Luke was 16, and he had no better idea than to practice in front of his crush.

He was nervous. Sweating. He couldn't tell if it was from the sword fighting or her. She was just sitting down and looking at him. His heart was beating way too fast for his liking. So he was very glad when his opponent called it quits and he could rest.

He went and sat down next to the girl. She smiled and handed him a towel and cold water. He rolled his sleeves up his shoulders to feel some of the cold air. The girl had to do a double-take at him. He could see her in the corner of his eye looking at him. He flexed his arms just a little.

“ Exposing your biceps like that? What a slut.” She says. His eyes widen for a second before he composes himself. He turns to her with a smirk on his face.

“ You like that don't you.” That stopped her in the tracks. He could practically see the clogs turn in her head.

“Maybe I do.” She says, her eyes fixated on his arms. Luke went red and looked away. He could feel her arm on him as she studied his mussels. He let her arm wander, they were seemingly in their world. Her arms slip to his chest. He looked down and then back to her.

“ I know my pecs are big but can you stop objectifying me?” The girl stopped in her tracks and looked him dead in the eyes.

“Nah.” With that, she just continued to feel him up. He just let her.

—

Luke was 17 when one of his closest friends was claimed by Hades and had to move out of the cabin into a small room above the medical storage unit. He helped her move the stuff, not that she had much but still. When he walked into the room he saw her standing with Chris, who upon seeing him gave him a smirk. Luke sat the bag down and turned around to see Crish walking out giving him a wink.

Luke turned to the girl with a confused look. She just shrugged and thanked him for bringing the bag. He could feel the tension in the air. Luke looked around the room. It wasn't big, but it was something, and first and foremost it was private. Not something he could say about his bed. He looked at the girl again. She was not sporting a black camp shirt instead of an orange one. Fitting for a Hades kid.

When his eyes got to her face his heart jumped to her throat for a bit. She was looking at him with a sheepish smile.

“So Chris said-” Right then and there he knew. He knew his friend had said something he shouldn't.

“Don't believe Chris !” He yelped and grabbed her hand. Silently he begged her to forget whatever the boy told her. She raised her eyebrows at him.

“ So you don't get a major ‘love boner’ every time you see me?” A whine leaves Luke's lips.

“Why did he have to put it like that.” He says his voice high-pitched. The girl just let out a laugh.

—

Luke was 18 when he confessed. He was 18 when she confessed back. And he was 18 when he kissed his crush of 4 years. He was 18 now lying in the Hermes cabin looking at the ceiling dreamingly. He could only remember what her hands and lips felt on him. The other 3 boys were taking none of that.

“He's a mess. Like mess mess.” Says Connor looking at his counsellor with a weird look, before turning to his brother who wore a similar expression.

“ Mess in distress but still the best dressed?” Answered Travis. He has been cursed by one of the Apollo kids to say things that rhyme but not really. It's been going on for a week now with no sign of going away.

“He's definitely not best dressed, I can tell you that.” Says Chris sitting at the foot of Luke's bed cleaning his nails.

Lukes wasn't paying them attention. He finally achieved what he wanted since 15. He could handle the teasing if it meant he could sneak into her room after calling lights out. One of the twins poked him in the ribs but he just swatted them away.

He could hear them say he was gone, but the only thing he could think about was his girlfriend.

It was a year later when he was 19 and risked everything.

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ohbabydollie · 9 days

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currently imagining a jaded, deadpan lit teacher!schlatt. super intelligent, incredible teacher that all his students adore and love to learn from, but they all swear to god they’ve never seen him smile once

then comes along absolute ray of sunshine teacher!y/n, probably teaching some kind of fine art, and it is just like a moth to a flame. he cannot stay away from you!

you meet for the first time in the teacher’s lounge and he’s a little taken aback, he doesn’t know what it is about you but something makes his little brain flip a switch and it’s all sunshine and rainbows. not much longer after that, you start becoming friends, sharing cool little things about your interests or the subjects you teach.

he does a pretty good job of hiding these feelings from the kids, just because he wants to keep that side of him private from his students, but one day he slips up. you sneak in during a class of his during your free period to return a book he recommended to you. when you walked out, he had no idea that he was smiling but apparently the students noticed.

“mr. schlatt, were you just smiling?”

“finish your essay.”

also am i allowed to be 🥥 anon

ofc, welcome 🥥 anon

before you came along schlatt was the most obviously exhausted and stressed teacher, but his students loved him.

from stapling mcdonald’s job applications on failed tests to talking about his cats. his students very clearly loved him and adored him, but he just seemed so sad in a way, especially when one of them got him to talk about his dating life.

single, with multiple failed dates under his belt

then you transferred to the school after the last art teacher had quit.

he had heard about you from his students, the new young single art teacher making sure to emphasize on the single part, but he always told them to focus on getting their assignment done over focusing on the teachers dating lives.

he really didn’t care for you, probably would be done in a few weeks if you couldn’t handle how rowdy and rough some of these kids could be. he gave you a month at best.

then you came into the teacher’s lounge getting snack after snack out of the vending machine as he watched in silence. not out of judgement, but he was just mesmerized completely

the concentration on your face as you punched in number after number watching the snacks fall before grabbing a cardboard box to place it all in was all so adorable to him, he didn’t even realize he had been staring until you looked over at him with a big smile.

“hi, i don’t believe we’ve met!” you chirp, “i’m y/n the new art teacher” you say extending out a hand for him to shake. he politely takes it, giving you a semi-awkward smile

“i’m jay, i teach english in b103” he says feeling himself turn red

“oh wow! i’m only down the hall from you, my room is c102” you say parting from the hand shake and picking up your box “well i’ll see you around” you say pushing the door open

and just like that you were gone as soon as you came

and schlatt had a new goal in mind, you

the next period he had came back better than ever. his normally deadpan and tired voice had more excitement and life to it and his students noticed for sure, waiting until the lesson was over to pry into him, but they all got the same response.

“jus added a shot of expresó into my coffee this mornin” he says starting to grade the assignments from his last class.

they had assumed that was it, nothing more to it until the next week where he seemed to be radiating with joy, when they pried into him again all he said was, “jus had some coffee from my favorite spot this mornin, nothin else”

he hadn’t mentioned it was with you.

over the next few months they noticed more and more change, fixing his hair more often, wearing his nicer clothes and whatever he could to look better.

as a student asked “so who’s the lucky lady?”

you had walked in holding a book, causing the room to fall silent. you practically floated to his desk as everyone watched you.

“hey, thanks for letting me borrow your copy, it was really good” you say handing him the book

“oh..it’s no problem, anytime” he says softly as you smile

“ ‘kay, well i’ll see you later, oh and your glasses are a little smudged” you say heading to leave as he watches in awe.

once you’re out, he’s taking off his glasses, smiling to himself with a small chuckle as he cleans them off, basking in the moment, completely forgetting his students were there until someone speaks up.

“mr. schlatt, are you smiling?” he asks teasingly before schlatt immediately drops the smile and goes deadpan again

“finish your assignment before i fail you”

#schlatt x reader #jschlatt x reader #jschlatt x you #jschlatt x y/n #schlatt x y/n #schlatt x you #jschlatt fluff #schlatt fluff #🥥 anon

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sansaorgana · 8 months

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— A BETTER PERSON

PAIRING — Erik Lehnsherr x fem!Mutant!Reader

SUMMARY — Erik struggles with accepting the fact that his son is not a mutant.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — Hi, it's me again 😂 This fic can be read as a part two of THIS FIC but doesn't have to be at all. It contains some fighting between Erik and Reader but I promise it all ends well! 💗 Reader’s mutation is NOT specified (as much as it was possible).

WORD COUNT — 3,930

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

A BETTER PERSON

“No,” Erik stood up and clenched his fists to stop himself from using his mutation powers against Charles. “I do not agree,” he stated more calmly now.

“Anybody else?” Charles looked past him at the other teachers sitting inside his office.

No one else said anything, though.

“I’m sorry, Erik, you’ve lost,” Charles smirked at him.

“Fine then,” your husband clenched his jaw. “If you want to let the non-mutant children in this school, I’m leaving. I won’t teach humans.”

“Don’t be too dramatic, Erik,” you stood up as well and put your hand on his shoulder. “We’re building something special here and you know it…”

“Yes, we are,” he snapped at you and pushed your hand away, “but he wants to ruin it,” he pointed at Charles. “This place is a safe space for the mutants. Humans have always been a threat.”

“Well, obviously, the ones who hate mutants won’t be welcome here,” Charles rolled his eyes. “Your wife is right, Erik. You’re overreacting.”

“Oh, really?” Erik tilted his head. “Because I’m sure you’re going to invite everyone here soon. People who are against us so they can know us better and realize we are the same. People who admire us so they can look at us from a closer angle. I am not an animal in the zoo, Xavier, and I certainly am not a lab rat. Never again.”

“Erik, it’s just only about avoiding segregation,” you sighed. “Do you really have to make a scene? We don’t even know yet if we’re going to get permission from the government… It’s just an idea.”

“I am not going to teach non-mutants. End of discussion. They’re not welcome here,” he drawled out and that was when you heard a noise behind the door. An echo of the familiar legs running away as quickly as possible down the corridor.

“Alex…”, you whispered and laid your eyes on Erik to give him a dirty look. “I hope you’re proud of yourself,” you snarled at him before running out of Charles’ office.

Your son was fast but he wasn’t extraordinarily fast and he was a child after all, so you caught him pretty fast. In fact, there was nothing extraordinary about him and he was already ten years old, which could only mean one thing that your husband refused to ever address. For Erik, Alex was just a late bloomer but he was the only person in the whole school who was thinking that.

Because the truth was, Xavier’s School already had a non-mutant student. And it was Erik Lehnsherr’s flesh and blood.

“Alex,” you grabbed your son’s shoulder and turned him around. His eyes were full of tears and his hands were shaking. It was breaking your heart to see him like that. “Alex, what were you doing there? It was a meeting for the teachers.”

“I wanted to f-find you,” he sniffled and rubbed his eyes. “Edie did it again…” he sobbed.

Edie was your second child, named after Erik’s mother. She was six years old and her mutant powers had recently started to show. One of her favourite activities was to tease her older brother. She couldn’t understand why he was always so upset instead of teasing her back. She inherited much more from her father than just his mutation.

“What did she do?” You sighed and fixed his ruffled hair.

“Locked me in my room,” he looked down, ashamed of the fact that he had been bullied by a little girl. “I couldn’t open it, she melted the lock.”

You sighed and pressed his head to your chest. Edie’s pranks were starting to get too cruel these days.

“I will talk to her,” you promised him and kissed the top of his head. “Now, about what your father said…” you brought up the topic and Alex burst into tears once again, pressing his face even deeper into the material of your sweater. “He didn’t mean you, love,” you didn’t know what else to say.

“Of course I didn’t,” Erik’s voice made you both turn around. He looked a bit uneasy and he was keeping a distance from you two. “Because you’re a mutant, Alex. You just need more time to figure it out,” your husband added.

“No, I am not!” Alex exclaimed dramatically and ran away again but this time you didn’t chase him. Instead, you approached your husband angrily.

“That was not what he needed to hear,” you drawled out. “What he needs to hear is that you love him nevertheless,” you explained and then you took a step back and furrowed your brow while staring deep into Erik’s bright eyes. He was staring back at you without a word. “Unless you… don’t,” you whispered before turning around and leaving him alone in the middle of the corridor.

You didn’t look for Alex after that. You decided to give him some time to cry alone first and instead of that you focused on giving Edie a lecture. One of many and probably not the last one. You loved her, of course, just like you loved her father. But sometimes you wished she was… less like him. One Erik was enough to handle.

Speaking of him, he was avoiding you for the rest of the day and he seemed to be offended because he didn’t even want to talk to you. When you bumped into him, he didn’t say “sorry” or anything, he just walked on by.

During supper he sat next to you as usual but he kept talking to Raven sitting by his other side. You were playing with your food and watching Edie from the corner of your eye. She seemed to be very giddy and joyful. Too much for a girl who had been scolded by her mother for bullying her brother. She seemed to brag to one of the boys about what she had done earlier. You stopped looking at her and started to search for your son amongst the children by the long table.

“Where is Alex?” You asked out loud after realizing that he wasn’t there.

“Probably still crying in his room,” Edie shrugged her arms and you stood up loudly, making everyone wince at the sound of the squeaking chair.

“(Y/N), let him be,” Erik laid his eyes on you for the first time since morning. “Boys process such things differently.”

“No, they don’t,” you had to fight the urge to slap his face. How could he not even be worried? How could he allow Edie to be so insolent? “Now, if you excuse me, I need to find my son,” you informed everyone and walked out of the dining room to hurry upstairs.

Alex was a son of two teachers so he had the privilege of having his own room next to yours. Not so long ago he had been sharing it with Edie but since she had started to show off her powers they had to be separated. You knocked upon the door and waited for an answer but there was none.

“Alex, baby, open the door, please. It’s me, mummy,” you whispered but there was still no answer. “I’m walking inside, honey,” you pushed the door open.

The room was dark. You put the light on only to find the room empty and your heart skipped a beat at the realization that you had absolutely no idea where your son was.

Desperately, to be absolutely sure, you looked under the bed and inside the closet but he obviously wasn’t there. So you ran back downstairs, feeling like your heart would jump out of your chest any given moment. Your head felt heavy and your ears were ringing.

“He’s not in his room,” you announced after opening the door leading to the dining room with shaky hands. Everyone went silent and looked at you. Seeing your terrified face and trembling arms, they began to worry as well. Erik stood up from the table and approached you slowly.

“He… He’s not… He’s not there, Erik,” you struggled to catch your breath out of growing anxiety as you held onto his sleeve.

“Maybe he’s hiding in the garden,” he tried to calm you down but he began to look worried as well. “I’ll look for him.”

“I will help you,” Hank left the table, too.

“And me,” Raven joined them.

“Can we help as well?” One of the students asked.

“You can stay here and finish your meal,” Charles told him. “Unless any of you has any idea where Alex can be?” he asked but there was a dead silence from all the kids. “Alright then, you stay here. We are going to look for him. I’m sure he’s nearby,” he approached you and took your hand in his. “(Y/N), come with me,” he encouraged you and you nodded before following him outside. You felt like you were inside a bad dream.

“He has never done anything like that… He… He would always tell me everything…” you stuttered out. “He’s a clingy child… With me at least… That’s so unlike him to just… To just make me worry like that.”

“I’m sure Erik will find him,” Charles tried to calm you down and you both went outside where the rest of the adults had been looking for your son.

You could hear their voices calling out Alex’s name but you were too petrified to move and help them. You felt helpless. Ten minutes passed and there was apparently no sign of him still being around the mansion.

“He’s not here,” Hank walked up to you and Charles and shook his head. Erik followed him, paler than ever.

“When was the last time you saw Alex?” Your husband asked you.

“The same time you did,” you snapped at him. “I gave him some time after what you had said to him and it was my mistake. I should have gone after him and left that brat Edie to you.”

“Hey, hey,” Erik took a step back and put his arms in the air like he was giving up, “don’t take it out on me and certainly not on our daughter. Charles,” he looked down at his friend, “you can find Alex, right? You shouldn’t have a problem with that.”

“Well…” Charles sighed and hesitated for a moment, “I’m a telepath but it’s easier to connect with other mutants.”

“Excellent then,” Erik nodded.

“I’m going to try but considering the fact Alex is not a mutant…” Charles began again, less delicately this time.

“He is,” Erik protested, “come on, Xavier, you know that he is. We’ve talked about it, you were supposed to help him to find out what his mutation was. Just because you haven’t found it yet…”

“Wait, what?!” You interrupted him with a scream. It was the first time you had ever heard of it.

“I tried but… Erik, there is really nothing there…” Charles explained but you didn’t let him finish. You approached your husband and pushed him away.

“Hey!” He exclaimed.

“Stay away!” You yelled. “It’s all your fault, stay away!”

“(Y/N), calm down. Charles needs to focus if you want him to find Alex,” Hank tried to put his arm around you but you pushed him away as well. Your anger and worry made your powers grow stronger and stronger with every minute.

“You’re so full of shit, Erik,” you could feel your whole body melting under the power of your own mutation. Your every nerve and every muscle was filled with anger. You could kill him with a snap of your fingers if you wanted to. “So, your son is a human. In a place like this, though, he is the outsider. He is the one needing protection here. And instead of doing what a father should do, you were pushing him, behind my back, arranging secret sessions with Charles… You… Can’t you see that what you’re doing isn’t far from what has been done to you?” you asked while walking slowly towards him. Those were rare moments to see Erik Lehnsherr genuinely scared of anyone but it was one of them. “He’s not a lab rat or a weapon. He’s a person. And all that boy has ever wanted was for you to love him. You have no idea how many times he’s been asking me about it. Does dad love me? And I have never been brave enough to tell him to ask you instead. Because I was scared of your answer. But now I know it,” you finished with your face only a few inches away from his.

“No, you don’t. You think you do but you don’t,” Erik whispered and swallowed thickly. He wasn’t even trying to defend himself, it was like he had known, deep down, that he deserved it. “You must be insane if you think I don’t love him,” his words were almost inaudible at this point; only for your ears to hear.

“Then act like it,” you drawled out.

“Mrs. Lehnsherr!” One of the children’s voices made you turn around. It was the boy Edie had been talking to earlier. You had noticed a few times that he quite liked to pick on your son as well whenever there was such an opportunity.

“What do you want?” You asked him rudely.

“I’m sorry I haven’t told you earlier…” he started as his voice broke. He looked scared and worried. “I know where Alex went… I saw him… I’m sorry, I should have said…” he started crying and you approached him quickly. “I’m so sorry…” he kept repeating.

“Stop apologizing and tell me where he is,” you grabbed him by his shoulders.

“(Y/N),” Charles raised his hand. He didn’t want you to be too rough with the students but you didn’t care. You wanted your son to be safe and back at home.

“I asked him where he was going… He told me he was running away to New York to get adopted by... normal people. I think he took the bus or something,” the boy sniffled.

“When was it?” You asked.

“Not long before supper.”

“He must be on the station or on that bus then,” you heard Erik’s voice. “I’m going,” he added and ran to the hangar to get one of the cars.

You wanted to stop him. To tell him that you should be there, too. But you were so heartbroken after what that student had told you that you couldn’t say a word. You couldn’t believe that your son wanted to be adopted by a different… normal family.

“Let’s go back inside,” you loosened the grip on the boy’s shoulders. “Thank you for telling me. You’ve done the right thing,” you added with a broken smile.

It was almost two in the morning and everyone was asleep except for you and Charles. You were in the living room, waiting for Erik’s return. Edie was also there, she refused to go to her bedroom before seeing Alex again but she fell asleep with her head on your lap around eleven. You were playing with her hair to keep your hands busy.

Apparently it had been her. She had noticed the other student’s odd behaviour and it had been her threatening him to tell you everything. She had been crying and shaking in your arms and blaming herself. But you weren’t angry with her anymore. She was only six years old and putting a blame on her would be unfair. It would only make her feel even worse. It had been Erik who should have known better. Not her.

“They’re back,” Charles whispered after hearing a car on the driveway.

“Both of them?” You asked, worriedly.

“Yes,” he closed his eyes for a moment, “I can sense them both.”

You sighed with relief and gently moved Edie’s head away from your lap to put it on the sofa’s cushion. Then you stood up and walked out to see Erik and Alex entering the mansion.

When you saw them, you froze for a moment because Alex was being carried by Erik in his arms.

“He’s asleep,” your husband informed you immediately. “He fell asleep on our way here,” Erik explained. “He’s fine,” he added and you nodded.

“You couldn’t just wait at the next bus stop, right?” Charles’ voice interrupted you from behind. He was looking at Erik with a smirk. He had just been looking through his memories to find out what had exactly happened. “You just had to dramatically stop the bus in the middle of the road?”

“Yes, in fact, I had to,” Erik drawled out at his friend, “because my son was in there.”

“Alex!” Edie ran up to you. Her hair was ruffled and her eyes were squinted – she was barely awake – but she had a big smile on her face. Her calling woke Alex up and he moved in Erik’s arms before yawning and looking down at his sister. “Alex!” She called once again and extended her hands towards him. Erik put the boy on the ground so his sister could give him a hug. “I’m sorry I locked you in your room!” She cried happy tears and squeezed her brother tighter.

“It’s okay…” Alex hugged her back.

“I will never do it again!” Edie squealed.

“Thanks…”

“And you?” You crossed your arms and looked at your son.

“I will never do it again either. I’m sorry, mum…” He avoided your eyes, ashamed and scared. You crouched down and hugged him as well to place a kiss on his forehead.

“I’m glad Alex is safe. I’ll leave you now,” Charles nodded his head and went away quietly.

“Where did you even get the money from? For the ticket?” You asked your son.

“From dad’s wallet…” Alex looked down but you laughed instead of scolding him.

“Guess how much he’s taken,” Erik smiled for the first time in hours and you shook your head. “A hundred.”

“A hundred?!” You let out a laugh and Edie giggled. “Alex, how much do you think a ticket to New York costs?”

“I didn’t know how much it would be! I was worried it wouldn’t be enough!” Alex explained and you burst into happy tears of joy and relief to have him back. You kissed his forehead again.

“What did you do with the change?”

“I bought some comic books at the station,” he pointed at his small backpack. “And a bag of chips in case I get hungry.”

“Priorities,” Erik hummed.

“It’s time to go to bed now,” you announced when the clock struck two. “We will talk about it tomorrow before breakfast,” you stood up and Alex nodded. You took him by his hand to take him to his bedroom. Erik picked little Edie up off the ground to carry her upstairs as well. She was so sleepy she looked like she’d fall asleep standing.

When both children were already in their beds, you went to your own bedroom in silence.

“What did you tell him?” You asked when the door closed behind Erik and you were the only awake people in the whole mansion at that hour.

“Well, at first everyone was scared of me, of course…” He started.

“Yeah, no kidding,” you rolled your eyes.

“I told the bus driver my son had run away from home and that he must be there. The guy pointed his finger at Alex immediately. Not many ten year olds travel on their own. I just took him to the car,” Erik explained and sat down on the bed to run his fingers through his hair. He was exhausted.

“So… you didn’t talk to him? You haven’t told him anything?” You were shocked.

“What was I supposed to…? Listen, I was fuming! He stole my money and ran away and he’s only ten! Imagine what he’s gonna be like in five years! Absolute nightmare! I was worried sick and I was angry, so I decided it would be for the best if I shut my mouth. I have a tendency of making everything worse when I speak,” he lowered his voice in the end and put his face in the palms of his hands.

“I was too harsh to you earlier,” you sat next to him and gently took his hands in yours to move them away from his face, “I’m sorry,” you apologized. “I was worried.”

“No, you were right,” Erik sighed and looked up to meet your gaze. “I was lying to myself and pushing him. It’s… I didn’t expect to have a human son. We are both powerful mutants, it shouldn’t have happened… Now all my beliefs and opinions and… And everything… It is being questioned. And it makes me feel uneasy,” he confessed but not without the visible struggle.

“Oh, Erik…” you sighed and cupped his face to caress his cheeks with your thumbs. “Perhaps boys really do process such things differently,” you chuckled.

“I’ve maimed and killed for the idea of mutants’ supremacy. If I abandon it now… What would that make me? A hypocrite. A traitor to the cause,” he clenched his jaw as a tear rolled down his cheek.

“It would make you a good father, Erik,” you wiped that tear with your thumb, “and that’s all that should matter. Also, people change. It’s a natural process. You’ve changed once already, after being hurt by Schmidt. Because before that you hadn’t been like this either,” you reminded him and a short silence occurred between you two.

“Why do you always have to be right?” he sighed and you laughed softly before leaning in to place a kiss on his forehead.

When you went to Alex’s room in the morning, he was still asleep, which was not surprising after a night like that. You sat on the edge of his bed to caress your son’s hair and Erik opened his backpack to look at the comic books your son had bought.

“They’re about superheroes,” he noticed.

“Aren’t they all?” You asked.

“Mum…?” Alex opened his eyes slowly and covered his mouth to yawn before rubbing his eyes.

“Hey, sleepy head,” you greeted him softly. “How are you?”

“I’m good,” he sat up and extended his hands to give you a hug. You leaned in to put your arms around him and squeeze him tight.

“Your dad has something to tell you,” you said and moved back. Erik cleared his throat and sat next to you as Alex watched carefully while making big eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Erik started with an apology, which was quite unusual for him. “I’m sorry I made an impression that…” he hesitated. “No, it wasn’t making an impression. No more excuses. I’m sorry for pushing you into being a mutant. You are…” he sighed. “You are perfect the way you are because you are my son,” he finished. He had never expected to give such a talk to a non-mutant.

You felt tears forming in your eyes at his words and you squeezed Erik’s cold hand to give him more courage.

“But… I don’t have any cool superpowers,” Alex whined. “I wish I had.”

“Your superpower is being yourself and that’s enough,” Erik assured him. “And I’m sorry I haven’t seen it earlier. Even though you can’t defend yourself as well as me or your mum or your sister, I will never let anything bad happen to you,” he leaned in to give Alex a hug and pressed his son’s head to his chest. “You’re making me a better person and I was scared of that but I am not anymore. I love you.”

MASTERLIST

#erik lehnsherr x reader #lilysfiction #magneto x reader

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nathanielzalexandria · 1 year

Text

I love all the headcanons of "Steve is not dumb he's..." Hard of hearing, has poor eyesight, learning disability or his primary language is not English. I particularly enjoyed @dwobbitfromtheshire 's recent headcanon that he's hiding it because his father hates feeling inferior and only Eddie realizes that he is not dumb. But I would like to throw my own hat in the ring.

Steve is not dumb. Actually, he's quite smart and did quite well in school (because his parents would not expect anything less). He just wasn't into nerd culture and everyone just placed their stereotypes and rumours of him being a pretty and privileged rich jock who bought his way out of school but couldn't buy his way into college. Nevermind that he was in the top 10 students of his year and for most of his classes if not topping them and if not he wasn't failing the rest other than one or two science/math-based (rumours say the school forged those marks so that Steve could continue sports) and had a 3.6 GPA. It wasn't enough to get into his Dad's alma mater so his dad dismissed any of the other schools he got accepted into.

He does not try to hide his intelligence from Nancy or the Party, but Nancy had bought into the "Steve is simple-minded " narrative and the like before they got together and failed to realize that they are both in the same AP classes that were full of seniors and in any group or partnered project he more-than-well pulled his weight and had his own insights. So she spreads the narrative to Mike who spreads it to the rest of the party so by the time the events that befan with Dustin asks him for help with his "dog" and developed into concussed in the back of a car while a preteen drove his car, the kids have also bought into parts of the narrative. It doesn't help that he really isn't into the stereotypical nerdy stuff

Even his best friend Robin believed the lie until she worked with him and then got tortured with him by Russians. She eventually realises that he's way smarter in a practical sense than people give him credit for (he did raise himself since he was 11 or so) but does not think of it as stretching into the academic side of his life. She has not stopped calling him "dingus" though.

Eddie on the other hand knows better, which is why when a specific exam was coming up he turned to Steve.

He barged into the Harrington home a day when tye entire party was their.

"Stevie, you either have to tutor me or lend me your notes for this class. I am not failing this class and increasing the possibility of another year at fucking Hawkins."

Mike and Dustin burst out laughing at that before Steve can answer.

"I know you're e bad at that subject, but I didn't realise you were desperate enough to use Steve's notes," Dustin says with that condescending tone that means it should be obvious to Eddie.

Mike snorts at that derisively, "If he even has notes."

"Maybe," Lucas said diplomatically, "there are better options than using Steve's notes?"

Nancy steps up next offering some of her notes and flashcards since she took the class last year/is taking the class, "It's not my strongest subject but if we do a study group I'm sure you won't fail the class."

Eddie stares at the group with growing bewilderment as they agree that Nancy is the best choice while implying that Steve was not. Actually, they were acting as though he was dumb for even asking Steve, which made no sense to him.

Eddie turned his eyes to Steve. His posture by the kitchen island was much more different than when Eddie burst in. He had subtly curled into himself as if to make himself smaller, shoulders tense and a resignation on his face as if he's been through this conversation so many times before.

It was almost as if...

"You guys think that Steve is dumb, don't you?"

There was the type of silence that only comes when the quiet part is said outloud.

"No we don't think Steve's dumb," Robin begins and Eddie can hear the 'but' before she even said it, "But you know he wasn't good at the school part of school."

She continued to ramble on from there but Eddie did not hear any of it. He was too busy reevaluating the group he was with and rechecking old memories and facts to see if there was any inkling of truth to this strange idea that even the older teens should know isn't true.

It took him a moment to find the answer, and when he did he could not stop the derisive laugh that burst out and interrupted Robin's ramble.

"You guys fucking bought into the rumours, didn't you? I expect that from the kids maybe even Johnathan, maybe even Robin because of you became friends after he left school, but not from you, Nancy."

Nancy had that look on her face that she got when she was ready to argue but Eddie steamrolled over it.

"Jesus H Christ! Weren't y'all together for a whole fucking year? How do you not know that he was at the top of his year when you were together? Unless you dismissed that in favour of believing the rumours that his parents paid for his grades and the school wanted to make sure he kept on playing sports?"

He paused for a second waiting for someone to contradict him, but the look on Nancy's face was one of scrambling to defend herself. He sighed at that; she still wasn't getting it and it a sweeping look at the others proved they were lost too.

"Even if they paid off the school he would not have been in the top ten of his year, he would be like Carver and Hagan whose parents paid and their grades were just good enough to get into a decent college without too many questions. And they would not have kept on giving him high grades after he stopped doing any kind of sport in his last 2 years at that dump. Hell if Hargrove wasn't such a fucking beast at sports he would have been told he would have to repeat his senior year with me."

"It's okay Eddie; leave it go." He turned a fake sunny smile with his eyes tightly shut towards Eddie as if to pacify him.

Eddie turned to Steve who had yet to say anything throughout Eddie's diatribe up until that moment. He just continued to robotically make dinner for the party as though nothing was wrong, as though the hurt dripping off him didn't matter.

"I'm not letting this go! They had classes with you, some of which I'm pretty fucking sure were AP classes. If I had the attendance needed I would have graduated last year because of you, Stevie. So excuse me if I'm a bit annoyed that our friends are so blinded by a rumour that they can't fucking see your Salutatorian medal. Hanging. Right. There!"

All eyes except Eddie and Steve's turned in the direction that Eddie pointed at.

And there on the wall, was a framed silver medal with the word "Salutatorian" emblazoned on it. The party immediately burst into chaos amongst each other.

"Now, pretty boy, are you gonna tutor me or what?"

Or it goes something like that, I'm not sure.

#dustin immediately tries to bring up D&D and immediately gets shut down #later they collectively lose their shit when they find out he got into a college #pre steddie #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson

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harfanfare · 4 months

Note

If that's okay could i request it for Epel?

How to win the heart of Epel Felmier?

a/n: Thank you for requesting~~ Dear Readers, while I am not a native English speaker, I wrote this ff in the English-pronounciation (?) mindset that “Epel” and “Apple” sound very similar. If it’s not all that similar, may Reader be too obsessed with apples to have that selective hearing when it comes to Epel’s name or let’s blame it on the Harveston’s dialect, haha

Be a zealous apple lover.

You envy this boy’s name.

“Apple”? What a majestic word to be named after. The first time you’ve heard a woman calling someone like that, you remember stilling in place and whooping your head at a ten-year-old boy who yelled that he was coming.

And he… doesn’t look like an apple. Maybe you weren’t expecting a walking apple, nor a boy with red hair dressed in all browns, carrying a big basket of apples (and of course, eating one in the other hand) like a character created for a show whose audience is a tad younger than you, but none of the apples you know turn purple.

Never have you imagined someone with such a beautiful name would move so wobbly in snow, the sledge he dragged behind definitely too heavy.

The realization of how unfitting this name was makes you lose a grip on the basket of fabric you got from one of your new neighbours. Well, everyone here is “new” if you just came into this little village just three days ago.

That boy notices you. He must have heard the news because a flash of recognition paints itself on his face. You didn’t return a shy smile at the staring, even if you wanted to. You remember your cheeks prickling from the freezing wind when you bolted home as the apple boy looked like he wanted to say something.

“He doesn’t look like an apple,” you argue with your mother that night, as she kisses your temple goodnight.

“Maybe not. But I would have loved you two to be friends…” Your mother stops in her words as you roll your eyes at her and pout with all your might. She suppresses a laugh that you would take to your heart. “…But, maybe I should be glad he doesn’t resemble an apple at all? You would have fallen head over heels in love with him if he did.”

Yeah, your mother doesn’t need to look so happy as you grew agitated.

“I wouldn’t!” You protest loudly and bury yourself deeper into bed sheets even if your face grows hotter. Maybe of the embarrassment, maybe of the fury, but surely not because of the boy. “I would never fall in love with a boy like him. And I don’t want you to talk about this to anyone!”

You remember your mother’s eyes twinkling with utter amusement. “Yes, yes, all right.”

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

2. Challenge Apple to a sled race.

Maybe it’s the fault of far too many action films being aired on TV, yet the idea of being able to win anything a fight was stuck in your head.

Some limited part of your brain thought that, hm, Apple might just give up his name to you if you won in this town’s most famous activity: the Harveston’s Sled Race. It seemed only appropriate for you to pick something the boy must know, even if you had only got your first sledge barely two weeks ago.

“Ya… want my name?” Apple blinks as you grow irate when you repeat your offer once again. You remember rolling your eyes ostentatiously at him, and Apple huffing loudly at you. “What does it even mean, duh?”

He crosses his arms and glared at you. He has the advantage of being just a little bit taller than you, but thankfully, his The-Great-Seven-Better-Bless-Her grandmother never ceases to dress him in fluffy, puffy clothes, always in pastel colours; the cute pompom on top of his beanie and shawl in the adorable pink shade made him much less imposing.

“Whoever wins in this sledge race will be called Apple,” you repeat. Apple squints his eyes at you. “I like this name so much, you have no idea. Please give it up to me.”

“Oh.”

You have no idea why his face slowly turned red. If you knew better, you would have used this opportunity to tease him, but little you didn’t want to mock a newly met boy, even if you just threw down a gauntlet for his name.

“It’s a normal name….” He mutters, and before you can protest, he draws his eyes to you, somehow redeeming you speechless. “…But I’ll challenge you if that’s what you wanna do.”

Huh. You weren’t expecting him to agree so easily.

…Nor were you expecting him to glide on the snow with his sledge. He looked frail enough to not care about things like rides and thought that it would give you the advantage. It did not. Apple flew or used magic, or illusions because he rode so fast the snow beneath him barely left a trace.

That was some cool skill, even if you hated how awed you were.

It seems like you challenged the wrong boy because this one wins with ease.

“Sorry,” he says with flushed cheeks, and his deep breaths create little warm clouds in freezing air. He lays on the snow, and his fringe sticks to his forehead. He has won, and it was a tough victory yet a well-earned one. “I will still be the only Epel in this town.” He shifts his gaze on you. “So. What’s your name?”

Well, he is a (treacherous) winner. You give your name to him.

He smiles slightly, he repeats it slowly and goes quiet. You look over to see him open his eyes from reverie and bright lights dance in his eyes.

“It’s nice. I think it suits you well.”

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

3. Have some baking skills.

“Epel, dear. We’ll be having our little neighbour helping us this year’s festival, so please show how responsible can you be and teach [Name] how to prepare apples for the pies.”

Ugh. If only Grandma Marja wasn’t so kind, you would have been protesting more.

Apple looks at you and you frown slightly as he sighs at your sight.

“You again?”

And because Grandma Marja already left, you feel free to announce your displeasure with the situation as well. Sadly, there are no other kids your age in this village, so you are probably bound to accompany him for the rest of your whole life here as he’s your only peer.

“Unfortunately.”

Apple hands you an apron, before ordering you to wash your hands. Because the kitchen island is too occupied with other dishes and too high for any of you without a stool, you take a seat next to a coffee table that was impractically set between the salon and kitchen, leaving just enough space to create a narrow route from one room to another.

“Have you ever baked an apple pie before?” He asks and you shake your head. His brows furrow slightly as he thinks whether you will be a help here at all. “So, it will be a long day…”

He better not write you off before you can even start.

You cross your arms. “Test me first, complain later... if ever.”

“I’m not complaining. But we have a knife and a peeler. Oh, and it hurts if you get cut. You should take it slowly and be careful,” he adds and hops to the other room to grab a basket full of apples. He lays it between you two.

Apple doesn’t let you use a knife.

“I am older than you,” he says and takes an apple from you to cut it into even pieces. You don’t notice the skill he has to make careful cuts precise and clean, as you glare at him.

“Barely.”

The few-month gap in your age isn’t enough to stop you from insisting that you can do more complicated things than just peeling apples. That’s some arduous work, especially when the peeler doesn’t cooperate and the thin fruit’s skin gets stuck between the blades.

So, Apple, who couldn’t contain that last annoyed sigh, finally lends you a knife. He instructs you, but after several times that you tell him you know what are you doing, he hesitantly goes back to his work. You could feel a worried gaze at you nonetheless, and at one time you looked over your shoulder to see him staring at you.

And that’s when the knife slips from your hands.

You don’t scream, but a gasp and a sudden flinch gives you away.

“Aaaand that’s what I was saying,” he immediately drops the apple he was taking care of, and stands next to you, scrutinizing the cut. It’s not bigger than a paper cut, yet it’s a bit deeper and stings as much. You quickly hide your hands from him. “Go take your hand under the cold water. I will get some bandages.”

He gets some. He then orders you—” I am the older one here and I was right before, so I am in charge between us two,” as you were told—to sit on the sofa as he carefully wraps one bandage around your finger. The gesture it’s almost cute from him, but it doesn’t lift your foul mood at all.

“I made more trouble than I’ve helped,” you say quietly. Epel looks at you, a bit surprised.

“You sayin’ that this little cut is making you quit?” And now he has that stupid smile on his lips that makes your blood not boil, but warm up at least five degrees. “Awh, poor thing.”

You get up in a hurry.

“…I didn’t say that.”

“Then don’t give up like that,” he chastises you, but he can’t hide a (still very stupid) smile when you pass him to get to the kitchen counter. “But be more careful from now. No one wants to eat a bloody apple pie.”

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

4. Get into NRC and survive a shock.

Over the years, you’ve become friends, close enough to plan to go to college together, if the opportunity arises. It did.

“Cheers!”

The perfect way to celebrate getting into NRC is with a soft drink, sparkling soda and a big plate of snacks. Although you bought chips for the occasion, your and Apple’s parents prepared a pile of homemade goodies and they couldn’t compare to those store-bought.

Your can clinks against Apple’s and you take a sip.

“It’s not like I ever thought of Night Raven Collage rejecting the best candidates ever,” Apple says with a sigh. Only today you can notice how stiff he was before; although he’d been playing it cool, he was tense all the time. “But that’s one burden off your chest.”

You nod in agreement and look at the acceptance papers once again. When a time will come, carriages with Gates will come for you two… And that’s a thrilling thought.

“This document looks so official,” you say. “What a pretty paper. It looks so elegant.”

Apple empties his can and briefly glances at you.

“Nothin’ special about it…”

And because you want to see the comparison (maybe there are hidden hints where you might be allocated to by the Dark Mirror?), you take his document. The first thing that crosses your mind, is that there is something wrong with his name.

“Wait,” you shriek loudly, and Apple shudders from surprise. He would chastise you for screaming so loud if you didn’t look so worried. “They spelled your name wrong!”

“Huh?” Apple feels a pang of horror, the same you feel when you tap your pockets in search of your phone. As if he found it, once he reads the top of the document again, he relaxes. His lips form into a thin line: he thinks you are pranking him. “No way. Everything is correct.”

“No, look here. Your name, Apple!”

“It’s… Correct.”

“E- P- E- L. And your name is A- P- P- L- E, no?”

“…What?” Epel, not Apple, looks surprised but not as surprised as you. “You thought my name was ‘Apple’ for all those years?!”

You bite your lip to not question it. Is it not? Your cheeks burn from embarrassment, and your heart feels heavy as if you have just betrayed your best friend. It never crossed your mind to have him write down his name, and there wasn’t a reason for him to do so: in this small town there is no school, neither are there the tests you need to sign.

“…I’m sorry.” You stutter, and Epel brushes the crumbs off from his blouse and gets up.

“Goodbye,” he says, making his way towards the door. He doesn’t seem that upset over the whole thing, as much as confused. Tomorrow everything will return to normality, but Epel will have a top-tier teasing material for years. “That’s too many revelations for today.”

“Wait, Epel!”

“Go to ya Apple boy.”

“No!! I said I’m sorry!”

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎

5. Get sorted into any dorm but Pomefiore.

“Stop laughing.”

“I can’t…! Ha…”

You take a big breath to calm yourself down, but once you look up at Epel and his grimace, it’s impossible to not burst out laughing so loud and so breath-taking you drop to the floor. Epel nudges you. You might be in his room, yet he knows if he’ll be too loud, someone will come to shush you two.

And maybe they will punish him, but Epel isn’t familiar with Pomefiore’s customs, so he doesn’t know what to expect.

“How come you got sorted into another dorm, while we are practically the same?” Epel mumbles, lying down on his bed. The sheets are heavy yet comfortable, luxurious like the whole room. It feels like a museum here, where each item is more valuable than your life and you need permission to rearrange the interior.

To Epel, Pomefiore is the worst dorm. He remembers you teasing him about getting sorted to Pomefiore, but neither of you thought it would come true. It’s too stiff, too restrictive and cares too much about appearances. Epel’s heart feels heavy at the thought of the next four years here.

“Maybe Dark Mirror doesn’t sort the dorm judging by the alikeness of two last brain cells but the shape and colour of the soul,” you nudge him back, waking him up from his reverie.

“Or maybe it didn’t get any input of brain cells from you.”

“Well, your desire to be the prettiest boy in the town got to it, so I think it functions well.”

You chuckle at the dead glare he throws you.

Epel finally sighs.

“…I would like to change the dorms.”

“I don't know whether the Dark Mirror accepts complaints,” you tease him. The gloom is abruptly replaced by irritation, and that’s nice. An angry Epel is better than a devastated Epel. “But if you ever want to escape for a while, you are welcome in my room. We can have a sleepover whenever you want.”

“…Thank you.”

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

5.5. Sorted into Pomefiore exception.

“You ain’t elegant at all, though.”

“It seems like my elegance bleaks in comparison to yours, pretty boy.”

“You are blind.”

Epel tries to push you away, but you sidestep while giggling. He glares at you, and thankfully, his eyes don’t seem that sad. When he returned to his seat after getting sorted to Pomefiore, he looked bewildered, as if he suddenly wasn’t in the NRC he dreamed of but some other, less-dreamlike school.

You remember him blinking back tears, but maybe not from sadness—thankfully, Epel doesn’t pity himself—but melancholy, as if he just lost something he didn’t even have. Maybe also fury and confusion.

“It will be fun to stay here together,” you prompt, and Epel sighs but a trace of a smile appears on his lips. Thank Great Sevens for the little lights that brighten the azure tones in his eyes.

“Guess I’m stuck being your neighbour forever.”

“It can’t be that bad.”

“No?”

“Of course not. You already know how great friend I can be.”

“…I guess you’re right,” he sticks out his tongue. Vil will have a lot of work if he wants to make him a fine gentleman. Well. You will take any version of Epel, even the pettiest and most teasing one, so it’s Vil’s burden to bear. “Kind of.”

You pout at him, but a quiet smile breaks your coolness. “So petty.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

6. Listen to your manly man complain about Vil.

After several weeks in NRC, you could tell Epel still hasn’t gotten used to Pomefiore, and especially its leader.

“I can’t handle him pointing out each… well, everything!” He hides his face in his hands and sluggishly rubs his eyes; he looks tired enough even if Pomefiore must have those eight hours of sleep every night mandatory. “He would find wrongdoings in the way I breathe.”

“I would too. You don’t breathe as much through your nose as you think you do. That’s so very unhealthy, Epel. Your skin will be ruined in the next week of running.”

Epel throws you a warning look as if you had hit the nail with your talk. “Stop or I will strangle you with a pillow in your sleep. I already have Ace on my list.”

You chuckle at a threat, and Epel rolls his eyes. “How dramatic.”

“I have enough drama in my life,” he continues, and you can feel from his tone that he either suppresses the sigh. No apathy or fury anymore, though. Pomefiore must be slowly growing on him, and you take it as a good sign. “My two upperclassmen are going to be a death of me. I don’t know how could I end up in Pomefiore. This kind of lifestyle doesn’t suit me.”

“You complain about them a lot, but, in reality, you look up to him, no?” You tease. “Even you can say the beauty he possesses is influential and somewhat powerful.”

“He might look majestically but it doesn’t make him any less annoying. Now, let’s stop talking about him.”

“Why not? I might become Vil Schoenheit’s fan.”

He clasps his hands on your mouth, so you have to fully focus on his glaring.

“You can’t. You are my fan.”

You pout but after he takes his hands off you, a lopsided smile cracks your lips. “I guess you’re right.”

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

7. Argue, duh.

That’s a hobby of you two, although a risky one. It always leaves a weight on your heart, because you cannot not care for Epel. While jokes and sarcasm are never intended to hurt any of you, and you can almost always distance yourself from teasing comments, his every word is precious to you.

“Don’t be a killjoy,” would make you roll your eyes if Epel didn’t look so serious. Your smile falters, and something in your stomach twists. You know this conversation was going to end in an argument even before he glowered at you.

“Hey, don’t say it like that,” you stutter the words, placing a hand on his arm. It would come as a reassuring gesture, yet Epel made an effort to move a seat away, and your arm fell aimlessly, sadly. “I am just worried about our grades. That have. Uh. Dropped marginally.”

You stare at your shoes because listening to your best friend being displeased with you so greatly is heartbreaking.

“We have the whole weekend ahead of us to study,” he argued. “Be serious. You don’t want me to go, because you weren’t invited, isn’t that so?”

You sigh. You’ve never expected to be invited to each of their meetings: they are Epel’s friends, and you have yours.

While you knew Ace and Deuce were delightful company, you always thought Epel would choose you over them, even if you suggested something as unentertaining as studying because you would do the same.

You were wrong, after all. Maybe that’s the difference of willpower between a just-a-friends mindset and having a crush on him. Do you really have a crush on him, though? Or maybe you’ve expected too much from a childhood friendship.

“Well, no. I mean, I would love to be invited, but—”

“We don’t need to hang out together every time we have a spare afternoon,” he said, and while it was a true statement, it hurt. If you weren’t able to somehow steel your nerves, you would know you wouldn’t be able to bear the prickling in your eyes. Epel’s next suggestion comes as a whisper. “Sometimes… We should take a break from each other, ya know? And I need to figure, uh, something out.”

The news shocks you so much, that you don’t notice how he visibly abstains from lifting a hand to his chest.

Well. You always knew you were a hopeless romantic.

“Breaks from each other, huh…”

You take in the phrase in silence. Epel takes this chance as an opportunity to gather his things and pack them.

“…I’ll be leaving. Good luck studying or whatever.”

“…Alright. Have—” fun, you wanted to say, but the door shut and Epel left you alone.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

8. Go through the silent treatment phase.

After a week of awkward conversations, Epel has forgotten about that talk. The pain in your chest dulled and you were growing indifferent as if you were watching a show—your life—that started to bore you, not engaging you at all.

You stared blankly at the screen of your phone.

— today —

Epel: Hey

Epel: are u free todya?? you’ve been so absent last weeks >:((

Epel: Grim and prefect invited us for gaming night

Epel: dont ya DARE do skip it again

— seen: now —

…Yeah. You feel nothing, maybe only a little sad at the memory when you felt so vivid and happy when you got a message from Epel.

“No, sorry, I am busy with studying lol,” you type, and while you know that excuse will wear out in the next few days, for as much as you’ve been using it for the last week to avoid hanging out with Epel, your (ex-?) best friend starts to type something. He will protest and argue and try to convince you, but you don’t want to talk today. “Maybe next time.”

So you turn off your phone, sinking deeper into the pillows on your bed.

You don’t have the energy to confront Epel right now.

And that’s it.

…

You fell into a slumber deep enough to not hear the hesitant-turned-frantic knocking to your room.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

9. Let Epel hear the advice of unreliable gurus of love.

They are really unreliable, look messy, and they judge you. The worst kind of people to go for (love?) advice, but Epel assures himself that he needs honesty, not a pat on his back or a shoulder to cry on. He also is out of other options.

Moreover, he would like to cry nowhere near Ace, who would obviously mock him. Even now it’s hard to have a heart-to-heart conversation when he and Deuce chomp on some type of dessert and some awfully happy music from videogame plays in the back of the room. “So? What did you do?”

“Ace,” Deuce is kind enough to elbow Ace in the stomach when Epel’s stoic expression falters.

His shoulders drop. “No, he… He is kinda right.”

Ace throws a winning smile but moves too far away from Deuce to have him punch him for the cheekiness. “’ Kinda’?”

“…Totally right,” Epel finally admits. “[Name] has been avoiding me and I have no idea what should I do,” He throws his arms on the table, and almost hides his face in the palms of his hands. Instead, he moves away the strands of his unruly hair. “Ugh. Why I am even asking you guys to help me? You’re even worse at this kind of thing.”

“Speak for yourself. And Deuce,” Ace cuts him off. And before Deuce can do anything else than glare at him, Ace shifts closer to Epel and throws an arm over his shoulder so he has to hunch. “Epel, question: what is “this kind of thing”. You mean… as in friendships or dating?”

Deuce looks shocked, even so more than Epel. “Dating?!”

“Why are you even so shocked?” Ace asks him, furrowing his eyebrows. When Deuce starts to ponder over his words, he rolls his eyes. “[Name] probably have had a crush on this imbecile”— he points his fork at Epel—” for damn years now, if I had to guess”.

“Years?!”

“Thank you for the dramatic echo effect again, Deuce,” Ace snarls and finally focuses on Epel. Too distracted with a bickering between his friends, his spirits lift up a little. “And you, Epel. Pull yourself together. Do you want to sever the relationship? Do nothing. Do you want to be friends? Apologize to [Name] and try to patch the bond. Do you want to be in a relationship? …Welp, figure out that for yourself.”

…

“Amazing advice, Ace,” Deuce claps his hands theatrically.

He sticks out his tongue and winks. “You could never give a better one.”

Epel gets up from his seat.

“Thanks, you two. I… will do something.”

“Good luck,” Ace waves at him as Epel makes his way over to the door. “If it works out, you owe us a free drink. Especially me.”

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

10. Have Epel fight for your love!!

It’s hard to find someone when the person knows your schedule and actively tries to avoid you. Choosing more roundabout corridors and sacrificing your wallet to have most of your meals in Monstro Longue instead of the cafeteria are only some of the things you did to avoid encountering Epel.

But he didn’t give up, and maybe his tenacity is what makes you oblige Epel once he finds you.

You don’t question him when he grabs your hand and asks you to skip the last lesson with him that feels almost unimportant as his intertwined fingers warm yours. You don’t comment on how his grip is stronger than usual and how he doesn’t let it go when your hands begin to sweat.

But as you leave the main building of NRC, the curiosity gets the better of you.

“Where are we heading to?”

Epel looks over his shoulder to blink at you. “I…,” he stammers, as confused enough to leave you wondering what is your final destination. Or what was your final destination, Epel seems to have forgotten whatever plan he had in mind. “I guess it can be here.”

He ushers you into one of the side alleys, a bit distanced from the main street and sits you down on a bench. You eye him curiously as he slowly lifts his hands to your face—and that is the first time he let go of your hand—and cupped your cheeks.

“Let me be clear. I- really like you,” he said loudly, gazing into your eyes. “And I know I… overreacted earlier. I’m sorry. I don’t want you to avoid me.”

You breathe out slowly. The heat from the “I really like you” moment prickles and makes your face hotter. It doesn’t help that Epel doesn’t shift his gaze from you nor that he has his hands firmly on your cheekbones as he awaits your answer.

“I’m… sorry. I shouldn’t have been getting between you and your friends.”

Epel eyes you, bewildered. “Why are you focusing on that part?”

“Huh?”

“Ah. Maybe… I will phrase it differently,” He hesitates and his tone wavers, but he says the words without a stutter, as if he’s been practising them in front of the mirror, effectively. “I love you.”

“And I- I want to be friends even if you don’t feel the same.” He rushes with an explanation when you don’t answer as your mind goes blank. “Because. I don’t want you to… avoid me anymore. A-actually, you don’t have to rush with your answer. Just, decide, someday, in the near future, haha? I will wait.”

He glances at you and you know he won’t be able to bear long without hearing your answer. As he rushes past you, you think you heard a hushed whisper.

“Dear Sevens, I said it…!”

#twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twst #twisted wonderland imagines #twst imagines #epel felmier x reader #epel felmier #epel twst #epel twisted wonderland #epel x reader

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yurislilygarden · 3 months

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ʚїɞ Self Aware! Hazbin Hotel

ʚїɞ Their reaction after becoming self-aware and first thoughts about reader! part 1

ʚїɞ Angel Dust and Husk / Part 2!

ʚїɞ Keep in mind English is not my first language, so you may find mistakes!

ʚїɞ Word count: just about 1.1k

ʚїɞ Part 1! (Lucifer and Alastor)

ʚїɞ This is WAY shorter than I would like, but I suppose that the first part was more filler-like for the au😭 May rewrite it one day ngl, am not satisfied with how this turned out but I've been at this for way too long

Very few characters would notice something wrong on the first watch of the show, but wouldn't realize, nor become self-aware until the 2nd or further watch.

While everyone's reaction would be different with different amounts of stages before total acceptance of the situation, they all would share the first emotion, simple disbelief. They would first need to even process the fact that they're not real, that they were created solely for the purpose of entertaining… something? Someone? In a completely different Universe. That everything that they thought had happened to them before they died didn't actually happen, they were never alive in the first place. Only after that did the emotions and reactions differ. The very first emotion or actual personal reaction would be:

Angel Dust

Irritation, a little bit of Anger, paranoid

Angel would be mainly irritated and somewhat angry due to realizing that all his pain was technically for nothing. The treatment from Val? His life back on earth that supposedly never happened? His life generally in hell? All that pain and suffering just to entertain someone? At first, he doesn't want to accept that it never happened, that he never existed, that he was never actually alive. That he’s just a 2D character. He just can’t.

He would become paranoid after the immense stress from noticing the little butterfly flying above them from time to time came in, after all, he had no way of knowing if he himself or others were watched only when they could see the little glowing motherfucker, or maybe they could be watched even without seeing them, without their knowledge. He would be a little disappointed in himself for not noticing anything earlier, especially since they don’t know just how long have you been watching them. He'd be up for drugs way more than ever, no, he didn't want to disappoint Charlie or anyone else by fucking up the progress he'd been doing, but surely they would understand looking at the whole picture right? He’d rather go back to being blissfully unaware than knowing he's not real if it means he's gonna feel like this. He hates it. He hates you.

At least at the start.

It was soon after he became self-aware that the others realized why he was acting more strangely than normal and filled him in on what they knew, which was barely anything, to tell the truth, but it was enough to get him thinking. Were you as bad as he first thought if you did nothing but watch them the whole time? He will blame Charlie for all the better thoughts of you, but he started thinking, what if you really can't do anything but watch? He knows others have mixed thoughts about what can you do, an example being whether you can only watch, or do you choose to just watch. He's on the ‘can only watch‘ team.

His feelings were mixed for a pretty long time. On one side, he thought he should be against the small glowing thingy, but there's also the other side seeing that you do nothing to them, just watch.

(I would say that he would have a little soft spot if you reminded him of Molly, his sister, but we don’t know anything about her. I’m guessing she was nice/good since she landed in heaven, so yeah, remind him of his sister in some way and there’s a soft spot he tries to hide.)

He was really negative at first, starting out as really irritated, but with time and help from the others (mainly Charlie since she didn't want anyone in the hotel to be against you), he did get to the neutral zone, and by the time any of them meet you, he would be in the more positive neutral zone.

Husk

Anger and worry

To say he's pissed would be the understatement of the century. The moment he processed his, everyone’s, situation and the disbelief passed, he could just feel anger, because how dare someone disregard their feelings, their whole damn existence like that? Do you think that they’re some sort of clowns that are supposed to entertain you?! Like most characters, he’s disappointed in himself as well for not noticing earlier. It’s even worse when there’s others who noticed before him and didn’t say shit.

But as much as he's pissed off, there's actually the feeling of worrying just under. What does it mean for them now that they realize they're just characters in a show, that they find out something they shouldn't? Can it fuck up their life on this side? Can it fuck up the whole city or more because of this? Should they try to continue living like they don't know shit or try to communicate with you or your world? Similar to Lucifer's, his mind is a mess.

Like everyone, he hates the idea, the knowledge, of the fact that they all are just some 2D characters created to be in some sort of a show to entertain people. Did that mean that his whole past of being an Overlord didn’t happen at all? That his supposed memories of that time were fake? Could he have been free from the deal if he had an actual choice in his actions?

He would keep reminding himself all the time about their situation even if he doesn’t want to, his mind just goes there without permission. He feels his skin crawl thinking about all the time that they’ve been watched, controlled, without knowing, for who knows how long. He would be in the middle when it comes to when all of the characters became self-aware, there were some before him, but there were also some people after him.

Reader can only see what they're meant to, and the characters realize it over time, but Husk knowing it leads to him sometimes trying to catch the small glowing butterfly in his paws when he is off screen/camera for you. Which he fails at every time as his hands just phase through your small form.

The others can just occasionally see him jumping up and down trying to catch the little shit or use his wings and try to catch your small form like that just to fail every single time.

Like with everyone else, you could have a small personal favor. You would have a sort of a plus point in his mind if you turned out to like gambling or card games, he would find the idea of playing with/against you somewhat enjoyable (he would think of gambling for answers, a deal where the one who wins a round will ask a question and the other has to answer to the best of their capability).

It would take longer than most, even with the others trying to help, to get him to the neutral zone, never mind the positive one. It was hard for him to see you in any other light than negative when they had so little information on you, for all they could know, what little they had could’ve been completely wrong. So his feelings start at practically despising you, then after a longer time going into simply not caring as much, shrugging off, if you will, and that wouldn’t change too much until he meets reader personally.

Notes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated

｡⋆｡˚ ʚ Taglist ɞ ˚｡⋆｡

@laundrybear413

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calisources · 2 months

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𝐑𝐎𝐘𝐀𝐋 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐒, 𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐑𝐎𝐘𝐀𝐋 𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒 𝐐𝐔𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒.

All sentences have been taking from different media and literature, movies and more regarding the topic of mistresses and favorites, mostly in the setting of royal court but can also be adjusted to other time periods. Change names, pronouns, locations as you see fit. Some of these include foul language, so beware. Implications of cheating are also in these.

You are my king, Niko, and I need you.

Everything I say is obeyed; everything I want is given to me.

You are such hard work to seduce, Niko.

She wanted to sit ON him, not next to him.

Never underestimate the power of a woman's intuition.

Behind every great king, there is a great queen. And behind them, there is a mistress.

The King is allowed to have as many favorite as he pleases.

A queen is never without her secrets.

A woman's beauty is her greatest weapon, use it wisely.

Rules are meant to be broken, especially by queens.

Queens do not beg for love, they command it.

Have as many bedwarmers as you wish, but I am your wife and you will not humiliate me.

A queen's grace can disarm her enemies.

He will grow tire of you, as he does with the others.

Having an ugly mistress is therefore a fatal mistake.

When a man takes a mistress, he doesn't turn around and divorce his wife.

Finding out that you are not your lover’s only lover hurts.

But a mistress can do interesting thing with food. Shall I describe them?

You will come back to the castle with me.

I-I'm not your responsibility.

You are mine. They gave you to me, remember? And I want to keep you.

Your Grace---I am a virgin.

I realize that, and it pleases me. You do not doubt that I can be gentle with you?

They say you grow tire after the first night. No mistress last longer than a night with the king.

I know what you are trying to do, but do not think to take the King away from me. Let him play with you.

Done being sore yet, by chance?

From a mistresses’s perspective, taken men are low maintenance. All they want is sex, sex, sex.

Do not take it harshly. It’s only flesh. And a body wants what it wants.

Kings have mistresses, Queens have secrets and they die with them.

To be the mistress of a married man is to have the better role.

The role of a mistress if make a man’s mood change and send him happy to his wife.

Don't be mad at a hoe for doing what she does best, besides it's not her that owes you that loyalty.

It was not a request. I will take you to bed and make you mine.

My wife has no interest in my bed, butb I assure you, my bed has interest in you.

Wives are young men's mistresses, companions for middle age, and old men's nurses.

I don't want her to know the truth about us.

They know about us and they do not care. My wife does not mind to share.

As long as I do my duty, I am allowed to do who I please.

This absurd jealousy.

A mistress should be like a little oasis, refreshing and exciting, away from the mundane realities of life

The bedchamber is where political alliances are sealed, and where empires are born.

A king may rule a nation, but a woman's allure can conquer the king.

Behind every great king, there are the whispers of his mistresses.

The allure of a mistress lies not only in her beauty, but in her ability to manipulate.

A mistress must be both lover and confidante, juggling passion and secrecy.

In the court of kings, a mistress can become more powerful than a queen.

He is one of his favorites, and everyone knows it. You must become his favorite too.

In the arms of a mistress, a king can escape the weight of his crown.

I want more than this. You cannot offer me more than secret meetings and a warm bed. People whisper.

You can be my wife here.

If I desire to marry someone else, would I be allowed or you would not let me?

I'll take you as my only mistress. I won't have a thought or an affection for anyone else.

I call Mary my English mare, because I ride her so often.

He cannot give you his true heart... for *I* have that in my keeping.

You can't have 3 people in a marriage!

Seduce me. Write letters to me. And poems, I love poems. Ravish me with your words. Seduce me.

You've taken her honor!

I swear to your grace, someone else was there before me.

They say all his liaisons are soon over. He blows hot, he blows cold.

Sometimes I believe you will grow tire of me. But then I find you here in my bed.

If I cannot please the King, will he kill me?

You must not touch me, for Caesar’s I am.

Everyone knew she was his queen and wife in anything but name.

You will have this orgasm if it’s the last thing I do.

What happened to the art of seduction? A woman enjoys being seduced.

I will not be the laughing stock of the realm. A woman who can only be a lover, never a wife.

I found her a very beautiful young woman with a very sweet and yielding disposition, She confessed to great admiration for Your Majesty. Should I, arrange ...?

If you put the Queen aside for this affair, the kingdom will fall apart.

If you seek Your Grace, you know where to find him.

I trust his mistress more than I trust any man on this table.

My husband is extremely jealous. Wants me sent to a nunnery.

I am with child. It is His Majesty's child.

Slow down so I can see how you do it.

Think of this as training. For your future husband’s pleasure. And mine.

should like to be your wife in every way.

I was wondering if you'd like to become my mistress.

You like to board other men's boats.

You know perfectly well what the King desires and what he shall have.

I saw with my own eyes how attentive he is to you.

My only satisfaction is that in frustrating you, I hasten your fall from the King's good graces.

Any man is weak against a maiden’s magic. Alluring and sweet. Like spring.

I make you this promise. When we are married, I will deliver you a son.

I have yet to decide whether to make your bedmate a head shorter.

So you can have your lovers and I have my own, but at the end, we return to one another.

If you are not careful and a bastard is conceived, you will be ruined.

Everything will change for her. That kiss is her destiny and fortune.

So, what about this girl, this putain, the king's whore? Why doesn't somebody just get rid of her?

Have any of the women you've bedded with lied about their virginity?

Pretty, witty Nell, don’t forget you are mine until I say so.

Do you seriously expect me to be the first Prince of Wales in history not to have a mistress?

I will teach you many things, how to please a man and in turn, you will be my eyes and ears in court.

I thought you wished for us to be over.

How can I when you plague my mind at every turn.

Let me have you, at least once. Many women would consider it an honor.

#roleplay memes #sentence meme #( cali meme. )#rp memes #rp prompt #rp musings #roleplay prompt #mistresses meme #royal scandal meme #mistress meme

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undead-supernova · 3 months

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I'll Pay the Price, You Won't.

Miss Heartbreak

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3

Masterlist

This chapter is based off of Miss Americana & The Heartbreak Prince by Taylor Swift and I'm starting to realize just how in deep I am in the lore and storytelling of her music. See if you can find my easter eggs, hm?

plot: no cameras catch my muffled cries...you are the only one who seems to care...this is a fight that some day we're gonna win

Pairings: modernrockstar!Eddie x fem!popstar!Reader (curvy!reader, bisexual!reader)

Warnings: slut shaming, body image insecurities, public shaming, crying

easter egg count: 43

wc: 5.3k

When you first realized you were in love with him, it was a Saturday night. You weren’t even with him. In fact, you were at a house party with some of your best friends. They weren’t famous—these three girls were in college, just the way you should’ve been. You’d met them at a dive bar in Pittsburg while touring.

There was a distinct memory of watching these girls walk in, talking about their English courses and the ten-page research papers on the feminist lens of the works of Octavia Butler, rape culture in a novel called Waiting for the Barbarians, and how the third girl was doing some deep dive into the coded lesbianism in Gertrude Stein’s Tender Buttons. You approached them, desperate to know more about their class. Their studies. Their college experiences.

Desperate to know more about the life you gave away when your career blew up three days before moving into your dorm room.

They knew who you were, but they didn’t care to squeal or ask for pictures. Instead, they motioned for you to join them and started to complain about their shared Rhetorical Analysis class. And after a few Fireball shots, some poor attempts at karaoke, and loud debates about Jane Austen and Emily Brontë that nearly got you kicked out, you were solidified.

But there you were, at a college house party after flying out just to see them. You were in drastically different makeup than you were used to. In short, you were basically in Eddie Munson cosplay. Your friends had dressed you up, giggling and adding more charcoal eye shadow than you desired. Becky, Mary, and Este swore it would make you feel better. That you’d dance the night away without a care in the world.

But the couch was where you stayed the whole night, a mimosa (filled with more prosecco than orange juice) in your hands as you watched life exist around you. You were pretending to be a normal twenty-two year old girl. You were pretending that you could have love affairs with anyone you wanted to and if your heart got broken every single time, it wouldn’t be such a big deal to anyone outside of your friends that loved you.

And he would be there, too.

With your head to rest on his shoulder, listening to him talk about his Dungeons and Dragons game he hosted with the rest of the band when they were tucked away in hotel rooms. They were too big to go out without everyone and their mother following them, so they found a way to escape.

(People thought they did drugs and partied. And, at the start of the band, they did. Eddie had told you about having a coke problem in the beginning and Gareth, Jeff, and Grant trashing hotel rooms. Ronnie getting the cops called on her house regularly for the outrageous parties she hosted. But it died out after about a year when they realized how tiring it was to just be on all the time. They went to parties sometimes, but now they really looked forward to smoking a few joints and playing a fantasy game.)

In this fictional scenario, they’d congregate in the communal rooms at their dorm. They’d buy a few pizzas and beer, remembering to get the garlic twists of course, and play for six hours.

And you would lean over to his ear, brushing your lips against his ear and say, “I’m in love with you.”

As soon as it fell into your imagination, you were startled to the point of springing up and running to the bathroom, hyperventilating in the mirror. The rest of your night had been spent with your friends cuddling you in their shared apartment until you could calm down.

“It’s too soon for this!” you exclaimed. “It’s too soon for me to fall in love.”

They said that it was fine. That you were allowed to love him. That the chance at love was worth the bullshit. You could survive this, even if he didn’t feel the same. Maybe you would be able to connect better if you just told him how you felt.

But this was only a month after you started seeing each other.

Only a week before you two were caught in public together.

Only a week before the whole world had an opinion.

“I can’t believe we’re out at a restaurant in Manhattan of all places.”

“On a date,” he noted.

“On a date.”

“Oh, and happy four-month anniversary,” he said while holding up his piece of bread, leaning over to tap yours with it.

“Ah, yes. How could I forget?” you teased before stuffing the slice in your mouth, closing your eyes as you became overwhelmingly calmed by the taste of butter melting on your tongue.

It was super late on a Saturday, one of the only times you could get away with having a private dinner without the threat of paparazzi and lingering glances. You felt fancy, with a sparkly silver dress on, all short with thin straps and a small slit at the thigh. Tall, sparkly silver heels that made you nearly the same height as him. A fluffy pink faux fur coat sitting on the back of the chair (that Eddie had spent the whole drive here running his hands through). Pink nails to match, already chipped from your nervous picking.

Eddie was dressed beautifully, wearing a silk white button down. Simple black blazer and slacks. His signature boots. Those rings. That necklace. Hair up in a bun with bangs and stray hairs framing his face. The only real nontraditional part of his ensemble was a thin layer of black eyeliner adorning his eyelids and waterline, with mascara to match.

Oh, and a coat of lipgloss, lipgloss that he borrowed from you, that was now lining the rim of his wine glass.

“Do you like it?” he asked. “The wine, I mean.”

You looked down at the burgundy liquid you were absentmindedly swirling. You had no clue what that did for the drink or if it was just to look fancy, but it was something you saw your parents do growing up. You decided to take a crack at being an adult tonight, just to see how it felt.

“Yeah, it’s nice. Thank you.”

He nodded, but you could tell that he was still nervous about the whole thing. You couldn’t blame him. Being out for an official date together in the heart of a city with nearly nine million people who could ruin it at any second was quite a heavy burden. There was a part of you that feared that you had become a burden in the last four months.

Enough of that, you tried to tell yourself.

“However,” you added. “I do have to confess that I have absolutely no clue what the difference is between this and the stuff I get at the grocery store.”

Eddie let out a sigh and a breathy laugh. You wondered how long he’d been holding it in. “Well, that’s a relief because I was literally sitting here thinking the exact same thing.”

You couldn’t help but giggle. “Are you serious?”

He kept laughing. “Yes! I thought I was the only one!”

“No, this is literally exactly how I feel whenever I have dinner with some of the label execs,” you exclaimed. “They order all this like crazy expensive wine, and I have to just sit there and be like,” you raised the pitch of your voice, “Oh, wow. This is sooo cool. So good. What year is it? That must cost a fortune.”

Eddie nodded. “Me, too! And it’s like: Dude, seriously? I could get shit I like better than this at, like, Trader Joe’s or Target. Fuck, even Walmart.”

You giggled as you continued to nod with him. “Yes, yes, yes! I genuinely don’t get it. Everyone is so pretentious, I swear.”

“I wholeheartedly agree.” Eddie raised his glass. “Fuck ‘em.”

You grinned. “Fuck ‘em!” you agreed, clinking your glass with his before you took a hearty sip. Finally took a second glance around the room.

“I really thought there’d be more people here,” you observed. “Isn’t this, like, a popular restaurant? I hear celebs love this place.”

“I maaaay have bought out the empty tables,” Eddie admitted, looking sheepish. “I didn’t want our first official date to be bombarded with people we know or even ones we don’t. I wanted to make sure I could focus.”

A grin met your lips. “You’re a sweetheart, you know that?”

“That’s you, baby. That’s all you.”

The playful dinner conversation continued with a whole three course meal plus dessert. You came alive in public for once, talking in silly voices and laughing as loud as you wanted. Like you were best friends. Like you were lovers. Holding Eddie’s hand at the table without having to worry about cell phones. No one here was able to take away what was yours.

Despite feeling full, you couldn’t help but nibble on some more of the bread. Your personal trainer, Mary, forbid you from eating any while you were gearing up for another album release and tour. But you were starting to care a little bit less. And she wasn’t here. Eddie was, pushing the basket towards you.

But then the strangest thing happened as the waiter took your dinner plate.

As he turned to leave, you looked past him and saw that the other five occupied tables in the restaurant were…staring. And…so were their waiters? Had everyone finally started staring or were you only now noticing? But you would’ve noticed before…

They were all looking from their phones to you and then back again. The hushed whispers were getting a bit louder, even catching Eddie’s ears. He turned his head to look but was distracted when his phone started ringing.

Gareth.

“Take it,” you encouraged. Eddie raised an eyebrow. “It’s probably important.”

He nodded. “Hey,” he said as he answered. “No, I’m on an incredibly important date, remember?”

As you spread butter over the last slice, you couldn’t help but giggle when Eddie looked up at you with a quick wink and a smile meant only for you.

But then his eyebrows narrowed.

“What’re you doing watching cable?”

And a part of you wished you could hear the other side of the conversation when you watched Eddie’s neutral expression falling into anger.

“They what?”

“It’s fucking SNL. They haven’t had a good run in years. I don’t think anyone even watches—”

You noticed him get cut off before shaking his head.

“What? Why the fuck do people care?”

“Fuck…yeah, okay… Sure, whatever…” He sighed, pinching his nose in frustration. “No, I’m not mad at you. Promise… I’m sorry for being a dick. I just hate people, I swear…” A quick nod. “Thanks for understanding and letting me know. Love you, dude. Okay, talk later.”

“What’s wrong?” you asked as he immediately started searching for something on his phone. “Is everything okay?”

Eddie paused, looking away from his phone to bring his attention back to you.

His expression held something resembling an apology.

“The guys are watching TV back at the hotel and, uh, they were watching SNL…”

“Okay?”

“Apparently they did a skit about you.”

Your stomach dropped as you let his words sink in.

It was one thing to have random people on the internet give you shit. It was another thing entirely for a long-running, highly known television show to have grown adults portray you and spend four to six minutes making fun of you. Especially when you’d performed there merely two months ago.

“Is it…” you trailed, almost unable to speak.

“Yeah,” Eddie said. “Yeah, it’s bad.”

“It’s on YouTube already?” He nodded. “Let me see.”

“Are you sure you want to watch it?”

You nodded. “I should know what’s going on. Everyone’s already staring at us,” you stated, gesturing behind him.

When Eddie looked back at every nameless face watching you, every single person looked away. Like he commanded the room with his presence. Like he had the power to change the world with just one stare.

He had changed your world with just one glance.

Sighing, Eddie clicked on the video, holding it between you two on the table.

“I decided to go on The Bachelorette to prove that I haven't dated everyone,” a woman said with a huge grin, mimicking the way you smiled. "And to get new inspiration because I need to sell my next album. I'm sure this will be fun."

Some new addition to the cast tried to imitate your posture. Your voice. Your everything. She was acting like you were some ditsy girl. Did people really think of you like this? Is this how the cast and crew saw you when you were there?

A fake announcer's voice said, “Here are the men and women chosen for tonight.”

The woman impersonating you smiled even wider in a comedic fashion, making fun of the way you, what, didn't ever give a negative reaction? The camera turned to watch everyone file in.

The different men and women of the SNL cast rotated, pretending to be people you’d allegedly been with. But most of them were wrong. When you were rumored to be dating these people, friend or not, they left, either from wanting that clout or being unable to handle the noise. All you had wanted were real friendships, real relationships. But being burnt at the stake came with the possibility of flammable embers.

One after the other, impression after impression, they were reminding you of everyone you’d lost.

And was that Jacob Elordi pretending to be…Christopher Briney?

(You met Christopher once at the Emmy’s, having taken one fucking photo together before he was whisked away by his team. At the time, you had only wished he would notice you before he got a girlfriend…)

“We're missing one guy...where is he?” the announcer said.

Mikey Day popped in with a smoke machine behind him and some copyright free rock music playing, wearing a curly wig and pretending to be Eddie. The audience lost their minds, erupting in applause and laughter at the sheer mention of him. He was immediately stereotyped as a punk stoner who only pretended to listen to you talk while playing his guitar.

“Hey, babe,” he said, trying to mimic Eddie’s voice. “What’s up?”

You looked over at the real Eddie who looked less than impressed. Less than affected by someone trying to make fun of him. You wished you could say the same for yourself.

“I CHOOSE HIM FOR MY NEXT ALBUM!” the woman shouted before ripping up the roses and walking over. However, she turned and pointed at the others. "Save them for me in case I get bored.”

As she grabbed onto "Eddie's" arm and professed her love, it was clear that he wasn't paying attention. "Are you even listening to me?" she shouted.

“Nah, baaabe,” he said and then realized his “mistake”. Cue laughter. “I’m totes paying attention.” Laughter. “Just practicing this sick riff for the band.” He raised his guitar before turning it the other way. “Does it look cool this way, babe?” Laughter ensued as he pretended to play his guitar right-handed. “Do I look metal as hell?”

“Totally, babe,” the woman said, giggling. “You’re so hot.”

“Ah, babe, thanks. I know it’s been three minutes but this is forever, babe.”

When the skit ended, Eddie turned it off and shoved his phone in his pocket.

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry—”

“It’s okay,” you said, trying to tell yourself more than him. “It’s okay. It’s fine. I’m fine.”

Did anyone see what was happening? That this was starting to get out of hand? It was like nobody gave a shit, nobody cared that you were human. Yes, you were privileged and had money, you knew that. You grew up fucking poor, hit even worse with the 2008 recession, hardly ever recovering.

You always acknowledged your privilege, always made it a point to give it away to people who needed it more than you. Provided for your family so your parents didn’t have to go back to working at the sawmill and being fucking tour guides for next to nothing at Graceland. (The fucking irony.) Donated constantly to animal shelters, women’s shelters, LGBTQIA+ youth organizations, etc. etc.

But no one would know any of that because you kept that secret. Kept it hidden to be the face of your label, with a shiny pageant smile. You were now the punching bag, the reflection of society that every YouTuber did deep dives on and now SNL was taking a shot at.

When would it end?

“Are you?” Eddie asked, causing you to come out of the fog. “‘Cause your hands are shaking.”

You looked down, realizing he was right. “I—”

Before you could say anything, your own phone buzzed. Looking down, you noticed a text from Becky. It was a link to a video on Twitter or X or whatever the fuck it was called now. Her text read,

Look how delusional the internet is. I don’t care about this crap but I wanted to make sure you knew what was going on before you got bamboozled or something. Also, fuck that SNL skit. Love you.

“There’s more,” you murmured, looking up at Eddie’s concerned expression.

“Fuck.”

He stood up immediately and pulled over the chair next to you. He sat and leaned in, just as deep into this as you were. You didn’t hesitate to click on the link. It was just another band-aid to rip off anyways.

The caption said:

are gareth ronnie and grant next? lmao eddie shouldn’t have gone anywhere near her. the vibes are soooo off

You heard Eddie scoff as he read it.

The video attached was of you and Jeff walking around New York City that very morning, laughing together. You nudged his arm, animatedly talking.

You knew what had happened, distinctly remembering that the conversation was about Eddie. Jeff had been teasing you, telling you that he knew you were disgustingly in love with him and that you needed to just say it before you lost your minds. You thought it was funny, so you jokingly nudged his arm and pretended to threaten violence. That was it. Nothing else happened.

“No!” you exclaimed, wild-eyed as you turned to Eddie. “No, Jeff and I went to get this chocolate mousse at this little bistro we both like. We told you before we left, remember? I swear it was the truth. We were literally talking about you. Eddie, I—”

“It’s all good, sweetheart,” Eddie interrupted, kissing your temple four times. “Don’t worry about it, okay? It’s okay. I believe you. I know you’d never do anything like that.” You felt yourself breathe again. “Besides, Jeff has a crush on our tech manager anyways.”

That made you chuckle for a second, but you felt yourself deflate, putting a hand on your forehead as tears trickled down your cheeks. “I’m scared. I don’t like this, Eddie.”

“Me neither.”

Before you could say anything else, your waiter was approaching the table.

“Is there anything else I can get for you?” the waiter asked, hands politely clasped in front of him. You avoided his gaze, embarrassment flooding your system. There was something irrational telling you that he would tell the internet about your breakdown, expose you for your reaction.

But when you glanced at him, he actually looked…concerned.

“Yeah, could we get the check, please?” Eddie asked in a hushed voice, running his fingers down your back. “We’re gonna need a minute, but I just wanna get that out of the way.”

“Of course, Mr. Munson.” he responded before turning to you. “I can take that plate for you if you’d like?”

“Oh, yes, sorry,” you said, sniffling.

Without thinking, you moved your hand to grab your bread plate, accidentally knocking your glass on the table. You watched as the wine seeped into the white cloth, staining the fabric.

Eddie was quick to grab the glass before it shattered on the floor.

“Oh, shit,” you muttered, taking your napkin and trying to blot the stain. You kept glancing up at the waiter through your tears. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. That’s so rude of me. I’m so sorry.”

The waiter shook his head. “It’s okay, ma’am. We have a hundred more in the back. This happens all the time.”

“Here,” you said, shaking your head as you rummaged through your purse. When you found your wad of cash, you handed him a one-hundred-dollar bill. “Take this. For you, not the restaurant. I’m so sorry.”

He gaped at you, looking down at the bill before looking back up. “Um, thank you,” he said, breaking his customer service voice before taking the cash from you. “I’ll get everything sorted for you right away.”

“Sweetheart.”

“I want to leave,” you whispered, your voice cracking. “Can we leave?”

You looked over at Eddie who was already standing and grabbing your coat.

“Yeah, baby,” he said softly. “I’ll pay up front. Come on, let’s go.”

But it wasn’t really going to be that simple, was it?

As soon as you reached the front doors, James and Scott, your personal bodyguard, were stopping you.

“Guys, uh, we got a situation,” Scott said, mainly looking at you.

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

“There’s a fuck ton of paparazzi out there.”

“And that’s the only way we can get to the car,” James added.

You wanted to look at Eddie, but you didn’t want him knowing just how scared you were. He was so stoic and strong, always being able to shrug everything off. It was like he was born for this.

Maybe you weren’t.

“Okay,” Eddie said, putting his shoulders back before grabbing your hand. His grasp was firm with a gentle squeeze that left your heart soaring despite the fear. He nudged your arm, causing you to look up. “Ready, sweetheart?”

You nodded, looking back at James and Scott, tear stains still adorning your cheeks. “I’m ready. Let’s do this.”

A gasp left your mouth as the doors opened and a swarm of people with cameras crowded around you. Flashes and red recording lights and cell phones. Screams, gasps. Some fans tried to catch your attention the best they could, but their voices were drowned out by the incessant vultures. James and Scott were on either side of you, pushing people out of the way.

But it did nothing. It only sprung more tears.

Paparazzi shouted your name. Shouted Eddie’s.

“What did you think of the SNL skit?”

“Any comment on the cheating allegations?”

“Is this thing between you serious?”

They were all variations of the same thing.

Except for one voice that stood out from the rest.

“Hey, why are you crying?”

You turned, seeing a teenage girl who looked barely fourteen, maybe fifteen, with rainbow braces and friendship bracelets in her hand. She stood next to who you presumed to be her mother, over by the curb. Set apart from the hive.

Despite your better judgment, you nudged Scott and walked over to her quickly.

“I want to talk to her,” you told him loudly, disconnecting your hand from Eddie’s.

Scott nodded. “You got maybe a minute and a half before things get buckwild.”

“She’s got this,” Eddie said. You looked at him and smiled.

Thank you, you mouthed before rushing over to the girl.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“Just got a lot going on, hun,” you said softly, trying to smile but your tears clouded your vision. Your only hope was that the sight wouldn’t scar her for the rest of her life. “What’s your name?”

“Caroline,” she said before handing you the bracelets. “I made these for you.”

Her mom placed a hand on your shoulder, causing you to look up. “She’s been keeping them with her just in case she ever saw you in the city. She’s a big, big fan.”

You could only try to smile again, studying the colors Caroline chose to represent your last few albums. Light blue to represent your self-titled album. A soft sage for your second, “Tetris”. Sparkling gold for your last album, “Acacia My Dear”. There were even one or two that had references to inside jokes shared between you and the fans.

“These are beautiful,” you told her, immediately rolling them onto your wrist. “Thank you so much, Caroline.”

“Could I get a picture of you two?” her mom asked.

“Hey,” Scott interrupted. “Sorry, we gotta cut this short. They’re pressin’ in on us.”

You nodded, looking back at Caroline. “Thank you so much, Caroline. This means everything to me,” you said honestly. Without thought, you gave her a tight hug. “You just made everything better,” you whispered in her ear.

When you pulled back, her mom grabbed your hand. “You’re doing great things,” she said, softly squeezing your hand. “Don’t let those bastards win.”

Before you could even process her words or thank her, Scott was pulling you back to Eddie. Scott seemed a little softer, blonde hair still peppering with gray. He was from Tennessee, like you, his accent just noticeable enough to give him away. James seemed to contrast him, with thick muscles, frown lines across his forehead, and a bald head. Oh, and did you mention that he was a hardass from Ireland?

Your grasp on Eddie’s hand tightened with every passing second before you were finally enclosed in the confines of the black van.

The walk to the car was only, what, two minutes? Three?

But it felt like forever.

The waterworks continued, wracking your body with sobs you didn’t realize were just brewing behind the façade you were able to put up on any given occasion.

Scott took the driver’s seat while James took shotgun. You could just barely make out what they were whispering.

“Fucking vampires, the lot of ‘em,” James said, shaking his head.

“Them two deserve better,” Scott replied. “They’re just fucking kids.”

Eddie pulled you into his side, making sure you were hidden from any and all intrusion even if the windows were severely tinted.

You had an urge, however miniscule it felt, to go on your Instagram story and be bitter about it. Tell SNL to fuck off and remind them how sexist and gross it was to put you in a sketch just to make fun of your dating history when there were men around you who ran through women like sport and talked about them like each one was a momentary fad.

But you knew what would happen. You would be considered overreacting. You’d be a woman scorned and laughed at for caring so much despite the rest of the fucking internet seeming to care more.

So, you did nothing. Said nothing.

You merely curled yourself further into Eddie and fought the urge to have a mental breakdown.

“We’re getting out of the city,” he whispered. “Back to your place.”

“It’s a long drive,” you mumbled.

“I don’t mind. Really. We made the drive out here, remember?” Eddie shook his head. “Speaking of, I’m sorry. I should’ve chosen somewhere more secluded.”

“You shouldn’t have to. We shouldn’t have to.”

He leaned back, tilting your chin up to make eye contact with you. “I want you to feel safe.”

“But I want us to be normal people going to a normal restaurant and have a normal date.”

“We’ll win this fight, okay?” he said, tracing his thumb along your cheeks as the tears came and went. “They have to get bored soon enough, yeah? TikTok will move on to its next viral bullshit anytime now. We just have to wait it out.”

“It’ll just go away?”

“Honestly, I don’t know.” Both you and Eddie let out a sigh. “Listen, okay? Just listen to me. We’ll figure this out. I’ll tell the world to fuck off. Just give me the word and I’ll do it.”

“That’ll just egg them on.”

He kissed your wet cheek. Pulling back, you could see the color return to his face as he smiled. “I could always pull an Ozzy.”

That got a giggle out of you, a few snot bubbles awkwardly falling down your lips. Eddie didn’t mind, simply grabbing a tissue to help wipe it away.

“Absolutely do not do that,” you said with a sigh, grabbing another one.

“Then I won’t. But I’m here in front of you. I want you. I need you.”

You nodded, your eyes glassy and wild as you tried to stop crying.

“Alright, babe?” he exaggerated, imitating Mikey Day. “I’m metal as hell, babe.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. It was ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous. You looked up at him, watching a playful grin meet his lips.

“Oh, yeah, babe,” you played along, still wiping your tears. “You’re sooooo hot, babe.”

Eddie nearly suffocated you with another hug, rapidly kissing the top of your head. You couldn’t help but giggle again, feeling some weight lifting off of you. For the first time, you had someone in your life who was blocking out the noise.

“You know, the jokes aren’t even funny,” he said. “I don’t know why they’re making fun of a right-handed guitar. Jimi Hendrix had one and that guy’s a legend.”

“I think the point was to make you look dumb by playing it upside down.”

“Mmmm, I don’t think so, babe,” he teased. “I’m, like, sooooo smart.”

“You’re soooo right, babe.” “Okay, I’m cutting us off. I just know we won’t stop talking like this.”

The laughter died out, silence ensuing. Eddie was fiddling with your bracelets, his touch settling the storm in your stomach.

“Why did you walk over to that girl?”

You thought about her, Caroline, and how she was the only one outside to ask if you were okay. All she wanted was to give you bracelets. Had been keeping them with her just in case she ever saw you. Fuck, if that wasn’t one of the most shocking things you’d ever heard from a fan. It was kind. And when she did see you, she cared more about how you were feeling.

“She asked me why I was crying,” you said. “She actually cared. It meant something to me.”

“You really love the fans, don’t you?”

You nodded. “Yeah, I do.”

The night seemed to settle into comfortable silliness, ending with pints of Ben & Jerry’s and the start of another TV show for you two to binge. You settled into his side with fuzzy socks and old pajamas from before all of the bullshit ensued. They were probably ten years old, from the thrift store down the street from your childhood home. The hand-me-downs that never seemed to get holes, the ones that always seemed to save you from the brink of madness.

Eddie was donning a similar outfit, just with a few holes here and there. Baseball tee with a logo for his old D&D group, Hellfire Club, back in high school. Some of the lines were starting to crack, the red fading into something nearly blood orange.

It was comforting to know that Eddie was able to shrug it all off. That he was able to guide you through this fear and loathing. But some part of you wondered how long that could last. All the heat and dismissal and scrutiny and humiliation. All the assumptions and poking.

Because if he wanted to do this, if he was in it for the long haul, this was going to be how it was for the rest of your careers, for the rest of your lives. He wasn’t going to be able to shrug everything off. What happens when he’s poked at? When he’s the one in your shoes?

And as you laid there at 2am with Eddie fast asleep next to you, you were starting to wonder about yourself. Because if you wanted to do this, if you wanted to follow wherever he led, you were going to have to endure. Watching him sleeping soundly, you couldn’t help but wonder how long you could last.

#Eddie munson #Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson angst #modern!eddie munson #modern!eddie x reader #Eddie Munson x female reader #boyfriend!eddie munson

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unabashedly-so · 9 months

Text

💙💜🩷 SDV Bachelor HC 🩷💜💙

How much has each bachelor explored their bisexuality?

Content warning: compulsive heteronormativity, loss of family, grief, risky sexual behavior mention, drinking mention. SFW.

✨The Bachelors✨

Elliott

look me in the eye and just try to tell me this man doesn't already know. i dare you i fuckin' dare you i WANT YOU TO

that line on the 10 heart boat scene about not knowing he could feel that way about another man is bullshit and that is a piece of canon I toss into the sea.

now please understand the majority of this is colored by my very vivid hc of Elliott's upbringing and young adult life, but you're literally reading a hc post that is labeled hc so you bought the ticket now board the train. choo choo mfs.

the low hanging fruit is that this is a man that canonically spends hours on hair care, dresses like that, talks like that, etc. etc.. Yes, you can be cishet etc. and do that, sure.

and don't get me wrong, it's valid that Elliott could just Be Like That. (I love and respect the hell out of that incorrect opinion)

but this man is penny-romance novel cover coded. just. think about that. think about this active CHOICE he is making.

ffs he lives on a BEACH and dresses in a THREE-PIECE SUIT with his PERFECTLY COIFFED hair that he has to spend HOURS on because that's what happens when you LIVE. ON. A. BEACH.

i am going to have an aneurysm about this man's life choices rn

he's arguably pretty self-secure*, which tracks because you don't get to be his age and not have some better understanding of yourself. As others have pointed out, there's no real ""growth"" in Elliott's arc because boy came whole because HE BEEN KNEW HE BEEN THROUGH THIS ALREADY. He's secure in his identity because he's worked it out already! He's moved on! focusing on his career and legacy now that he knows who is he and who he's not!!

*dont make me drag out the receipts his part is already long enough just trust me ok

now meet Elliott in his early 20's and wow, buddy, you are trying way too hard I promise you things are gonna be okay sweetheart

speaking of his early 20's, it's hc to me that he did, uhhhh, so much exploring. of everything. and everyone in the English and Theater department during university.

King Slut, long may he reign. 🙏

just. someone who's not as self-secure and self-aware would not be able to own the aesthetic PLUS the temperament we see with Elliott, who really only gets flustered with the intimate interpersonal stuff because he's a romantic and it's meaningful. He's confident in who he is and the kind of person he wants to be, and you don't get to that point in life without having done a lot of experimenting and soul-searching.

I could write a whole fucking meta on this boy, but for today: 9/10 he knows it, owns it, enjoys it, but he's got more interesting things going on in his opinion than to make one of his core personality traits just Gay/Queer/Bi/Pan, etc. He has an AESTHETIC and BI BY YOBA he's sticking to it.

also he can walk in heels better than you.

Harvey

Hmm, he's actually hard to get a read on for me. There's a few others in the fandom who might have a better take than me, but here's what I can offer.

first let's grant him that he's older. With age comes wisdom, experience, etc. the older bachelor/ettes are just going to be at an advantage vs the younger ones.

also... like 8 years in college. I cannot be swayed away from this as a crucial part of his journey.

twinkle TWINK-le little snack.

it just feels like one of those things he felt happening in high school and might have gotten bullied for it because everyone Knew but he couldn't/wouldn't just own it.

but then in college he finally realized that owning it would give him the power, so he did. kind of. very quietly.

he probably had a boyfriend or two in undergrad. They were definitely the kind to hold hands from the coffee shop to the library. you know the ones, we've all seen 'em. <3

and isn't he just so lucky that he can get butterflies from girls too?

a blessing and a burden for this man with anxiety because, oh no, now everyone's cute.

by the time he gets to Pelican town, his last relationship kind of ended on a sour note, so he's a little discouraged from pursuing romantic relationships, hence why he's a bit guarded and shy and nervous.

he gets a 8/10, he's just quiet about it because who's business is it but his own? also, like, he's literally the doctor for everyone. He's gotta keep some confidentiality in this small town.

Sebastian

while he doesn't show it, I'd say Sebastian is actually quite comfortable with being bi.

I mean like as comfortable as he can be around people in general.

He doesn't bring it up, and doesn't really let anyone know either, but again that's just kind of his MO, regardless of gender.

now when he's Together with someone, well that's a different story. we stan possessive Sebastian in this house 🫡

he probably wouldn't bring it up with the gang unless someone else brought it up first. 🤷‍♀️

would probably give some semi-defensive response of "yeah, what of it??" to his friends, but a low hearts farmer might get a coldly aggro "why are you asking? That's none of your business."

he and Maru Know about each other but keep those conversations private. hashtag just sibling things ig

has definitely kissed guys at concerts before. Lots of people can also provide a feeling of anonymity, letting him get lost in the crowd and not have to worry so much. 10/10

Shane

closeted sportsballer. As a former Closeted Sportsballer, I can see this going two ways.

First option: you DO NOT explore that unless you want things to get real weird REAL FAST.

Like, I'm not even talking locker room nonsense, let's be mature here. Even if you do not like your teammates, you WILL still share a Sports Bond with them built on a shared passion, a common goal, and lots of comiseration.

So if you're already on iffy social standing, which I'm just gonna go out on a limb and say Shane might have had... you're gonna have a bad time.

Then after his gridball career ended, it may have already been baked in that that was Dangerous. OR he could have just been so far down the path of self-loathing that he stopped looking at people romantically.

OR OR--part of his self-loathing actually opened him up to exploring his sexuality......

......which is a very nice way of saying he took part in a lot of risky sexual encounters. 😮‍💨 (with all genders! One night stands do not discriminate!)

so if there were any feelings involved, it was... not good or conducive to self-understanding. Probably made things worse.

cue the drinking! the depression! all the risky behaviors!

ALTERNATIVELY... Option two: he does explore Feelings For Dudes and it could have played into his sportsball exit. 🤔

Hi. Let me just reiterate personal experience here: LEAVING A TEAM CAN REALLY FUCK YOU UP depending on your life outside the sport. Sports teams are a social support group, like, I really hate the phrase "like family"... but literally structurally so similar. If you already don't have a strong family life outside of the sport (like Shane has admitted to, let's fuckin goooooo), AND being on a team is an overall positive thing in your life??

Leaving your team (willingly or unwillingly) takes away that social support. And not just the social/emotional support, but the structure to your life, the routine, the feeling of belonging, the PURPOSE!!!

gee, wonder what kind of feelings those can bring about in a person. like a sad chicken man.

are we seeing a trend here???????

Ok this definitely got more into a sportsball psychological study, but what I'm saying is my money's on gridball heavily influencing his trajectory but since he DIDN'T have the family or social supports outside of it, he crashed and burned afterwards. Contrast with Alex below who DID have social supports and--

focus, bisexuality.

Personally, I like the idea that Shane's been with dudes, but it's never been anything emotionally healthy (except maybe one pre-gridball-exodus which could have prompted the leave......🤔👀) or fulfilling.

5/10, would be 6 but he got -1 because it was driven by self-loathing. >:(

somebody come show him some mlm love!!!

Sam

baby boy. sweet baby boy.

the younger bachelor/ettes are at a bit of a disadvantage because they're in the time of their life where they would be exploring their sexualities in a conducive environment. Not to say the valley isn't but there's, uh, only 11 other singletons there and they all know each other sooooo...

that said, due to Kent's military career, it's likely Sam has had time living outside of Pelican Town, so may be a bit farther ahead than, say, Sebastian who's lived there his whole life.

speaking of Kent, it's canon that Daddy has been in and out of his life and tbf I don't remember exactly how Sam feels about that but

I'm JUST SAYIN'. baby boy gets a whiff of attention from some buff dude who wants to make him his baby girl?? melting.

you know the trope of how girls with absent fathers sometimes overcorrect for that and seek out male attention like crazy? well, who says boys are any different??

what I'm getting at is this: you're trying to tell me Sam has NEVER had a raging crush on Alex?????

I mean fr it was probably like. Alex told him "good choice" on his ice cream flavor once and it was all downhill from there.

plus I'm hoping he's got a solid enough friendship with Sebastian (and Abigail) that they could talk about these things without it getting weird.

also, singer/lead guitarist in a band?? come on, too easy.

anyway 5/10, once again a bit oblivious until he gets smacked in the face. Definitely a flavor of "haha no homo bro! :):) ...... unless...?? 👀"

Alex

closeted sportsballer, round 2 EXCEPT

he canonically admits he crushes real easy. so just statistically speaking, there's an equal likelihood that he's crushed on the male singletons of the valley, too. Which totally doesn't even take into consideration his gridballer time, which I'll get to in a second.

he also admits his crushes don't usually last very long. part of that probably has to do with a lot with attachment issues (seriously he should be more messed up than he is), but if gridball is just SDV American Football, there's probably a good deal of internalized homophobia Alex has had to either work through or not work through. hence why his not het crushes might not last long.

but confusing and conflicting as they may be, THEY'RE STILL THERE. just. probably presenting more like a "wow I'm really noticing this person a lot lately huh. I mean I guess they look pretty good and seem kind of cool..." he's completely and utterly oblivious to so much, his own feelings included.

so what I'm saying is there was a brief window of time where Alex unknowingly had a crush on Sam and, listen, under the right circumstances Sam/Alex (Smalex?) could have been canonized--don'T BOO ME, I'm RIGHT

as for gridball, compulsive heteronormativity is absolutely rampant so there's no way he could have felt comfortable exploring his interest in other gender(s). ESPECIALLY in his case where he's still kind of on the outside, trying to model himself to fit a certain kind of mold. Just, no chance, absolutely none.

and really, Idk, between him and Haley I'm starting to get real compulsive heteronormativity vibes now... not that they're mad about it, but they were kinda forced into those roles and, well, the shoes KIND OF fit I GUESS...

you might say it was ... they're kind of sh... shoeho--shoehorn--*shot*

Anyway, boy's represso. 2/10, if you called him bi he'd say wait why are you leaving , what did you want to tell me???

#bachelorettes will go up another day #gotta percolate some more #stardew valley #sdv #sdv bachelors #sdv headcanons #sdv Elliott #sdv alex #sdv sam #sdv sebastian #sdv shane #sdv harvey #bisexuality #unabashedly posting

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flxwxr-bxy · 1 year

Note

Hii hru?? If I may, can I request chuuya and ranpo having a crush then confessing Hcs? GN!reader too :>

Feel free to decline ^^ and have a great day :D

— BLUE SALVIA ☆

☾ Hi! Ty so much for your request and support I really appreciate it☆

☆ Genre: Fluff

☾ Character: Chuuya x Gn! Reader / Ranpo x Gn! Reader

☆ Warning: None!

☾ I am not a native English speaker, so I apologize if you find any spelling mistakes.☆

— Chuuya ☆

The kind of guy who asks for permission to court you.

It didn't take him long to realize his feelings for you, after all he doesn't spend much time with many people, so when he realized that he felt more at ease when he was with you and that he didn't have the need to go home if he was in the same room with you, it was a matter of time before he realized his crush

At first, he didn't know exactly what to do, but after figuring out that he couldn't keep it to himself, he decided that asking you for a date was definitely the best option.

He'd be lying if he said he wasn't nervous that you'd reject him, but it wasn't as if keeping his feelings to himself was any better, so he confidently walked up to you and looking deep into your eyes asked you out on a date.

Relieved the moment you accepted his offer, he made sure to make his feelings quite clear with actions and gifts, gifting you items you mentioned you liked and inviting you frequently to dinners.

This would continue for some time until he was certainly sure that your feelings for each other were the same, he confessed quite casually in one of your late night conversations and without helping himself he gave you a soft smile when his confession was accepted.

“I'm sure by now you should have realized my feelings for you, although I'm not going to lie and say I'm not scared about it, and what it might imply for our future, I can't pretend they don't exist either, so with that in mind what do you say, would you go out with me?”

— Ranpo ☆

Completely oblivious to his feelings

when I say it would take ranpo a long time to realize his crush, I mean it, he wouldn't question his feelings for you much because he also enjoys spending time with the other members of Ada, but what he couldn't realize was the way he treated you slightly differently than everyone else

inviting you to his research without realizing that he liked to brag about his ability and your praise, sometimes giving you some of his candy if you were feeling bad or just hungry and feeling a rather new sense of affection whenever you were around, or shared some of your food with him

he only started to question it if someone else mentioned these things to him, it wasn't until Poe mentioned how relaxed he looked every time you were around that he finally truly questioned whether he was in love

after coming to the conclusion that yes, he was in love with you, he decided that the best option (even if he already deduced it) was to see if you felt the same way, after all his ability was never wrong, was it? Yeah, that didn't make him any less anxious

You were quite surprised by his sudden confession, but you couldn't say you weren't relieved that he felt the same, so the two decided to go on a date the next day and parted ways.

Ranpo relieved that he wasn't the only one in love, decided to show you his feelings in the best way he could think of, actions

trying to spend more time with you in what he hoped was a not-so-obvious action, or if you let him hug you from time to time, even sleeping on your shoulder on the days he really didn't have much to do. At some point, even Ada's members wondered if you were already dating and just didn't mention it, hoping everyone would assume.

Even if he wasn't oblivious to your feelings for him now, it didn't make him any less anxious the moment he asked you out, what if you decided you didn't want him anymore? How could he face you after you turned him down? So on one of your dates he decided to ease his heart and talk about how he really felt, and with one of the happiest smiles you've ever seen him have, you accepted his confession.

“Hey, I know this is pretty sudden, but I can't keep it to myself any longer, I'm in love with you, and I'd love to go out with you, that's if you accept my feelings. How about it? It's not such a bad idea, right?”.

☾ Author's note: Blue salvia is a flower that means "thinking of you" . Pls reblog and follow if you want, I hope you have a lovely day or night. :) ☆

All works belong to @ flxwxr-bxy don't copy, translate or repost in other sites without my permission. Thanks ♡

#bsd x reader #chuuya x reader #ranpo x reader #bsd x gender neutral reader #chuuya x gn reader #Ranpo x gender neutral reader

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barbi2709 · 1 year

Text

𝟘𝕏𝟙=𝕃𝕆𝕍𝔼𝕊𝕆ℕ𝔾: 𝕀 𝕂𝕟𝕠𝕨 𝕀 𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕖 𝕐𝕠𝕦 ♡

Paring: TXT ot5 x fem!reader (Separately)

Genre: 0X1=LOVESONG MV AU, 80's Au

Synopsis: 5 boys with problems at home, some more serious than others. Fate brought them together to find comfort among themselves, the different circumstances led them to form an unique connection, one that would never be broken.

Not even by the adversities of the future.

WC: 892

WARNIGNS!!!: In each episode there will be mention of serious issues such as domestic abuse, abortion, physical abuse, mention of drugs, alcohol, sex, inappropriate language among others; if you are not comfortable reading this kind of situations, I will kindly ask you not to read this fanfic.

Taglist: If you want to be on the tag list for all the chapters or for a specific member, tell me in the comments and I'll add you ♥♥♥

A/n: Holaaaa, so i was watching the Lovesong MV and the idea just came to my head so here I am :), hope you like this, this is the prologue of the series, like, this is what happened before all of the chapters so you can have a little context of what happened jsjs, let's start

(Remember that English isn't my first language so if there's any mistakes let me know)

The 80s are an era that is remembered, loved and missed to this day, or well,at least that's how most people perceive it.

5 boys who had to go through thousands of different situations at their young age, live with the fear and disappointment of having to go home every day, having to endure the shouting, the hateful looks, the insults, the beatings, or being treated as if you did not exist.

Five young boys worried about surviving in their miserable reality instead of living as any person their age would, carry all their problems with them; and without knowing how, they have managed to understand and support each other, realizing that despite their different situations, they are almost completely identical, young people who want to be free, to be able to live their lives normally.

At the moment they were in their hiding place, an abandoned building they had found some time ago; in time it became their meeting place, and everyone gave his sign to each and every corner of the place, so that it became a special place for them, one whose existence was shared only by the boys.

—Let's escape. —Yeonjun's voice echoed through the place, his friends, who were busy with other things, immediately turned to see him, stunned by their friend's sudden idea.

—What? —Soobin asked, frowning, as the others watched curiously.

—Let's escape —repeated the black-haired man with a smile on his face while looking at his friends—. Just think 'bout it, we could live here until we have a stable home, get a part-time job. We … we can make it work. —he looked at his friends expectantly, praying that one of them would accept his idea, no matter how crazy it sounded.

—Why your sudden proposal?. —asked Taehyun, his big doe eyes looking intensely at Yeonjun while Kai and Beomgyu hummed in agreement with the strawberry blonde guy.

—Because I can't stand having to go back to that dump I once called home, and I know you can't either. —that was a conversation they had very often, they had the confidence to share what happened to them day by day, so they knew better than anyone how the other was doing.

A silence formed in the room, each one of the boys was absorbed in his thoughts while the eldest of them looked at them expectantly, although his hope was slowly descending when he saw the little reaction from his friends; yes, he could do it on his own, escape by himself and go to live there, but it wouldn't be the same, he wanted to do it together with his friends.

—Let's do it —again it was Soobin's voice that broke the silence that had formed, all eyes immediately turned to him as Yeonjun's face lit up and a smile settled on his face—. I-I mean, Yeonjun has a point, I doubt our parents would mind our disappearance. —the brown-haired boy clarified.

—How would we support ourselves financially?. —Kai asked, trying to reason before everyone else accepted the idea of escaping without a plan.

-I don't think money would be a problem — Beomgyu spoke, analyzing the situation before continuing—, Yeonjun has several years of savings just like Soobin and me, Yeonjun said we could look for a part-time job, besides Soobin and I could steal some amount from our parents. —suggested the boy.

-S-steal? —Soobin swallowed hard at hearing that word, his parents had raised him strictly to do exactly what they wanted, and stealing was definitely not part of the list, the memories of the times he took something insignificant without warning, and the punishments he had to go through for it made him shiver.

—Hey, it doesn't have to be too big an amount —Beomgyu assured him as he saw the fear that crossed the boy's eyes, while hugging him by the shoulders to comfort him—. Besides, your parents won't see you again to punish you. —the brown-haired boy seemed to think about it for a few moments and then nodded his head in agreement.

—Do yall agree with this? —Yeonjun asked one last time as he looked at the guys, wanting to make sure that they would all be together on this, seeing how they all nodded their heads, he couldn't help but smile—. It's a done deal then, we're leaving today. —he said with a big smile on his face, spreading his happiness to his friends.

—I'll pick you up after Soobin's bedtime —Beomgyu teased with a sly smile on his face, the brown-haired boy couldn't help but blush at the mention of his schedule, but his blush only increased when he heard the laughter of the other boys—. So you'd better be ready by then, you know I hate waiting.

—We'll be there. —Taehyun assured with a nod of his head, the corners of his lips raised slightly in a soft smile.

The boys said their goodbyes so they could prepare everything they would need, there was a lot to do and not much time to execute it, each headed home immediately, excitement and adrenaline coursing through their veins.

Finally they would be free, finally they could have a normal life as far as they could,

Finally they would have a change for the better in their lives.

So...

Who do you want to escape with?:

𝟘𝕏𝟙=𝕃𝕆𝕍𝔼𝕊𝕆ℕ𝔾: 𝕀 𝕂𝕟𝕠𝕨 𝕀 𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕖 𝕐𝕠𝕦 || Choi Soobin... Coming soon

𝟘𝕏𝟙=𝕃𝕆𝕍𝔼𝕊𝕆ℕ𝔾: 𝕀 𝕂𝕟𝕠𝕨 𝕀 𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕖 𝕐𝕠𝕦 || Choi Yeonjun... Coming soon

𝟘𝕏𝟙=𝕃𝕆𝕍𝔼𝕊𝕆ℕ𝔾: 𝕀 𝕂𝕟𝕠𝕨 𝕀 𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕖 𝕐𝕠𝕦 || Choi Beomgyu... Coming soon

𝟘𝕏𝟙=𝕃𝕆𝕍𝔼𝕊𝕆ℕ𝔾: 𝕀 𝕂𝕟𝕠𝕨 𝕀 𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕖 𝕐𝕠𝕦 || Kang Taehyun... Coming soon

𝟘𝕏𝟙=𝕃𝕆𝕍𝔼𝕊𝕆ℕ𝔾: 𝕀 𝕂𝕟𝕠𝕨 𝕀 𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕖 𝕐𝕠𝕦 || Huening Kai... Coming soon

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ecoamerica · 1 month

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youtube

Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!

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3-2-whump · 3 months

Note

Friend needs cheering up?! *busts in your window with your favorite food and drinks*

So gush about your favorite whump tropes!!! 👀

-- @whumperofworlds

Thank you 🥹 you brought my favorites I see!

*slurping and munching noises*

So, my favorite whump tropes…

Well, I love an unequal power dynamic. Especially when it comes to the NSFW side of things. Rarely is consent asked in these circumstances, and if it is, does the disadvantaged party really have any choice but to say yes? Do they have the freedom to say no?

I love bondage because I am a human being with eyes and a working blood circulatory system. Idk how to fully explain it, but when I saw Aladdin at the impressionable age of …what, like four?… that was it for me. Just didn’t know what it was called or that I didn’t have to be embarrassed about it until semi-recently.

I also love culture whump, particularly as it pertains to language barriers. I haven’t published anything on this blog about it yet, but in my personal copy of Whumpee and Whumper’s stories (Khaled and Thomas), they can’t understand each other. One has limited English comprehension, the other doesn’t even know what language his pet is speaking. Of course, this changes as the story goes on, Khaled becomes fluent and forgets his natal tongue (with some encouragement), and that makes it all the harder on him when he’s eventually rescued and returned to his family.

Hang on to your hats, everyone, shit’s about to get real under the cut

My love of culture whump and language barriers probably stems from my long-underaddressed adoption trauma. I only just realized as I began seriously writing whump this last year that I also had my culture and my mother tongue ripped away from me without my consent, and, like my Whumpee, I may never be able to fully reclaim it in a way I would have if I had grown up within its framework my entire life. (No wonder I always write about it!) That is why, when my Whumpee recovers, he is never the same person he was before he was taken. But he is doing better than he was, even though his tongue stumbles clumsily around words his siblings could say in their sleep. He is happy enough. And that is enough.

Wow, making me emotional again. But it feels good to kind of lore dump/give backstory about the author now and again. And I do feel kinda better. So thanks!

#whump asks #whump tropes #whump community #deep dive into authors backstory #culture whump #language barrier whump #loss of culture #adoption trauma #interracial adoption #intercultural adoption #writing is cheaper than therapy

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olderthannetfic · 5 months

Note

https://olderthannetfic.tumblr.com/post/736464662612344832/httpswwwtumblrcomolderthannetfic735990124795#notes

I based the language used in (both) asks on how the author had written on her social medias before during and after her books became available, and her stances to the things she herself believes in. As in, the author herself has called herself a diaspora, she herself calls herself 1st/2nd gen diaspora. From what I remember she was born as diaspora but mentioned that she spent most times in her home country so she herself used the 1st/2nd gen label. The author is an American diaspora though, if that means anything.

All my arguments about her book come from how the author put herself and her writing on a pedestal, mentioning herself how she'd use her status to write, with a standard she herself decided should be the goal. I can definitely understand how some people got the idea that I held "higher expectations of a POC authors writing when it comes to racism" or something because I didn't make it clear where my criticism came from, but no I did not do so because of her background.

It's a case of "I'll criticize people who claim they're a better writer while punching down on everyone else for doing it wrong, and then claiming they'll write a book that's going to tackle the issues of racism/sexism/queerphobia/ableism much better than any other books out there, with an incredibly progressive main character and hold them to the standard they themselves set up but within the book. But then ends up not only failing, but unironically making the lead have an unquestioned racist view. " ... Just read the other follow-up submission, I explained with more detailed what the issue in the writing and framing was. https://olderthannetfic.tumblr.com/post/736443105288519680/httpsolderthannetfictumblrcompost73599012479#notes

It was a very "I'm not racist but..." part of the story. Like I said, it could have been a really good exploration that even people who're progressive can still hold prejudicial views and then realizing they hold them, especially with how hard it sticks out amongst the rest of the story. But it just wasn't and it felt like the authors own views were reflected in how she wrote. And with how casually it's just left unquestioned in the book it really leaves a bad taste. I will even admit that at first I was intrigued and thought this was going to be a part of the leads journey. It wasn't.

This was a case of the author basically saying "Everything I believe is reflected in this book" all throughout, and then really messing up distancing the artist from the art by her own design.

On the American accusations: I'm not American and I don't live in America, but I also am a diaspora in the current country I live in. Only thing I would give you is that we don't use "diaspora" but that's more because I don't live in an Anglophone country, and the word used here is a synonym for "foreigner". I thought it was fairly obvious I have ESL syndrome lol. English isn't even my second language more like E3<L

In fact, if you hadn't been raised by this US-centric mentality of "there's whites and then there's POC and these are the only two kinds of categories in the world," you'd know that EVERYBODY hates EVERYBODY.

Not American. Still not under any illusion that that's the case. I've read history books. Really not understanding where you got the idea from that I had from my one description of specifically ONE person's writing. "Racial and ethnic hate is not something that only people born with blonde hair, lily-white skin, and light blue eyes can make others suffer through." Yay, we agree on something. As in, I 100% agree with you on this. I know I could probably just drop the name of the author and the books. But honestly I did some contemplation and there are two things that make me not do it. I'm just an anon, I have no reputation or name to keep clean or uphold, and I've been on the internet long enough and experienced enough of the absolute senseless dogpilling creatives get especially these days with how popular review bombings are, direct attacks and other harassment, and the not good environment social media has created for creatives misstepping, which includes twitter/x, tiktok, and youtube. Even if I believe that out of 100 people on here none would go and do that, the 101th person might decide to be an ass about it. The second reason, and the main reason I didn't just mention the book from the start is that the author herself has removed most mentions of her books on all her social media, they're still available but since it seems she's removed herself from her own writing I'll just respect it.

Tbh I gave enough info in my opinion that someone could probably find the books if they made a real attempt. The issue I mentioned has been handled by some of the people who reviewed the book.

As always, saying the name of the book will get people arguing about whether they agree with this interpretation of this book.

Not sharing the name will get people remembering either the last time some sanctimonious author was annoying or the last time some clueless reviewer missed the point, depending on which has annoyed them more recently.

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hyperref-lex-ia · 5 days

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lost of common reactions i get as a mute person

all the following are peoples reaction when they assume i am deaf, the most common assumption

- flustered and lifts hands to try and sign and then lowers them when they realize they dont know ASL

- flustered and starts to sputter and talk before settling on mouthing things at me

- mouths “can you lip read”

- talks really loud at me (which wouldnt do much if i was deaf so idk)

- goes to find something to write on

- sometimes if i type on my phone in my notes when i need to say something other than yes or no people will go to literally take my phone from me to type back instead of literally anything else

- signs some of the more common sign, i get thank you a lot (especially in customer service situations, which is where most of these happen)

- if it is someone on the street saying something and they assume im deaf when i sign at them they usually just disregard me which is actually really nice

these next ones are when people dont assume im deaf, which is rarer

- talks to me normal

- talks to me like im dumb

heres a few nice incidents

- guy asked me if i was mute in spanish and i nodded and he asked if i knew spanish and i was like not really lol (live in a heavily hispanic area so i picked up on enough to understand) and he switches to english and shares about a talk he had gone to recently about mutism

- girl working at sonic assumed i was deaf and ran inside just to grab her phone to help me which i thought was really sweet so i just didnt correct her

- just today i was using the self checkout at a gas station and the guy behind the register sees me getting frustrated with the card reader and slides over a piece of receipt paper that says “tap works better” and i am like “i dont have tap” and o decide to just cancel the self checkout and move to him cause hes got good vibes and he holds the bag up and raises an eyebrow allowing me to have a choice in it which i dont often get. when i am leaving he signs “have a good day” super slow and obviously practiced a lot, and i thought the fact that he obviously learned that just in case this happened made me really happy

- every time someone has happened to know ASL in public, its always surprising how many hearing/verbal people know ASL, almost always because they are CODA

- the enthusiastic gay man at my eye doctor who got so excited when he saw i signed even thiugh he doesnt know it, because he thought it was so cool

- every person who goes “oh you speak ASL” and then immediately thinks about thay sentence and kind of 404 errors out as they realize you cant speak ASL

- the tiny middle aged mexican woman who has worked the store at my school the entire time ive been going there who knows me because i always go there for caffeine and snacks, and manages to always communicate with me despite a couple language barriers and will often berate me if i dont get water with my caffeine or if i dont get food, and who also wishes me happy holiday for every holiday that comes around, and was also very visibly worried when i had to rely on a cane for a few months

- my painting professor who always takes so much pressure off because hes so blunt, when i came in with a cane everyone danced around asking about it and he walks in and goes “what the hell happened to you??”, the most recent thing that made me laugh is we were talking and i was using TTS and as we are walking into the studios he goes “im gonna go talk with Ronnie, give your thumbs a break” and then we both started laughing

the worst interaction ive had

- had one of my professors numbers which happens sometimes because it makes life easier and she texted me out of the blue saying she “had a dream she was at my wedding and i spoke my vows” with heart emojis and i did not know this woman at all and i was like…what the fuck…not only is that unprofessional but also ableist

lastly shout out to my friends who translate for me purely off lip reading who dont know ASL

#long post #mutism #selective mutism #just getting thoughts out honestly

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kkaewrites · 2 years

Text

fall in love with me [1] — itoshi sae x reader !

warnings. heavy manga spoilers & ooc itoshi sae.

content. fake dating, (slight) enemies to lovers.

you consider yourself mediocre.

to be the best is to devote oneself to their craft, but you’re not that kind of person. since you don’t feel passion over a particular thing, the best you could do is be good at everything. you’re good at english. you’re good at arts. you’re good at literature. you’re good at science. you’re good at math. there wasn’t anything in the world that you, l/n y/n, couldn’t do.

however, if one talks about talent, you’ve got nothing. there will always be people who will be better than you. people who are gifted. people like itoshi sae, who devoted himself to soccer.

you don’t envy him. no, not one bit. you consider it foolish that his strength serves as a weakness. he was only good at soccer— no, he’s japan’s best. and while you do think that it’s stupid to be focused on only one thing, you also admire that side of him. he’s passionate over the sport, so he devotes his whole self to it, leaving no space for anything else on his life.

you wanted to meet him. not because you had a crush on him like just any other japanese woman, but because you wanted to see what passion looks like. you wanted to see what face he would make while he plays. maybe by then you’d realize what you’d like to do for the rest of your life.

“are you sure you’re not coming?“ your mom asked. from your peripheral version, you could see her spraying on some perfume on her wrist. you’re supposed to go visit some relatives in spain, together with your parents, but you declined the offer.

today’s the fight between u-20 japan and blue lock, after all. you don’t have to watch to know that itoshi sae would win, but you wanted to see how he would win. you wanted to see what face would the best player of japan make once he wins.

“no. hug grandma for me, though.”

“do you really need to watch the game?” your dad poses the question this time. “if you want to meet itoshi sae, i could—”

“no. i want to see him play.”

“alright, then.”

you’re lucky. if you wanted to meet itoshi sae, your parents would have made that possible with a click of their fingers. that’s how powerful they are. as the daughter of a billionaire CEO, you also have this kind of power. you can have anything you desire in the world. anything except passion, you guess.

“we’ll see you in a week, love.” your mom kisses your cheeks and you wave her goodbye. just like that, they headed to spain easily as if travelling to a nearby city. you then sighed.

i have the resources but i have nothing to do with it. i really am just mediocre. lukewarm. gray.

“looks like the ball went to... itoshi sae!”

the crowd went wild. you, on the other hand, has no intense reaction over what just happened. you’ve expected this already. at this point, whenever itoshi sae has the ball, it’s just normal. it’s blah. not because he’s not good— you’ve got to acknowledge the man’s talent at the very least — but because he doesn’t look like he’s having fun at all.

he looks dead. there was no love while he plays. so, as you come into this conclusion, there was one feeling that settles in your gut: disappointment.

the match was underwhelming, even though everyone around you thought differently. however, you came to this match expecting that itoshi sae would teach you what passion looks like, and yet he does the opposite. he plays as if he’s completely fallen out of love with the sport. he teaches you what passion isn’t.

what a boring prodigy.

when he scored a goal, everyone erupted into shouts of elation. they think he’s amazing. heck, even the blue lock men probably think that, too. but to you? it was mediocre. it was lukewarm. it was gray.

the only thing you’ve learned today is that itoshi sae is the same as you.

at first you thought that maybe he’s considered the best because of his talent and devotion. that he’s the best because of his passion for soccer, but it seems that he’s only like that because he doesn’t want to lose. at this point, he’s just playing and winning because it’s expected of him. so, when you take away the shiny names and medals of awards, you’ve come to realize that itoshi sae is hollow.

if he doesn’t love the sport he’s best at, is there any hope for him to love anything else?

probably not.

the first half ends and your frown deepens. the commentator’s words flew past your ears because you weren’t in the mood to listen. you can’t believe that you cancelled all your plans just to watch him play, only to be let down like this.

“hey, that number 11 is my son!” a man says from behind you, his voice interrupting your line of thoughts. having nothing better to do, you scanned the field for that so-called number 11, only to find him on the blue lock team. the ones against itoshi sae, who surprisingly took the lead this first half.

isagi yoichi, huh?

“what’re you doing meguru! you’ve got to score more goals! are you a striker or not?!” another person from behind you yells. when you checked where this meguru was, it turned out that he’s at the blue lock team as well. he’s the one with the cute haircut and an easy going smile.

bachira meguru.

the parents of these two indulged in a short conversation with each other, but you didn’t listen any further. when the second half starts, your eyes were no longer trained on the person you originally came here for. instead, it’s on the blue lock team. the ones who play as if their lives depended on it; the ones who look like they’re having fun.

this is blue lock’s win, itoshi sae.

an hour has passed since the game concluded, with the blue lock team winning. there was no surprise there; the game only felt alive because of them, after all. together with that shidou ryusei that the u-20 japan team decided to sub in last minute. nevertheless, after the game, you stayed. for no better reason than to talk to itoshi sae.

“y/n–chan! so sorry we made you wait.” itoshi’s manager greets, offering you a nervous smile. he was holding a bunch of paper and seemed to be in a rush. maybe as to not make you wait any longer, you suppose.

a few steps from behind him was none other than itoshi sae. he seems to have changed his clothes already, with his usual deadpan look plastered on his flawless face. if he didn’t have a soccer career, he might’ve been a model. or maybe not. his attitude wasn’t very warm.

“that’s okay. i didn’t wait long.”

“oh, sae–chan, this is y/n–chan. daughter of the well known billionaire l/n kenji.”

itoshi sae stares at you wordlessly. you, of course, stared back. no one dared to greet first and this staring contest served as a reminder of how prideful the both of you are.

“s—so! let’s go ahead and have dinner.”

“wait,” you stopped the manager from dragging the both of you away. there was no need for fake pleasantries. you weren’t here to be friends with someone like itoshi sae. in fact, it’s quite the opposite. “i want to speak with itoshi sae.”

“sorry. i don’t do autographs.”

“i’m not asking you for one.”

“then,” he crosses his arms. “what do you want from me?”

“manager–san, will you please give us a moment?” itoshi’s manager looked back and forth between you and itoshi. he’s aware that you asked him kindly, but his eyes still awaited his boss’ orders. hell would break loose if he left the both of you together, but one look from itoshi sae and he knew that there was nothing he could do about it.

once you’re left alone, itoshi questions, “so?”

“why do you play soccer when you’ve clearly fallen out of love with it?” a direct question. there’s no need to sugarcoat because doing so will change the essence of it. that’s the sole reason.

he doesn’t answer. the blank look on his face gave nothing away, but that’s just how he is.

“you’re a prodigy and japan’s best soccer player, so why do you look so hollow and dead when you play?” where is your passion? or is there any, to begin with? were other questions you wanted to ask, but he hasn’t even answered the first one yet so there was no assurance that he’d even answer the other ones.

“listen,” he states after a few moments of silence. “why do you care?”

because we’re the same. we’re both hollow.

itoshi sae could have taught you how to have passion, and even if he couldn’t, then the blue lock team could have been your inspiration. so you have no idea why you’re chasing over this unfathomable man that seems to be your own reflection. you have no idea why you’d find peace in this chaos. you have no idea what prompted you to ask him these ridiculous questions.

you have no idea why you’d think that you’d feel whole with itoshi sae’s hollowness.

and before you could stop yourself, you spoke. “itoshi sae... fall in love with me.”

notes. this might not make sense. it doesn’t make sense to me but the monster inside me is telling me to write this, nonetheless. idk how to use tumblr & i’m only publishing this bc i want to create a masterlist thing, but if someone stumbles upon this work of mine, then i’ll tell you not to fret because this’ll be at least 3 parts. i’ll elaborate in the next chap ig !

ִ ࣪𖤐 masterlist ! • ִ ࣪𖤐 next !

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