#and i was like ‘oh absolutely correct’ | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

aspenmissing · 2 days ago

Note

Hi! First of all, love your work. Second off all, could you write arcane characters with an S/O who has a really big dog? Kangal type of shit?

ᴀ ᴍᴀɴꜱ ʙᴇꜱᴛ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ

ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴠɪᴋ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ᴊɪɴx/ᴘᴏᴡᴅᴇʀ || ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ || 5135 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ || ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ɴ/ᴀ

ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ ᴀɴꜱᴡᴇʀ: ʜᴇʟʟᴏ ᴍʏ ᴅᴇᴀʀ! ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ᴠᴇʀʏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ, ɪ'ᴍ ɢʟᴀᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏɪɴɢ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ! ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴇᴅ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ ᴛʜɪꜱ, ɪᴛ ᴡᴀꜱ Qᴜɪᴛᴇ ꜰᴜɴɴʏ ᴛᴏ ɪᴍᴀɢɪɴᴇ! <3

JAYCE

It had been a few months since you and Jayce had started seeing each other, and things were going better than you ever could have imagined. The two of you had settled into a natural rhythm, full of easy conversation, playful teasing, and quiet moments that made your heart ache in the best way.

You’d told him plenty about yourself—your work, your hobbies, your dog—but you’d deliberately left out one small, important detail.

The breed.

Jayce, being Jayce, had assumed you had a small or medium-sized dog. Something manageable, perhaps a lively terrier or an affectionate spaniel. Maybe even a lapdog that could curl up in your arms.

You didn’t correct him.

You were waiting for this exact moment.

Tonight, for the first time, Jayce was coming over to your apartment for dinner. He’d been over the moon when you invited him, eager to see more of your world outside of stolen hours together in the city or at his place.

"Looking forward to finally meeting your little pup," he said with a grin as he knocked on your door, completely oblivious.

You barely held back a laugh. Oh, he has no idea.

With a smirk tugging at your lips, you unlocked the door and cracked it open. You didn’t even get a word out before chaos erupted.

A massive blur of thick, golden-red fur and sheer muscle burst through the gap like a wrecking ball, launching itself at Jayce with the force of a battering ram. A deep, earth-shaking bark echoed through the hallway as Atlas, your beloved Tibetan Mastiff, tackled your poor, unsuspecting boyfriend straight to the ground.

Jayce barely had time to let out a startled yell before he was slammed onto his back, pinned beneath what could only be described as a small bear in canine form.

"What the—?! Y/N! HELP!" Jayce wheezed as he was absolutely smothered by Atlas’s overwhelming enthusiasm.

You burst into laughter, doubling over at the sight of your massive dog sprawled across Jayce’s broad chest, eagerly licking his face with sloppy, wet kisses.

Atlas, towering and fluffy, easily weighed over 75 kilograms of sheer power and fur. His thick mane—so full it looked almost leonine—puffed out around his enormous head, making him seem even bigger than he already was. His massive paws pressed down on Jayce like he was made of paper, his heavy tail wagging so hard it nearly knocked over a side table.

Jayce, absolutely helpless, flailed beneath him. "Y/N, call him off! He’s—he’s—there’s SO MUCH OF HIM!"

Tears of laughter pricked your eyes. "I told you I had a dog!"

"You didn’t tell me you had a MOUNTAIN!" he shot back, voice muffled as Atlas joyfully slobbered all over him, his deep, pleased rumbles vibrating through his chest.

Atlas was having the best day of his life. His enormous, fluffy tail wagged harder as he panted happily, thoroughly besotted with this new human.

Finally, you took pity on your poor boyfriend. "Alright, Atlas, off."

With a low, reluctant huff, Atlas lifted his head and, after one final suffocating lick to Jayce’s cheek, heaved his massive body off of him.

Jayce sat up, breathless, dazed, and utterly covered in dog slobber.

You bit your lip to keep from laughing again.

Jayce ran a hand through his hair, which now had a considerable amount of drool in it, and turned to you with a look that was equal parts betrayal and astonishment. "THIS is Atlas?" he questioned. "This isn’t a dog, this is a whole lion!"

Atlas, completely unfazed by the accusation, plopped his gigantic rear down beside Jayce and gave him a big, toothy, doggy grin, as if expecting more attention.

Jayce blinked at him, eyes wide, before slowly turning back to you. "This is what you meant when you said you had a dog? You left out the part where he’s the size of a horse!"

You grinned as you crouched down next to Atlas, scratching behind his enormous, fluffy ears. "Would you have come over if I told you?"

Jayce opened his mouth, then shut it, clearly re-evaluating his life choices. "Honestly? Maybe not." He let out a sigh, wiping some of the excess drool off his face with his sleeve. "But now that I’m here, I guess I don’t have a choice."

Atlas let out a pleased huff, his tail sweeping across the floor in happy thumps.

Jayce looked at him warily. "He’s not gonna, like… eat me, is he?"

You snorted. "No, Jayce. He’s just obsessed with people he likes. Consider this his way of welcoming you to the pack."

Jayce glanced at Atlas, who was staring at him adoringly, eyes bright, tongue lolling out in an expression of pure joy. Despite himself, Jayce sighed and hesitantly reached out a hand.

Atlas immediately leaned into his touch, practically melting under the attention, his deep, pleased rumble vibrating through his whole body.

"Yeah, yeah," Jayce muttered, watching in mild horror as Atlas lifted a massive paw and plopped it onto his lap, effectively trapping him. "I guess he's kinda cute… in a 'he could kill me in my sleep' sort of way."

You laughed, leaning over to press a kiss to Jayce’s cheek. "You’ll get used to him."

Jayce gave you a long, dramatic sigh. Then, with an air of complete resignation, he reached out and scratched Atlas under his chin, prompting a deep, rumbling groan of bliss from your oversized beast.

"Yeah," Jayce muttered, shaking his head as Atlas nuzzled into him, tail wagging harder than ever. "I think I already have."

VIKTOR

The morning had not gone as planned. Y/N had meticulously arranged for Brutus, her colossal Irish Wolfhound, to be watched while she worked in the lab, but the sitter had cancelled last minute. With no other choice, she had wrangled all 80 kilos of shaggy, excitable muscle into Piltover’s prestigious Academy, leading him down the corridors as he practically dragged her along, nails clicking loudly against the polished floors. Heads turned, students and professors alike eyeing the enormous beast with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension.

Brutus was a sweetheart, really, but he had no concept of his own size. The second the doors to the lab swung open, the enormous dog’s ears perked up. His dark eyes locked onto Viktor, his long tail beginning to thump against Y/N’s leg with increasing intensity. Before she could react, Brutus let out a deep, delighted woof and tore free from her grasp, galloping forward like a force of nature.

“Brutus, no—!” Y/N yelped, lunging forward too late.

Viktor barely had time to glance up before he was nearly flattened, only managing to brace himself against the desk with his free hand as Brutus barreled into him. His cane wobbled slightly under the sudden shift in weight, and he instinctively tightened his grip on it, trying to maintain his balance. The sheer force of the impact made him stumble slightly, his knuckles whitening as he steadied himself. Tail wagging so hard it rattled the nearby equipment, Brutus let out a high-pitched whine of joy, his massive paws lifting slightly off the ground in an attempt to get even closer.

Y/N was there in an instant, desperately grabbing Brutus by his thick scruff and trying to pull him back. “Brutus, off! You’re going to knock him over—Viktor, are you alright?” Her voice was filled with panic, eyes darting to his leg in worry.

To her surprise, Viktor let out a breathless chuckle, one hand braced on the desk while the other tentatively reached up to scratch behind Brutus’ ears. “Well, this is quite the enthusiastic greeting,” he mused, amusement flickering in his golden eyes. There was a warmth to his tone, an openness that made Y/N pause, her grip on Brutus loosening slightly.

Brutus groaned in bliss at the attention, his enormous body relaxing as he flopped against Viktor’s legs. Y/N’s heart lurched. “Brutus, you’re going to hurt his leg—get off him!” she pleaded, trying to haul the behemoth away, her muscles straining against his sheer size.

Viktor, however, waved a hand dismissively, adjusting his stance slightly so his weight remained evenly distributed. “It is alright, Y/N. He is just happy to see me, yes?” He smirked as Brutus, completely ignoring Y/N’s protests, leaned in and licked his face, leaving a wet smear across his cheek. Viktor wrinkled his nose but still chuckled. “It seems he recognises my scent.”

Y/N groaned, still wrestling with the dog’s thick fur. “Of course he does. You’re all over me, so when I come home, you’re the smell he picks up on most.”

Viktor hummed, clearly enjoying that revelation far too much. “I see, I see.” His smirk deepened, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Then perhaps I should leave even more of my scent, hm?”

Y/N’s face burned, but before she could snap back, Brutus, completely unfazed by the exchange, let out a pleased huff and finally settled at Viktor’s feet, his head resting on Viktor’s lap as though he had just claimed him as his own. Viktor gave Y/N a sly grin, fingers running through the dog’s shaggy fur with slow, thoughtful strokes. “I believe you have lost this battle, Y/N. Brutus has chosen.”

Y/N groaned, dropping her forehead into her palm. “I can’t believe this. Now I have two troublemakers to deal with.”

Viktor laughed, full and rich, as he scratched Brutus behind the ears. “Oh, I assure you, I am much less work than this one.” He tapped Brutus’ nose, earning a happy chuff in response.

Y/N sighed, crossing her arms as she watched the scene before her. Viktor, looking more at ease than she’d seen him in weeks, a small smile playing at his lips as Brutus lay sprawled across his feet like a contented lapdog. It was ridiculous. It was unfair. It was—

Adorable.

She exhaled in defeat, shaking her head. “Fine. But you’re helping me walk him home later.”

Viktor raised a brow, smirking. “With pleasure.”

Y/N eyed him suspiciously. “Even if he decides to bolt and you have to keep up?”

Viktor tapped his cane against the floor with a small grin. “I will manage.”

Brutus let out a happy, rumbling sigh, and Y/N knew in that moment she was never going to win against the combined efforts of these two troublemakers.

JAYVIK

Jayce stood with his arms crossed, glancing at Viktor with a sceptical expression as they stood outside Y/N’s home. "She’s exaggerating, right? A ‘giant beast’? How bad can it be?"

Viktor shifted his weight onto his good leg, gripping his cane as he shot Jayce a knowing look. "You say that now, but I have learned not to underestimate Y/N’s words. If she says it is a ‘beast,’ it probably is."

Jayce scoffed, running a hand through his hair. "Pfft. It’s just a dog."

Before Viktor could respond, the front door swung open, and Y/N stood there with a wide grin, leaning casually against the frame. "Finally! Took you two long enough. Come on in, the dogs have been dying to meet you."

Jayce and Viktor exchanged a glance before cautiously stepping inside. The house was warm and welcoming, the scent of something sweet lingering in the air—maybe tea, maybe fresh bread.

But they weren’t focused on that. Their eyes immediately began scanning the room, looking for the so-called ‘giant beast’ Y/N had warned them about.

And then, from around the corner, a tiny dog trotted into view.

A minuscule, scruffy little Yorkshire Terrier with a puffed-out chest and an attitude far too big for its size. Its wiry coat was a mix of tan and grey, ears perked high with excitement as it strutted forward like it owned the place.

Jayce blinked. "That’s it?"

Viktor tilted his head slightly, studying the tiny creature with an unimpressed look. "This is the ‘beast’?"

Y/N, clearly holding back laughter, crouched down and affectionately scratched behind the little dog’s ears. "Yep. That’s Titan."

Jayce let out a bark of laughter, crouching to the dog’s level. "Oh, come on, Y/N! You made it sound like you had some monster in here!"

Titan—despite being barely the size of Jayce’s forearm—stood proudly, his little tail wagging with confidence. He yapped excitedly and immediately tried to wrestle Jayce’s fingers, gnawing at them with all the ferocity of a tiny warrior.

Jayce grinned. "Oh yeah, real terrifying."

Viktor exhaled, leaning slightly on his cane. "I was expecting something… larger."

And then the ground shook.

A heavy thud echoed through the room.

Jayce and Viktor froze.

There was a sound of something massive moving—slow, deliberate steps, heavy paws pressing against the wooden floor. The air suddenly felt different, thick with an undeniable presence.

And then they saw it.

Emerging from the hallway, like some ancient guardian beast, was a dog so massive it practically had its own gravitational field. A Kangal, broad-shouldered and powerful, with a thick, cream-coloured coat and a dark mask over its face. Its sheer size dwarfed everything in the room, towering over the furniture.

It stared down at them with calm but all-knowing eyes—assessing, judging.

Viktor instinctively tightened his grip on his cane. Jayce slowly stood up, his laughter dying in his throat.

"...A-Are you sure that's not Titan?" Jayce asked, voice suddenly a lot quieter.

Y/N smirked, crossing her arms as the enormous Kangal sat down with a heavy huff, the sheer weight of it making the floor creak slightly. "Nope. That is Peanut."

There was a pause.

A long, painful pause.

Viktor pressed a hand over his face. "You switched their names on purpose, didn’t you?"

Y/N grinned, tilting her head innocently. "I have no idea what you mean."

Titan, the tiny Yorkshire Terrier, let out a high-pitched bark, as if personally mocking them.

Peanut—who could probably take down a fully grown man if he wanted to—merely blinked slowly before gently lowering himself onto the floor with a yawn, completely unbothered by the chaos.

Jayce swallowed hard, clearing his throat as he stepped slightly behind Viktor. "So… uh… he’s friendly, right?"

Y/N gave Peanut a few loving pats on his massive head. "Oh, absolutely. Wouldn’t hurt a fly."

To prove her point, Peanut lowered his massive head onto his paws, staring up at them with the softest, kindest eyes imaginable. His tail gave a single slow wag, clearly too relaxed to care about their presence.

Jayce let out a relieved sigh. "Alright, okay. That’s not so—"

His words were cut off as something launched at his leg.

Titan, the real beast of the house, latched onto Jayce’s ankle with all the force of a miniature hellhound, snarling like he was taking down an intruder.

"WHAT THE HELL—GET IT OFF!" Jayce yelped, shaking his leg in a panic as Titan clung on with surprising strength.

Viktor, for once, looked genuinely amused. "Ah, I see now," he mused, watching the tiny terror gnaw on Jayce’s boot. "Peanut is the gentle one. This is the monster."

Y/N doubled over in laughter. "Yeah, yeah, Peanut’s a sweetheart. But Titan?" She smirked. "He’s the real beast of the house."

Jayce finally managed to shake Titan off, the tiny dog landing gracefully on all fours and immediately puffing out his chest as if he had won the battle. He let out a triumphant bark, clearly enjoying Jayce’s suffering.

Peanut, still sprawled on the floor, let out a long, lazy sigh, completely unbothered.

Jayce ran a hand down his face. "I hate this house."

Viktor smirked, giving Peanut a few careful pats on the head before glancing at Jayce. "I, on the other hand, rather like it."

Titan barked again, eyes locked onto Jayce like he was ready for round two.

Jayce narrowed his eyes. "Don’t you dare."

Y/N grinned, wrapping an arm around both of them and pulling them closer. "Oh, relax, big guy. You’ll get used to it."

Titan wagged his tiny tail. Peanut yawned.

And Viktor? He was definitely enjoying this far too much.

VANDER

The first time Y/N waltzed into The Last Drop with a mountain of fur trailing behind her, everyone assumed she’d brought a bear into the bar. The sheer size of the beast alone made Mylo shriek and scramble onto a table, clutching his drink like it was his last lifeline. Claggor, ever the level-headed one, simply blinked in astonishment, while Vi and Powder immediately rushed over to the dog with stars in their eyes.

“Christ love, what the hell is that?” Vander had asked, arms crossed, eyebrow arched as he took in the massive St. Bernard panting happily at her side.

She grinned, scratching behind the dog’s ear. “This? This is Vander.”

Vander blinked. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Meet Vander.”

Silence.

Then Powder gasped. “She named him after you! Oh my gods, she thinks you look like a dog!”

Y/N snickered as the kids erupted into laughter. Vander pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh, muttering something about 'not getting paid enough for this,' despite the fact that he didn’t get paid at all.

From that day on, the beast—Vander the dog—became a permanent fixture at The Last Drop. He would amble behind the bar and flop down with a heavy thud, taking up an alarming amount of space. Vi often used him as a pillow, Powder climbed all over him, and even Mylo begrudgingly warmed up to the enormous canine (after realising Vander the dog wasn’t, in fact, out to eat him).

Powder, however, took things a step further. She didn’t just climb on Vander—she practically lived on him. If she wasn’t sitting on his back while he walked around, she was draped over him like a particularly lazy cat. Sometimes, she’d ride him through the bar like a horse, giggling as he lumbered along, completely unbothered. She even tried tying little ribbons in his fur at one point, though Vander (the man) put his foot down when he saw the dog parading around with bright pink bows on his ears.

“Powder, get off him,” Vi groaned one evening as Vander the dog ambled past, Powder sitting proudly on his back like she was the queen of The Last Drop.

“But he doesn’t mind!” Powder protested, wrapping her arms around the dog’s thick neck. “Do ya, big guy?”

Vander the dog huffed in amusement, his tail wagging slightly.

Human Vander shot Y/N a look. “You’re letting this happen?”

She shrugged. “He likes it. Besides, it's free entertainment.”

The only problem? Every time Y/N called for her dog, chaos ensued.

“Vander! Come here, boy!”

Two heads turned. The dog’s and the man’s.

Y/N bit back a grin as she watched them both react simultaneously. The dog perked up, tongue lolling, and trotted towards her eagerly. The man, on the other hand, groaned and shot her a look. “Really?”

She shrugged, completely unapologetic. “What? You do kinda look alike.”

More than once, it led to absolute confusion. Like when Powder excitedly shouted, “Vander, wanna treat?” and both Vanders turned to her with equal enthusiasm. Or when Y/N would scold, “Vander, get your ass off the floor!” and human Vander grumbled, “I AM standing up,” while the dog remained unbothered, snoring at her feet.

The worst, however, was when Y/N, exhausted from a long day, absentmindedly muttered, “Good boy,” while patting the dog’s head—only to look up and see human Vander standing there with an unreadable expression.

“Uh—”

“Y’know what? Not even gonna ask,” Vander said, shaking his head before grabbing a pint. “I need a drink.”

Despite all the mix-ups, Vander the man and Vander the dog had an unspoken understanding. The dog was his unofficial replacement whenever he was busy, acting as a very fluffy bouncer when needed. And in return, Vander (the man) made sure the dog had the best scraps from the bar. More than once, Y/N had caught him sneaking the beast a particularly large cut of meat, muttering, "Don’t tell anyone, big guy."

As much as Vander (the man) would complain, Y/N knew he secretly loved the giant fluffball. Because, at the end of the day, she often caught him sneaking the dog extra treats or murmuring, “Good boy,” when he thought no one was looking.

And if Vander (the man) would grumble when the dog responded faster to his name than he did, well… that was just a bonus.

SILCO

"You what?" Silco's voice was flat, but there was a hint of trepidation beneath it.

"I need you to watch Goliath for a few hours." Y/N stood in front of his desk, arms crossed in a way that left little room for argument.

Silco pinched the bridge of his nose. "And why, exactly, am I—crime lord of Zaun, mastermind of an entire revolution—reduced to a dog sitter?"

"Because you're the only one I trust with him."

Silco narrowed his eyes. "I highly doubt that."

"Also because Sevika said, and I quote, ‘I’d rather risk being blew up my Jinx than deal with that overgrown mutt again.’"

Silco turned his gaze to Sevika, who merely took a swig of her drink and grumbled, "Thing nearly sat on my lungs last time. Couldn’t breathe for five minutes."

Silco sighed, waving a dismissive hand. "Fine. But if he eats anything valuable, you’re replacing it."

Y/N beamed. "You’re the best!" With that, she whistled, and a low rumbling growl preceded the appearance of Goliath—a Bernese Mountain Dog of utterly ridiculous proportions.

Thick, glossy black fur with rust and white patches made him look even larger as he lumbered into the room. His huge paws clicked against the floor, and his golden-brown eyes gleamed with excitement as he made a beeline for Silco.

The crime lord tensed. "That is not a dog. That is a bear."

Goliath panted happily, his fluffy tail wagging as he sniffed at Silco’s coat before promptly leaning against him.

"Good luck!" Y/N called over her shoulder as she made a swift exit, leaving Silco alone with the beast.

Two Hours Later

Silco was mid-conversation with Sevika, poring over a map of Zaun when he felt it.

A weight. A considerable weight.

At first, it was just a slight pressure against his legs, then a shift of movement. Then—

He glanced down.

Goliath—all 55 kilograms of him—was slowly crawling into his lap.

Silco's lips parted in silent disbelief. "…Is he—?"

Sevika’s eyebrow twitched. "Uh, boss?"

Silco remained utterly still as the massive dog wiggled his way into position, draping his front paws over Silco’s legs, his broad head resting against the crime lord’s chest.

The sheer force of the dog’s weight nearly tipped Silco’s chair back. A very real fear of toppling over and dying beneath a mountain of fur hit him.

"Unbelievable," he muttered under his breath.

Sevika, to her credit, was trying very hard not to laugh, but her shoulders were shaking.

Silco glared at her. "Say a word, and you lose another limb."

"Not sayin’ a word," she muttered, her smirk betraying her amusement.

With painstaking slowness, Silco tried to shift the dog’s weight, only for Goliath to release a deep, satisfied sigh and settle in even more.

Sevika let out a sharp snort. "Boss, I think he’s claiming you."

"He is smothering me," Silco deadpanned.

"Same thing."

"Am I the mountain in this scenario?" Silco muttered to himself, exasperated. "Because he is certainly climbing me like one."

Goliath let out a deep huff and burrowed his face into Silco’s coat, completely oblivious to the crime lord’s suffering.

Sevika completely lost it. She threw her head back, laughing in a way Silco rarely heard. "He likes you, boss!"

Silco leaned around the massive dog to fix her with a flat stare. "That is not reassuring."

At that exact moment, the door swung open, and Y/N stepped inside, taking in the sight before her—

Silco, half-buried under Goliath, looking utterly done. Sevika, doubled over in laughter.

Y/N grinned. "Aww, he chose you!"

Silco slowly turned his exhausted, soul-deep stare on her. "Take. Your. Dog."

Y/N only snorted, reaching out to scratch behind Goliath’s ears. "You’re such a good boy, aren’t you?"

Goliath thumped his tail, utterly unbothered.

Sevika grinned. "So, boss, what’s next? You taking him on walks? Maybe getting him a matching coat?"

Silco let out a long, suffering sigh. "I’m never forgiving you for this, Y/N."

Y/N, still grinning, scooped Goliath off him—though it took considerable effort. "I knew you'd be fine."

Silco muttered something about putting a bounty on his own head, while Sevika wiped a tear from her eye, still chuckling.

The Next Morning

Y/N knocked on Silco’s office door, a bright smile on her face. "Hey, Silco, I need another favour—"

The door creaked open just a fraction.

Silco’s mismatched eyes met hers through the gap, dark circles underlining his exhaustion.

His voice was flat. "No."

The door shut.

Y/N blinked. Then she looked down at Goliath, who panted happily beside her.

"You really did a number on him, huh?"

Goliath wagged his tail, looking far too pleased with himself.

JINX/POWDER

/N sat on the worn leather couch, the rhythmic motion of her sewing machine filling the room with a steady hum as she worked on patching up one of Jinx's pants. The soft flicker of the lamp above cast a warm glow across the space, contrasting the chilly air that had settled into the small room. But it wasn’t the lamp's glow that kept her attention. It was the large, powerful figure of Thor, the Alaskan Malamute, who lay sprawled out beside her. His thick, snowy fur was tousled in places from the day’s adventures, and his calm, steady gaze rested on her as she worked. Thor’s size was impossible to ignore, yet his presence was so gentle, so comforting. He had become a quiet anchor in her life, always nearby when she needed him most, just as he had always been for the kids.

The sound of scuffling boots approached the door, followed by a voice that immediately lifted the atmosphere in the room.

“Y/N! Is Thor in there?” Jinx’s voice rang out, full of energy and excitement. Her high-pitched, almost sing-song tone was unmistakable. A wild grin appeared in the doorway as she bounced in, a whirlwind of unpredictable energy. Her wide blue eyes locked onto the massive dog, and without missing a beat, she practically flew towards him.

“Thor!” Jinx squealed, her voice full of pure joy.

Thor, ever the gentle giant, stood from his resting place with slow grace, his massive paws thudding softly on the floor. His wide, expressive eyes softened as they found Jinx. She didn’t even wait for him to fully stand before she threw herself at him. The moment her arms wrapped around his thick neck, Thor’s tail began to wag, creating a low thrum in the room as it hit the floor.

“Who’s my good boy, huh?” Jinx cooed, her face practically buried in his fur. She pressed her cheek against his massive, soft coat, laughing as she felt the warmth of his body radiate against hers. The Malamute’s thick, plush fur seemed to absorb all of her chaos and return it with unwavering affection.

Y/N smiled softly as she watched them. It always amazed her how easily Jinx, with her unpredictable and fiery personality, had found such a calm, soothing companion in Thor. There was a bond between them, one that was built on trust and the kind of wild, unconditional love that only an animal like Thor could offer.

“You two are inseparable, aren’t you?” Y/N mused, pausing her work for a moment, her hands resting on the worn fabric of the jacket. She looked over at the pair, her lips curving into a fond smile as Jinx continued to giggle, curling herself up against Thor’s enormous frame. The dog’s thick tail thumped the ground in approval, his dark eyes soft and relaxed.

“Yeah! He’s like... my giant fuzzy teddy bear!” Jinx exclaimed, her voice bubbling with excitement. Thor seemed content to just let her cling to him, his massive body completely still as he absorbed the affection.

Y/N couldn’t help but chuckle. The dog was built like a powerhouse—strong, robust, and as imposing as any beast could be. Yet, he was as patient and tender as a pup when it came to Jinx. There was something about him that grounded her. Perhaps it was his quiet, steady presence, or maybe it was his ability to see past the chaos of her nature and simply offer her a moment of peace.

After a few moments, Jinx’s face lit up again.

“Hey, Y/N, can I take him out for a walk? Please?” she asked, her eyes wide and filled with innocent pleading. “I promise I won’t make him run too fast. He deserves a little freedom, right?”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, a slight smirk tugging at her lips. “You know how strong he is, Jinx,” she warned gently, knowing well how hard it could be for anyone to keep up with Thor when he was on a roll. “Don’t let him drag you around, alright? And don’t go anywhere too dangerous.”

Jinx pouted playfully, giving Y/N her most exaggerated, pleading expression. “I’ll be fine! Thor and I are practically invincible together!” she declared, already bounding towards the door, grabbing his leash.

Thor’s large, dark eyes shifted from Jinx to Y/N before he bounded towards the door, his powerful frame moving with an energy that surprised anyone who didn’t know him well. Jinx was already tugging at the leash, practically bouncing with excitement.

“Alright, alright,” Y/N said, shaking her head with a smile as she watched them head out. “Just... don’t let him get too carried away.” She stood up and followed them to the door, a look of playful concern crossing her face.

As Jinx led Thor out into the crisp air, Y/N couldn’t help but smile, watching them disappear into the street. It was moments like these—quiet moments of calm after chaos—that reminded her how much Jinx had grown and how she had come to find her own sense of peace, even if it was in the form of a giant, affectionate dog. Thor was her companion, her protector, her furry confidante—and Y/N knew that, with him by her side, Jinx had a little piece of comfort, just like everyone else who had come to love the big dog.

Y/N returned to the couch, picking up her sewing once more, the gentle sound of the machine filling the room again. Despite the temporary stillness in the house, she knew that in their own way, they were all home.

#Arcane #arcane fandom #arcane fluff #reader insert #jinx x platonic!reader #jayce x reader #jayce x you #jayce talis x reader #jayce x y/n #viktor x y/n #viktor x reader #jayce x reader x viktor #viktor x you #vander x reader #silco x reader #jayvik x reader

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ruewritesoccasionally · 2 days ago

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hii my love, do u think u could do an Aaron pierre x reader in a couple's interview plss 🥺

pairings: aaron pierre x black reader

summary: Aaron and Y/N sit down for a couple’s interview, answering 30 questions that test their wit, patience, and love for each other. Playful banter, inside jokes, and stolen glances—this is them, unfiltered.

warnings: fluff, playful teasing, suggestive banter, excessive sweetness, and Aaron being absolutely smitten.

word count: 744

a/n: hi anon 🥰🥰 when i saw the ask, my initial thought was teyana and iman's gq interview so that was my inspo and i hope this was the kinda thing you were looking for and you like it !

Aaron Pierre & Y/N – 30 Questions with GQ

The video opens with Aaron and Y/N already settled on a plush couch, hands intertwined. A warm studio light casts a golden hue over them, and the energy between them is undeniable—easy, familiar, magnetic.

Aaron leans toward the camera with a lopsided grin. “So… we’re here to answer thirty questions about each other.”

Y/N chuckles, squeezing his hand. “Which means we’ll probably expose each other.”

Aaron hums, amused. “Oh, absolutely.”

Y/N smirks, looking directly at him. “You nervous?”

He pretends to think about it, then shakes his head. “Nah, I got you figured out.”

Y/N scoffs. “We’ll see about that.”

They turn to the camera, their hands still linked.

“Let’s get into it.”

Wholesome + Funny

Aaron picks up the first card. “Alright—who dies first in a horror movie?”

Y/N immediately points at him. “You.”

Aaron’s jaw drops. “Me? Nah, you gotta be kidding.”

She nods confidently. “Absolutely you. You’re the one who’d go check a ‘mysterious noise’ in the middle of the night.”

Aaron gives her a look. “And you wouldn’t?”

Y/N shakes her head. “Nope. I’d be halfway down the road, sprinting.”

Aaron laughs, shaking his head. “Alright, fair. But I feel like—”

“Nope,” Y/N interrupts. “Gone. Vanished. No final girl monologue. Just out.”

Aaron sighs, reading the next question. “Who is most likely to finish the milk and not say anything?”

Y/N side-eyes him.

Aaron sighs, rubbing his temples. “Why are you looking at me?”

Y/N folds her arms. “Because it’s you, Aaron.”

Aaron drags a hand down his face. “It was one time.”

Y/N raises a brow. “One time?”

Aaron stifles a laugh. “A few times.”

Y/N turns to the camera. “Multiple. Times.”

Aaron grins. “But I make up for it in other ways.”

She narrows her eyes. “Mm-hmm. Let’s move on before you incriminate yourself further.”

Aaron clears his throat. “Next question—what’s my favourite protective style to see you in?”

Y/N tilts her head, already knowing the answer. “Knotless braids.”

Aaron nods, smiling. “Correct. But it’s specifically when you have ‘em fresh done. Edges laid. Scalp on display.”

Y/N grins. “You really are obsessed.”

Aaron leans in. “You have no idea.”

Y/N swallows, suddenly shy, then quickly changes the subject. “Next section!”

Playful + Cheeky

Y/N reads the next card. “Who made the first move?”

Aaron smirks. “Technically, you.”

Y/N gasps. “Absolutely not.”

Aaron shrugs. “You lingered when we hugged.”

Y/N groans, covering her face. “That is not making the first move.”

Aaron laughs. “It was a long linger. An intentional linger.”

Y/N huffs. “Whatever. Next question.”

Aaron picks up the next card. “Who apologises first after an argument?”

Y/N immediately says, “Me.”

Aaron laughs, nodding. “Yeah. And I love you for that.”

Y/N side-eyes him. “Mmm, because you’re stubborn.”

Aaron leans in, voice softer. “Because you’re patient with me.”

Y/N pauses, then nudges him playfully. “Whatever, next question.”

Aaron reads it aloud. “Who’s more likely to initiate…?”

Y/N cackles, shaking her head. “You already know it’s you.”

Aaron tilts his head. “But is that a complaint?”

Y/N shifts in her seat, suddenly flustered. “Next section!”

Aaron chuckles. “Mm-hmm.”

Deep + Romantic

Y/N picks up a card. “What’s your favourite thing about me?”

Aaron exhales, smiling. “The way you make me feel like home.”

Y/N blinks.

Aaron looks at her, earnest. “No matter where we are, if I’m with you, I feel like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.”

Y/N clears her throat. “That’s not fair.”

Aaron chuckles. “Your turn.”

Y/N looks at the card, then at him. “What’s something you’ve never told me?”

Aaron hesitates, then says, “Before we got together, I used to practice how I’d ask you out.”

Y/N laughs. “What?”

Aaron grins sheepishly. “I had, like… different scenarios. Different versions in my head. Some were smooth. Some were a disaster.”

Y/N shakes her head, smiling. “And which one did you end up using?”

Aaron chuckles. “None of ‘em. I panicked and just blurted it out.”

Y/N laughs, nudging him. “And look at us now.”

Aaron hums. “Look at us now.”

Final Question

Aaron picks up the last card. “What’s the one thing we’ll always have, no matter what?”

Y/N doesn’t hesitate. “Us.”

Aaron smiles, reaching for her hand.

Y/N intertwines their fingers. “No matter what happens, we’ll always have us.”

Aaron nods. “Damn right we will.”

The screen fades to black, leaving only the sound of their laughter lingering in the background.

comments and reblogs are appreciated as well as feedback, i hope you liked it 🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾

#aaron pierre #aaron pierre x black reader #aaron pierre x black!reader #aaron pierre fluff #aaron pierre fanfic #ruewrites #rue answers

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jd-loves-fiction · 3 days ago

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Coming back to you with another request cuz I loved your previous work

Boothill, Welt, Ratio, Jing Yuan and Gallagher with the same platonic teen reader premise but reader calls them ,,Dad" on accident and they themselves don't even notice it because it comes so naturally to them

🌑so glad you liked it🥺🥺also the dad's of all time yes yes!! Also my internet has been fucked lately that's why uploads are slow sowy 🥺

✦ 𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐥 ✦

If you look at his lore, he was actually a dad (😭 my Shayla) so yeah big chance he won't notice at all

Because of the trauma associated with his family in general, he'll notice it eventually and be a bit conflicted

On one hand, he's absolutely delighted at the fact that despite being almost entirely made of metal, you are still able to find such fundamentally human comfort within him

And on the other hand, he has a hard time accepting that the man he was before didn't actually die along with most of his body

He won't ever correct you tho, at the end of the day he's just grateful that he's still able to make young folk feel safe around him

Reminds him that he's still human🥺

✦ 𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐭 ✦

Did you see the way he basically adopted Sunday the moment he stepped on the express?? Yeah, that's dad right there

He basically adopts every kid (as in, anyone younger than him) that steps aboard the express, so i feel like someone else might've already called him before and he just brushed it off

Same with you, though in his heart he's over the moon

All he wants in life is to make everyone around him feel safe and loved, so to know that you of all people seem to think of him in such a way really warms his heart

Though he'll never point it out in fear of making you embarrassed

He's overjoyed!! But internally :)

✦ 𝐃𝐫. 𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨 ✦

Truly baffled, at first

He's aware of his reputation and he doesn't mind it but he never expected someone to him that way

Though he's (not so) secretly very pleased

At his core, he's a teacher and that's what he loves to do - spread knowledge to all who seek it

And I'm sorry for reminding you of this but most of us have called our teacher mom/dad before so...

There's a slight chance it's happened before... also a slight chance he very dryly corrected them - "last time i checked i have no children" 🙄

Might do the same to you unless he's in one of his moods, writing down information or just lost in thought - then he'll probably just wave you away wordlessly

I feel like he understands on a behavioral level why you did it and because of it, wont comment on it or bring it up again. It's just something people do sometimes, nothing weird about it

The most neutral out of all of them but will make a mental note about how it probably means you trust him at least a little

When he lets himself be selfish and overthink it, it does warm his heart but you'll never know

✦ 𝐉𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐮𝐚𝐧 ✦

Actual father to Yanqing YOU CANT CHANGE MY MIND!!

Ooooh he's tearing his hair out trying not to tease you about it

He knows that if he does you'll crawl back in your shell again and thats tHEEE last thing he wants in life, really

It's easy to feel comfortable around him, i feel. He's just a big lazy cat - pretty independent and chill

He's good at just being there when you need him there as well as talking your ear off as a distraction - peak comfort

Definately called Jingliu 'mom' as a kid, come on

And Yanqing did the same with him

So it doesnt surprise him much since he understands its a pretty normal thing but GOOOOD he wants to acknowledge it so BAAADD

HE WANTS TO MAKE IT SILLY BUT NOOOOO 😭

He's an adult now (a very old one at that) so he understands that now is NOT the time

Will keep thinking back on it fondly tho :))

✦ 𝐆𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐫 ✦

Oh oh my... he gives so much deadbeat dad I'm getting nostalgic IM KIDDING

Anyway, as a bartender, i feel like thats happened to him before

People say weird shit when they're drunk so it's very likely someone's called him dad before

Though that feels very different to him

When people do that when drunk it doesn't usually mean anything - he must just remind them of their father (for good or bad) so he doesn't take it too seriously

But you? Oh he's taking it seriously

Ego? Inflated to hell and back

He's being extra sweet and caring with you

Making sure you eat and rest, etc

Gotta live up to his reputation 😉

The dad who stepped up fr

Might tease you about it, but if you have an adverse reaction he'll stop immediately

Very touched that you think of him that way even subconsciously and will try to make sure he doesn't disappoint :)

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utopiastri · 3 days ago

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25. Showing up injured at their enemy's house for Osc/Charles, please? 🙏

hi anon!!! thank you for the prompt dear! i've never written choscar before and this was an absolute delight to put together!!! (cw for descriptions of major injury)

(prompt list here)

Oscar’s doing his best not to yawn through Ryan’s work story when the doorbell rings.

He smiles apologetically, standing up from the table. “Sorry, let me just get that.”

“Of course, sweetheart,” Ryan says, smiling politely. Oscar inwardly grimaces at the pet name but smiles back.

A horrible feeling in his gut makes Oscar close the door to the dining room on his way to the front of the house. This gut feeling is proven correct when he opens the door to find Charles Leclerc on his front doorstep.

“What are you doing here?” he hisses.

Charles gives him a pained smile. “Oh, believe me, I wish I were anywhere else but here currently.”

“Then, why are you here? Go somewhere else!”

Charles gives Oscar a pleading look. “I need your help.”

“Charles,” he says exasperatedly, scrubbing his hands over his face, “I am literally the last person you should expect to help you.”

“Please.”

Oscar swallows. He hears a sound from behind him.

“Uh,” Ryan calls from a few rooms away, “Everything ok, sweetheart?”

Charles shoots him a look. “Sweetheart?” he mouths.

“Shut up. I was on a date before you came barging in here,” he whispers.

“A first date?" Charles asks, eyebrows raised, before correcting himself. "Ah, no, a second date but the first one was already pretty shit, hm?”

Oscar hates how perceptive he is.

“Yes,” he admits reluctantly.

“So second date. And you are letting him call you ‘sweetheart’?”

Oscar glares at Charles, but doesn’t get a chance to retaliate before Ryan’s made it to the front door.

“Oh. Ah. Who’s this, Oscar?” he asks.

“Pierre Gasly,” Charles lies smoothly, extending a hand to shake, “I’m a friend of Oscar’s from work." He shoots Oscar a defeated look. "I was just stopping by to drop something off, I won’t take up any more of your evening.”

“Wait,” Oscar says, before Charles can even start to run off. He hates himself for what he's about to do but his decision was made the second Charles said ‘please’. He turns to Ryan: “I’m so sorry, Charles actually came to tell me there’s a problem at work we’ll need to sort out – he offered to deal with it himself but I think I’ll have to lend a hand.”

Ryan shakes his head. “No, that’s ok, I’ll, uh, leave you guys to it?”

“If you would,” Charles answers, smiling in a way that would alarm anyone who knows him, but tends to charm complete strangers.

After a couple of minutes of Oscar saying his goodbyes to Ryan (and suffering through the worst goodnight kiss of his life), Oscar turns his focus to Charles, who is…

No longer in the hallway.

“Charles?” he calls.

“Kitchen!” is the response he gets.

“You know, when I offered to help you, that wasn’t me offering you to give yourself a…tour.” Oscar freezes in the doorway of his kitchen staring at the mess of wounds that was once Charles’ chest. “Charles,” he says hoarsely.

Charles smiles wanly, even as he continues to try to clean out his injuries a little. “Like I said,” he hisses as he pokes at a particularly nasty-looking wound, “I need your help.”

“You didn’t think to maybe mention the fucking life-threatening injuries you had, rather than standing on my doorstep teasing me about my date,” Oscar chastises, kneeling down on the tiles and swiping the first aid supplies from Charles’ hands.

“Oh come on, Oscar. You deserve better than a man who,” Charles cuts himself off to groan as Oscar starts methodically trying to close up Charles’ worst injuries, but he swiftly continues speaking, “A man who calls you a pet name on the second date. And god, the least he could do is call you ‘baby’.”

“Do you think teasing me about pet names whilst I literally hold your life in my hands is the way to go?”

Charles smiles lazily, even as his eyes squeeze tight with pain. “Perhaps not, baby.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Why not?”

“Because,” Oscar says, taking a grim delight in the sharp inhale Charles takes as he starts stitching a large cut together, “You lost the right to call me ‘baby’ three years ago.”

“Was that when I tried to kill you in San Diego or when you tried to kill me in Beijing?”

Oscar gives him a wry look. “That was when you decided to skip our wedding to go meet with an arms dealer.”

“Ah, yes, my mistake. I promise he was an ugly arms dealer, if that makes you feel any better.”

For a few moments, the only sound in the room is Oscar trying to deal with Charles’ injuries as best he can. Oscar wants to say something. He wants to ask so badly what Charles is doing here, but he knows Charles knows he wants to ask and he refuses to give him the satisfaction.

He gives in in the end though.

He always does with Charles.

“Why did you come here? Why come to me?”

Charles looks at him and, for the first time tonight, Oscar truly registers the deep devastation in his eyes.

“You were the only one I trusted not to hurt me,” he whispers.

#listen. this isn't a mr and mrs smith AU but it's like #mr and mrs smith adjacent #just. exes to violent enemies to. whatever relationship you have with the guy stitching you up on the kitchen floor??? compelling #thank you anon!!!#choscar #drabbles #asks

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aventurineswife · 1 day ago

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AU where HSR characters are celebrities w unique styles / actors and people love them sm they cosplay as them. Slides in reader in a little expo selling merch of them and they bump into each other like ?!?! except except...reader doesn't recognize them at all bcs they think it's just another cosplayer!! (Any charac, but pls w dr ratio & aven? 🙏)

Oh, this idea is golden. Imagine Dr. Ratio and Aventurine as insanely famous celebrities—Ratio probably being a revered intellectual with a cult following (think a mix of philosopher and fashion icon), while Aventurine is this enigmatic, scandalous businessman-turned-star with a reputation for being both a genius and a wildcard.

Now, picture the expo. The reader is there, just minding their business, selling fan merch—maybe cute enamel pins of Dr. Ratio’s signature owl-themed accessories or Aventurine’s flashy gambler aesthetic. And then, boom. They bump into these two, but instead of freaking out, they just assume they’re dedicated cosplayers.

Dr. Ratio would be absolutely offended but also fascinated. He’d scoff, adjust his laurel, and be like, “You have quite the nerve, not recognizing the most brilliant mind of this generation.” Meanwhile, Aventurine? Oh, he’d love it. He’d lean in with that ever-present smirk, maybe toy with his glasses, and play along just to see how far it goes.

"A cosplayer? My, my, you wound me. Should I take it as a compliment that people look this good dressed as me?"

Reader, completely unfazed: “Yeah, you really nailed the smug aura. Did you make that choker yourself, or did you buy it from the official merch store?”

Ratio is trying so hard to correct them, but Aventurine keeps egging it on, throwing in outrageous claims (“Oh, my dear colleague here? He spent weeks crafting that headpiece by hand.”). Eventually, they have to reveal themselves, and the moment of realization would be priceless.

I can totally see Aventurine chuckling while signing one of their merch pieces with a dramatic flourish, “Consider this the most valuable thing at your stall now.”

And Ratio? He’d just shake his head in exasperation but still begrudgingly sign something before walking off with a huff.

Iconic.

#x reader #honkai star rail #hsr #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #hsr aventurine #aventurine x reader #hsr aventurine x reader #aventurine x you #ratio x reader #ratio x you #dr ratio #veritas ratio #hsr ratio #hsr veritas #veritas x reader #aventurine honkai star rail #aventurine hsr

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starryswitchy · 2 days ago

Text

also a lot of people will say "oh I don't want you to correct absolutely everything but do let me know if I'm saying something really wrong!"

in that kind of in-between space, the smoothest and most effective approach is to do like, active listening, like reflect back what they say to show you're listening and to ensure you're both understanding one another, but reflect back the correct phrasing or word or pronunciation, like

friend: I go-ed to the cinema yesterday with her.

me: Oh, you went to the cinema? What did you see?

friend: Yes, I went to the cinema! We saw Godzilla original, it was... they show different Godzilla all this week?

me: Ah, cool, they're doing a Godzilla event? How was the original Godzilla? I've never seen it!

it keeps the conversation moving and it lets the learner pick up and practice the correct language without feeling like the conversation keeps stopping for their mistakes, which can be demoralising even for people who want corrections!

(this approach also works great for speaking with young children!)

Hey, if you're learning to speak a new language and you frequently talk with native speakers, it's good to clarify what level of corrections and constructive feedback you'd prefer. Because there's a whole sliding scale of people who want their grammar and pronunciation to be immaculate and who will feel embarrassed if they find out they've been obliviously making the same mistake every time this whole time, and there are people who are perfectly happy with just being able to communicate coherently enough to be understood, and who will get annoyed about having their words corrected - and there's no telling which group anyone belongs to, unless you ask.

And on the other side of the fence, to the native speakers in this situation: Ask your learning friends which end of this scale they land in! It might not occur to them to specifically let you know any more than it would've occurred to you to ask. This will save so much time and bother for both of you.

#I'm a language professor #and the parent of a young child #so I talk like this so much of the time these days lol #language #language learning

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genderqueerdykes · 2 days ago

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A bunch of intersex people on here got pissed and blocked me because I said that PCOS is a serious condition that requires medical treatment a lot of the time. They were arguing saying "People just don't like how it makes you look, they hate that we don't look cis! It doesn't need medical treatment at all!"

Except it does. PCOS raises your risk for cancer, it causes pre-diabetes, it makes your hormone levels all fucky, not to mention the acne! The list goes on and on. But apparently I am intersexist for pointing those things out. Literally every other person I know with PCOS has been blown off by doctors and left to suffer, like they will have incredibly painful cysts and insulin resistance and doctors will drag their feet and make excuses not to help? "Just lose weight." "Pain is normal it's probably cramps"

I had to fight so hard to get them to realize I had an actual cyst and that was why I was in so much pain! The treatment is for your health, like laser hair removal is aesthetic but the actual medical treatment is IMPORTANT. I fucking hate that people are saying you should forgo it entirely. They are spreading medical misinformation.

But apparently I'm intersexist. It pisses me off. I'm not the only one either I've seen them dog piling others who point this out. Can you say something on this? People are going to put themselves needlessly at risk just to prove that they're intersex enough, "you're only gaslighted by doctors into thinking you need medical treatment". It's so fucking stupid. It's not the same as genital mutilation or surgeries on intersex babies. It's for your fucking health...

god i just let out the longest, most existentially exhausted sigh. i am so sorry you had to go through this. this is 100% those people assuming the absolute worst and jumping on you for it. i actually have a lot to say about this as well, so thank you for taking the time to send this ask.

this is reactionary behavior. there is no rationale, only emotion. i think they are misinterpreting you on purpose in order to be able to go off on you. i think that's all there is to it. like they're reading what you're saying and going "oh so you think all intersex people should try to have their conditions 'CORRECTED'???" and crying intersexism, failing to realize that a lot of intersex variations are literal health conditions that can and do make a person sick. these are fucking MEDICAL CONDITIONS, y'all! it's not JUST about your genitals & hormones! it's not JUST your secondary sex characteristics! hormones affect so much more than just your primary and secondary sex characteristics, they actually affect way more of the body than most people realize!

i'm not afraid to say it anymore, but a lot of intersex people on here are just straight up fucking bullies. i actually do not interact with too many other intersex bloggers on here because i do not like the amount of hostility & outright transphobia. so many intersex bloggers on here are proud to be transphobic as fuck. like it just absolutely fucking disgusts me that so many intersex people on here are taking the route of rude disenfranchised asshole who thinks it's okay to be mean as fuck to other queer people because we don't have a lot of visibility. that's not other queer people's faults. stop assuming every other queer you meet is going to be intersexist. stop pouncing on people who aren't hurting you.

They were arguing saying "People just don't like how it makes you look, they hate that we don't look cis! It doesn't need medical treatment at all!"

THIS is what's intersexist as hell because a lot of people with PCOS do not have an outward appearance that would indicate that they have an intersex variation. a lot what goes on with PCOS happens inside your body. how the hell are you supposed to be able to see someone's cysts just by looking at them? you have no idea if that "perisex cis woman" standing next to you at the grocery store is actually perisex, or if they shave their facial hair and make sure they don't look like they have a five o' clock shadow because they don't want facial hair. some intersex people DON'T like "looking intersex". some people get body dysphoria from their hormonal imbalances. not every intersex person "LOOKS" intersex.

Literally every other person I know with PCOS has been blown off by doctors and left to suffer, like they will have incredibly painful cysts and insulin resistance and doctors will drag their feet and make excuses not to help? "Just lose weight." "Pain is normal it's probably cramps" I had to fight so hard to get them to realize I had an actual cyst and that was why I was in so much pain! The treatment is for your health, like laser hair removal is aesthetic but the actual medical treatment is IMPORTANT. I fucking hate that people are saying you should forgo it entirely. They are spreading medical misinformation.

100%. this has nothing to do with you saying that someone needs to have their intersex condition "corrected". i can't believe someone would just tell you that while you're trying to convey that you quite literally needed medical care. PCOS can be a very painful condition to live with. as a teenager, i was having such heavy periods that i was having to change pads every 45 minutes. i HAD to see a gynecologist about it. i had low iron. it was making me anemic from the amount of blood i was losing. it wasn't just a routine trip to the OBGYN, i was having a serious medical issue and i needed help for it. i wasn't trying to "CORRECT" my intersex condition, i was trying to address a symptom that was caused by my intersex condition. now THEY tried to "correct" it with estrogen, but that's not what i was trying to do. i just wanted to stop suffering.

and you're right about diabetes & insulin resistance. this is extremely common in PCOS. hormones heavily affect that part of your health. like what, are people expecting someone with PCOS who develops diabetes to not seek treatment for it because that would be them "CORRECTING" their intersex condition and being "intersexist" somehow? was me seeking help for bleeding so much i was anemic intersexist? this is ridiculous. a lot of intersex variations come with health problems. we're not saying that being INTERSEX is a health problem, but intersex variations can CAUSE health problems, and nobody should have to just deal with that because it's somehow intersexist to seek medical care.

i'm really sorry you experienced that. on god, so many of the intersex bloggers on here are just straight up bullies. i'm just saying it. it's people taking other people's lives personally and getting offended when another intersex person doesn't shut up and listen to them and agree with them blindly. i've seen way too many intersex people on here who are proud to be aggressive assholes. why are we doing this to other intersex people? we shouldn't cannibalize our own. god fucking damn. it's not community if we're tearing each other apart.

let other intersex people decide what they do and don't do with their bodies. if the way another intersex person governs their body upsets you, move the hell on. stop making it their problem.

im so sorry you had to go through this anon. you deserve to be able to talk about YOUR OWN EXPERIENCE AS AN INTERSEX PERSON. it find it absolutely disgusting that there are people on here who want to try to talk for you instead. unreal. i hope you have a great week anon, stay safe, and i hope that things are going better for you in terms of your health.

#asks #feedback #answers #intersexism #intersex #pcos

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slcmml · 19 hours ago

Text

tech support! charlie & reader — you turn my software into hardware.

you hate making phone calls.

absolutely despise it, actually. something about talking to a stranger, especially for customer support, makes your skin crawl. but your laptop is acting up, and after scouring the internet for a solution and coming up empty handed, you seemingly have no other choice. so, you dial the number, swallow your nerves, and wait.

“hello! this is charlie from tech co’s customer support! how can i help you today?”

you weren’t expecting the voice on the other end to sound so… cute?

it’s warm, gentle, and just a little scratchy, like he’s been talking all day but still has patience to spare. suddenly, making this phone call doesn’t seem like the worst thing in the world.

“hi, um. yeah. my laptop isn’t working? i mean, obviously, that’s why i’m calling, but, uh, it won’t turn on, and i have no idea why.”

“gotcha! let’s see if we can get that fixed for you!”

his voice is so reassuring you almost forget you’re actually supposed to be fixing something.

he walks you through the steps, patient as ever while you fumble through them. when you press the wrong button, he gently corrects you. when you let out a frustrated groan, he laughs—not in a mean way, but like he finds you endearing. and god, it makes your stomach do a little flip.

“it’s okay, take your time! i’m here to help, promise.”

and help he does.

except at some point, your laptop starts working again, but you don’t want tell him.

“huh? still not working? that’s weird.”

you lie straight through your teeth just to keep talking to him. it’s shameless, really, but you don’t even care. he’s kind, patient, and his voice is the nicest thing you’ve heard all day. so you keep up the act just a little longer, drawing out the conversation until there’s truly nothing left to say.

“well, i’m glad i could help! and if you need anything else, you know where to call.”

oh, you do. and you’re already thinking about it.

“you’ve been super helpful, by the way,” you say, hesitating just a little before asking, “um, what’s your name? so i can leave a good review?”

“oh! yeah, of course. it’s charlie.”

charlie. yeah, that suits him.

“thanks, charlie. i really appreciate it.”

“anytime.”

—

you call back the next day.

you shouldn’t. there is no reason to. your laptop is fine, perfectly fine, but—

“hello! tech support, how can i help you?”

your heart sinks for a second before you realize it’s not charlie.

“oh, um,” you stammer, scrambling for an excuse. “i, uh, had an issue with my laptop the other day, and i wanted to follow up? i think the guy who helped me was named charlie?”

“oh, charlie! yeah, give me a sec, i’ll transfer you over.”

your stomach does a whole flip before you hear the click of the line transferring.

“hello?”

oh, thank god.

“hey, charlie,” you say, and you hope he doesn’t hear the stupid little smile in your voice. “it’s me. again.”

“oh, hey! did something go wrong with your laptop?”

“yeah, it’s, uh. still kinda acting up.”

lie.

“oh no,” he says, immediately concerned. “what’s it doing now?”

you make something up on the spot, some vague, convoluted problem that doesn’t actually exist, but he still goes along with it. walks you through another set of steps, laughs ok when you struggle, and just—keeps talking to you.

and this time, you swear he’s stalling, too.

—

it becomes a thing. you call every couple of days with some tech issue you made up, and he never questions it, just helps you like normal and talks to you like he’s actually happy to hear your voice. (spoilers: he is)

until the one time you say, “ugh, this laptop hates me,” and he hums thoughtfully before going, “you know, for a laptop that’s given you this many problems, you sure seem to like using it.”

does this mean he knows?

“what?” you say, playing dumb.

“i mean, you’ve had, what, like five different issues this week?” he teases. “i’m starting to think you just like calling tech support.”

heat rushes to your face. “okay, first of all,” you say, indignant. “it was three times.”

“mmhm.”

“second of all,” you start, then stop. because what is your second point? that he’s right? that you do like calling tech support? or, more specifically, that you like calling him?

“whatever,” you mumble instead, hoping he can’t hear how flustered you are.

but if the way he’s laughing is any indication, he totally can.

—

a week later, you take it one step further.

you don’t call this time. you show up.

you made a small google search to find the address of tech co, the store he works at, before stepping inside with a mix of excitement and nerves buzzing under your skin. you don’t even know what he looks like, but somehow, you just know when you see him.

he’s standing behind the counter, light brown hair, slightly messy, sleeves rolled up just enough to show his forearms. he’s cuter than you imagined—not just cute, but like, unfairly pretty. and when his eyes meet yours, shining with kindness, you know you made the right call.

“hi,” you say, leaning onto the counter.

“hey,” he says back, smiling. “fancy seeing you here.”

“yeah, well. my laptop broke again,” you say, suppressing a grin.

he raises an eyebrow. “oh, did it now?”

“yeah.. completely fried. tragic, really.”

“oh, so tragic,” he echoes, playing along.

you both know you’re full of shit. neither of you really care.

“so,” he leans in just a little, resting his arms on the counter, closer to you. “now that i’ve seen you in person, should i expect more tech issues? or was this a one time thing?”

you laugh, feeling a little bold. “you think i’d come to your job just to say it’s a ‘one time thing’?”

“i hope not,” he says with a slightly nervous smile.

your heart flips. he’s so cute.

“well, it’s not,” you say, mustering all your courage. “‘cause, you know, i’ve got a real issue that could use your help.”

his grin widens. “mmhm. and what would that be?”

“i need your number. y’know, in case of emergency. i mean, what if my laptop explodes?”

he blinks.

then he laughs—soft, surprised, pleased—before pulling a receipt from the register and scribbling something on it.

when he slides it over, his fingers brush yours, and you think, yeah. totally worth it.

#slcmml posts #is this ok #did i cook #maybe #maybe not #it’s ok either way #charlie slimecicle x reader #charlie slimecicle #slimecicle #slmccl #chuckle sandwich #jrwi #sfw

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sgiandubh · 1 day ago

Text

Nasty, old, righteous

Hey Marple,

Are you that desperate to get my attention, woman?

Well, well... Fascism at its best, as always.

We all know S has got awful spelling skills. That long Hawaii rant is clear enough, and it happens especially when he is angry/in a hurry. Like today: in a hurry to post, unless you live under a rock and think spellcheckers do not exist. Probably his is not automatically activated, on his cellphone. Big deal, darling!

You? You are still the same old, not even different, sad and obsessed troll, who thinks she is somehow relevant. Case in point, your permanent heavy hinting (it's vulgar, you know - surprised to see that on your righteous page 😱), in an attempt to drag Ashley Hearn into the same boring plot, more than she would actually try to do it herself.

Oh, well. I suppose this is what people like you (who gladly call the police to see who the hell scratched a car bumper, but wouldn't spend five minutes at a refugee soup kitchen) pick as a hobby.

[Later edit]: because karma is a bitch, perhaps look closer at what you wrote with your own little hands - see above:

'didn't caught'

Enough said. Thank you, @katmccoy 😘😘😘😘😘, you are absolutely right, I wanted to write it myself and then got interrupted and somehow forgot.. :)

The most scary part? Literally nobody corrected her.

#fandom #shitshow #sassenach spirits #booze wars #business #trolls

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hayleythesugarbowl · 1 day ago

Note

If you want to, could you somehow do something like Ian Hecox x daughter reader that is just fluff ?

Daddy Ian || Ian Hecox & daughter!reader

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ masterlist • smosh masterlist ⋆˚｡⋆୨୧⋆

summary: ian introduces his daughter to the smosh cast

word count: 829

warnings: none

a/n: i absolutely can! dad!ian is so important to me 🥹 this is just pure fluff and smosh cast being smosh cast. i imagine the reader to be in high school just bc of like timing and stuff. enjoy 💌

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~❦~°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hooligans, my daughter. Daughter, hooligans.”

Your dad gestured between you and the group of people standing in front of you. You waved at them.

“Hey, I’m (Y/n), it’s nice to meet all of you,” you said politely.

Your dad had finally decided to give you a tour of the Smosh studios where he did his job and you had been more than eager to meet his coworkers and see how things worked.

“(Y/n), this is Damien, Angela, Chanse, Arasha, and Tommy,” Ian told you, pointing at everyone. “Oh, and that’s Trevor I guess.”

The guy who must’ve been Trevor threw up his arms in surrender. You giggled.

“So, you’re the famous (Y/n) Hecox that Ian never shuts up about,” Tommy said.

“My dad’s told me so many things about all of you,” you said. “Which one of you jumped over a car?”

“Oh I like her,” Chanse said, turning to Ian. “You’ve taught her well.”

“Well I had to,” your dad spoke to you, throwing an arm around your shoulder playfully. “Since she doesn’t watch our videos.”

“Don’t feel bad, I don’t either,” Angela said conspiratorially out of the side of her mouth.

“Dad, I watched that one, remember?” You said.

“Beef ‘n Go doesn’t count,” Ian corrected.

“What’s Beef ‘n Go?” Arasha asked.

“Tell you later,” Damien answered her.

“It’s so cool seeing where you guys film,” you said, looking around. “I’ve never been in a real studio before.”

“Hear that? She thinks I’m cool,” Ian mock whispered to his friends.

“Ok, that’s not what I said,” you corrected.

“Well that’s how I heard it.” Ian shrugged.

“Your hearing’s also probably not what it used to be, am I right?” Trevor said, the mischievous grin on his face melting as Ian raised an eyebrow at him. “I-I mean, you’re in your prime, Ian. Sir. Boss.”

“Suck up,” Tommy coughed into her shoulder, earning a laugh from Damien and Arasha.

“Suck up? Title of yo—” Angela started.

“Angela,” Chanse chided, glancing at you, stopping her from saying whatever she was about to say.

“Yeah dude, not in front of my daughter,” Ian said to Angela.

It was fun, seeing your dad and his friends all talk and banter like this. You had only known them outside of Ian’s stories for a few minutes but you could already tell how close they all were. You could see why Ian loved his job so much.

“And, hey, getting sucked up to is just one of the perks of being the president of the company,” Ian crossed his arms, taking on a cocky look. “I’m kind of a big deal.”

“Is he always this annoying at work?” You asked them.

“(Y/n),” Ian scolded, as his coworkers laughed. “I could ground you for that.”

The room was silent a moment, everyone sharing glances of disbelief.

“Yeah that didn’t sound right to me either,” Ian finally broke the silence. “I’m too cool of a dad for that.”

“Again with this?” You groaned.

“It’s an undeniable fact. Oh—I should tell them about the time I danced to Baby Got Back at your birthday party,” Ian elbowed you.

“I still have nightmares about it,” you shivered dramatically.

“Hey! Your old man’s still got some moves.”

Ian demonstrated this by dancing awkwardly as you rolled your eyes at him. He eventually stopped, clutching his side, muttering about pulling something.

You covered your mouth to hide your laughter. Ian put his hands on his hips.

“Ok, do you want me to give you the tour or not?” Ian asked. “Because I’ll take you home if—”

“Yes, yes I definitely do,” you said, making your face serious now.

“Let’s go,” Ian said, leading you away from the rest of the group. “First stop: my office. I wanna show you how big my desk is. Did I tell you that I run this whole company? ”

“This is why no one sits with him at lunch,” you heard Arasha tell the others as you walked away.

You waved at them, saying goodbye as Ian lead you deeper into the building.

“They all seem really nice,” you said when you and your dad were out of earshot.

“Yeah, wait until you work with them for years,” Ian joked, putting on an exaggerated British accent. “They’re terrible, really. Absolutely dreadful.”

“Ok, Simon Cowell,” you teased. “I can tell you love them.”

“Not as much as I love my daughter,” Ian said, placing a hand around your shoulder.

“Love you too dad,” you responded.

“No need to sound too enthusiastic,” Ian clutched his chest in mock offense.

“Too enthusiastic. Ways to describe your Sir Mix A Lot choreography.”

“Anthony said I could throw it back!” Ian protested.

You giggled. “Uncle Anthony’s your best friend so he has to say that. But I can be honest.”

Ian shook his head at you lovingly, ruffling your hair. “Oh yeah? And why’s that?”

You beamed up at him.

“Because I’m your daughter.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~❦~°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ˋ°•*⁀➷ hope u liked this love! more fics coming out soon xx

#ian hecox #ian hecox x reader #ian hecox x daughter!reader #smosh #smosh fanfiction #smosh imagine #fanfiction #fanfic #reader insert #x reader

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horoscope1078 · 24 hours ago

Text

Gavi had made many bad decisions in life, like challenging Lewandowski to a shooting contest, drinking three espressos before a match, and once thinking he could cut his own hair. But none of them compared to agreeing to a second driving lesson with you.

Yet, here he was, sitting in the passenger seat of his car once again, watching you adjust the mirrors, this time not to check yourself out, thankfully.

“Alright, Gavi, I’m ready.” you declared, placing your hands on the steering wheel.

Gavi folded his arms. “We’ll see about that.”

You smirked. “Still don’t trust me?”

“After last time? Absolutely not.”

You sighed dramatically. “You act like I crashed the car.”

“You almost killed me.” Gavi corrected.

You giggled. “Then why are you here again?”

Gavi opened his mouth, then closed it. He had no good answer. The truth was, you had looked at him with those big, pleading eyes and said “Please, Pablo? I’ll be so good this time.” And, well… he was weak.

“Let’s just get this over with.” he muttered, adjusting his seatbelt like it was a life vest.

You started the car, this time actually easing onto the road without giving him a heart attack.

Gavi let out a small, surprised nod. “Ok… not bad.”

You gave him a smug look. “See? I told you I-”

HONK!

You shrieked, swerving slightly. “WHAT WAS THAT?”

Gavi clutched his chest. “It was just another car!”

“Well, it scared me!”

“It’s a road! There are cars on the road!”

You huffed. “You didn’t warn me about that.”

“Oh I’m sorry.” Gavi said sarcastically. “Would you like me to warn you every time we see a building too?”

You stuck your tongue out at him and kept driving.

Gavi relaxed a little, watching as you navigated a turn surprisingly well. “Alright, that wasn’t bad.” he admitted.

“High praise coming from Mr. Perfectionist.” you teased.

Gavi rolled his eyes. “Ok, now try switching lanes.”

You signalled, checked your mirror, and started to move over.

“Slowly, slowly- NO NOT INTO THE OTHER CAR!” Gavi shrieked, gripping the handle above his seat.

You corrected yourself, just narrowly avoiding disaster.

Gavi exhaled sharply, rubbing his temples. “You have to check your blind spot.”

“I did!”

“You turned your head for half a second! That’s not checking, that’s glancing.”

You giggled. “You sound like my grandpa.”

Gavi shot you an offended look. “Excuse me? I am twenty years old.”

“Could’ve fooled me.” you teased.

Gavi groaned. “Why do I even try?”

You smiled innocently. “Because you love spending time with me.”

His mouth snapped shut.

You smirked. “No denial?”

He coughed, looking away. “Focus on the road.”

You laughed but did as he said. You drove in relative peace until you reached a quiet street.

“Ok” Gavi said, regaining some confidence. “Now let’s try parking.”

“Easy.” you said, pulling into an empty spot.

The car was diagonal. Practically in two spaces.

Gavi stared. “What is that?”

You blinked. “Parking?”

“Parking where? In two different countries?”

You pouted. “It’s close enough.”

Gavi threw his hands up. “Close enough? You can’t just park wherever you want!”

You turned to him with a playful smirk. “Oh, really? Is that a rule, Professor Gavi?”

“Yes! That’s literally the law.”

You giggled and purposefully leaned closer to him. “And what if I don’t listen?”

Gavi’s brain short-circuited.

You were too close. He could feel the warmth of your shoulder brushing against his. His usual furious glare softened, and his ears turned pink.

“I... I...” he stammered, gripping his seatbelt. “Then you’ll get a ticket!”

You tilted your head. “But you’re my instructor. Wouldn’t you get the ticket instead?”

Gavi blinked. “Wait, what? No! That’s not how it works.”

You burst out laughing. “Oh my God, you should see your face.”

He scowled. “Not funny.”

You reached over and poked his cheek. “It’s a little funny.”

Gavi swatted your hand away, ears now fully red. “Just park properly before I actually lose my mind.”

Giggling, you corrected your parking, and this time, you actually did it right.

“There.” you said proudly. “Perfect.”

Gavi exhaled. “Finally.”

You turned to him with a smirk. “Admit it. I did well.”

He huffed. “You almost killed me again, so no.”

“Oh, come on!” you pouted. “I did way better than last time.”

Gavi crossed his arms. “Fine. You were less of a disaster.”

You gasped dramatically. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

He rolled his eyes. “Don’t push your luck.”

You leaned in closer again. “Or what?”

Gavi’s entire body tensed. “Or I... I” he turned away, covering his face with his hands. “Ay Dios mío...”

You laughed. “You’re blushing!”

“I AM NOT!”

“You totally are!”

Gavi groaned, sinking lower into his seat. “This is worse than the driving lesson.”

You giggled and patted his shoulder. “I think we should have lessons every week.”

“Nope. Not happening.”

“Oh, come on, Pablito” you teased, batting your lashes.

Gavi looked at you for a second. Big mistake. Because the second your eyes met, he felt his heart skip in the dumbest, most embarrassing way.

“Fine...” he mumbled.

You grinned. “See? I knew you couldn’t say no to me.”

He crossed his arms. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Ok, fine, maybe I don’t...” he muttered.

You beamed, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “Thanks for the lesson, Coach Gavi.”

His whole body stiffened.

You pulled away, smirking. “Still hate me?”

Gavi, now fully red, turned to the window and muttered “Start the car before I change my mind.”

You laughed, starting the engine, while Gavi sat there, utterly defeated. He was never winning against you. And honestly? He kind of loved it.

#football fiction #pablo gavi #pablo gavi x reader #gavi #gavi x reader

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fioredeciliego · 3 days ago

Text

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝟐

𝐖𝐂: 𝟒.𝟓𝐊

ℑ 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲, '𝔱𝔦𝔩 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 ℭ𝔬𝔪𝔢

The neutral castle stood tall against the rolling hills, its stone walls bathed in the golden light of late afternoon. It was meant to be a place of learning, of refinement, a bridge between two kingdoms once divided. But for Minjeong and Y/N, it was just another battlefield.

Minjeong, now fifteen, lounged lazily in one of the cushioned chairs of the grand study hall, one boot resting on the edge of the ornate wooden table. Her tailored jacket hung loosely off her shoulders, her posture exuding careless confidence. Across from her, Y/N, now thirteen, sat rigidly upright, hands neatly folded in her lap, her gown pristine, her expression a delicate balance between annoyance and exasperation.

"Are you even trying to look like you belong here?" Y/N asked, eyeing Minjeong’s unbuttoned collar with barely concealed disdain.

Minjeong smirked. "Depends. Is looking like I belong here going to make these lessons any less boring?"

Y/N sighed, rubbing her temples. "We’re here to learn diplomacy and etiquette, Minjeong. The least you could do is pretend to care."

Minjeong rolled her eyes. "Oh yes, because knowing which fork to use at dinner is going to save our kingdoms one day."

"It’s about respect," Y/N snapped. "And discipline. Something you clearly lack."

Minjeong leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. "And what do you have, Princess Perfect? Too much discipline? Lighten up. You might actually enjoy yourself."

Before Y/N could retort, the double doors swung open, and their instructor, a stern-faced noblewoman draped in heavy robes, entered the room. "Ladies, I trust you have reviewed today’s material?"

Minjeong and Y/N exchanged glances. Minjeong’s smirk deepened. Y/N groaned internally. This was going to be a long year.

☦☦☦☦☦☦☦☦

The lesson on proper dining etiquette had barely begun, and already, things were falling apart. Y/N carefully positioned her utensils, demonstrating the correct way to hold a fork, while Minjeong stabbed at her food like a warrior heading into battle.

"Minjeong," the instructor scolded, "do not use your knife like a weapon."

Minjeong grinned, twirling the utensil between her fingers. "But what if I need to fight off an assassin mid-dinner? Shouldn’t I be prepared?"

Y/N groaned. "The only thing you’ll be fighting is my patience."

Minjeong smirked and casually flicked a small piece of bread at Y/N’s plate. Y/N gasped. "Did you just—"

"I don’t know what you’re talking about," Minjeong said innocently, taking an exaggeratedly delicate sip of her tea.

Y/N narrowed her eyes, grabbed a sugar cube, and oh-so-discreetly flicked it at Minjeong’s lap. It hit its target perfectly. Minjeong glanced down, then up at Y/N, her smirk growing.

The war had begun.

✠✠✠✠✠✠✠

"A proper lady must curtsy with grace and dignity," the instructor declared, demonstrating with a flawless dip. "Now, your turn."

Y/N went first, executing a textbook-perfect curtsy. Minjeong clapped slowly. "Marvelous. Truly inspiring."

Then it was Minjeong’s turn.

She took a step forward, bent her knees—

And promptly lost her balance, toppling sideways onto Y/N.

The two of them crashed onto the floor in a heap, Y/N shrieking as Minjeong’s weight knocked the air out of her. The instructor gasped. The other students in the room froze. Minjeong, lying flat on her back, let out a content sigh. "Well, that went well."

Y/N shoved her off. "You are the absolute worst!"

The instructor pinched the bridge of her nose. "Again."

✠✠✠✠✠✠✠

"A lady always sits with grace and poise," the instructor said, demonstrating with a perfect straight-backed posture. "Minjeong, your turn."

Minjeong flopped onto the chair like a sack of potatoes, legs sprawled. "Nailed it."

The instructor choked on air. "That is NOT how a princess sits!"

Minjeong gave her a lazy grin. "You’re just jealous I’m more comfortable."

The instructor’s eye twitched. "Sit properly. Now."

Minjeong sighed, shifted slightly, and exaggeratedly crossed her legs in an overly dramatic display of elegance, complete with an unnecessary hair flip.

Y/N buried her face in her hands. "I give up."

✠✠✠✠✠✠✠

A lesson in proper conversation had quickly devolved into a mess. Y/N spoke with precision, carefully choosing her words, while Minjeong… well.

"How do you address a foreign noble when greeting them?" the instructor asked.

Y/N straightened. "You bow respectfully and say, 'It is an honor to meet you, Your Grace.'"

Minjeong slouched. "Sup."

The instructor turned red. "Absolutely not."

Y/N groaned, rubbing her temples. "You are impossible."

Minjeong smirked. "Oh, I’m sorry, Princess Perfect. Let me try again." She sat up straighter, cleared her throat, and in the most exaggeratedly posh voice possible, said, "Dearest esteemed noble, it is my humblest of pleasures to bask in your divine presence!"

Y/N smacked her arm. "Just stop talking."

Minjeong grinned. "Make me."

A scuffle broke out, Y/N trying to shove Minjeong off her chair while Minjeong laughed, dodging every attempt.

Their instructor sighed. "I am so tired."

☦☦☦☦☦☦☦☦

The training grounds of the neutral castle stretched wide under the afternoon sun, the air filled with the metallic clang of practice swords and the grunts of struggling students. Dust kicked up from the dirt as trainees sparred, each determined to prove their worth.

Royalty wasn’t just about looking elegant at banquets or knowing the right words to say at political gatherings. It was also about strength—about defending one’s land, one’s people, and, if necessary, oneself. Both Minjeong and Y/N had been raised with this knowledge, though their approaches to combat were vastly different. Minjeong had taken to it like a fish to water, excelling with ease. Y/N, on the other hand, had spent more time perfecting curtsies than sword swings.

And it showed.

Minjeong stood off to the side, arms crossed, watching with an amused smirk as Y/N struggled with her wooden sword. She had barely managed to hold it properly, let alone swing it with any precision.

“You know, you’re supposed to hit the target, not wave at it,” Minjeong teased, her voice dripping with amusement.

Y/N huffed, gripping the sword tighter. “I know that!” she snapped, swinging again. The wooden blade wobbled in her grasp, missing the practice dummy by a frustratingly wide margin.

Minjeong chuckled, stepping closer. “Here, let me help.”

Y/N whirled to face her. “No! I don’t need your help.”

Minjeong raised an eyebrow. “Oh? So you’re planning on making a fool of yourself all on your own?”

Y/N scowled, her face heating up. “I just need practice.”

“Right,” Minjeong drawled, rolling her eyes. “And at this rate, you’ll be an expert by the time we’re both ancient.”

Y/N growled in frustration as Minjeong stepped behind her without asking, reaching out to adjust Y/N’s grip. “Relax your shoulders,” she murmured, her breath warm against Y/N’s ear. “If you hold it like that, you’re going to lose balance.”

Y/N stiffened but didn’t pull away. Minjeong’s hands covered hers, effortlessly guiding the wooden sword into a proper stance. “There. Try again.”

Y/N, still annoyed but secretly grateful, took another swing. This time, the sword struck the practice dummy—though weakly.

Minjeong clapped mockingly. “Oh, amazing! Truly a warrior is born.”

Y/N turned and jabbed her elbow into Minjeong’s side. “Shut up.”

Minjeong laughed, stepping back. “Alright, alright. Keep practicing, Princess. Maybe one day you’ll be able to actually hit something on purpose.”

Y/N grumbled under her breath but swung again, this time with more determination.

Minjeong smirked. Teasing her was fun—but watching her try was even better.

A short while later, their instructor approached, his sharp gaze taking in Y/N’s stiff posture and Minjeong’s relaxed stance. “You two,” he called out, beckoning them forward. “Let’s see how you do in a proper spar.”

Y/N’s eyes widened. “A spar?”

Minjeong’s grin widened. “Finally, something entertaining.”

The instructor gestured to the center of the training ground. “Take your positions.”

Y/N swallowed thickly but stepped forward. Minjeong followed, twirling her wooden sword effortlessly in one hand. “Don’t worry, princess,” she said with a smirk. “I’ll go easy on you.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes, gripping her weapon. “Don’t you dare.”

Minjeong tilted her head, amused. “Oh? Feisty now?”

Before Y/N could respond, the instructor clapped his hands. “Begin!”

Minjeong lunged, moving with the speed of someone who had years of training. Y/N barely managed to block the attack, her arms straining under the impact. Minjeong pushed forward, forcing Y/N to stumble back.

“You need to keep your footing,” Minjeong advised, stepping around her with practiced ease. “Otherwise, you’re just—”

Y/N, acting purely on instinct, swung wildly. Minjeong dodged effortlessly. “—making it too easy.”

Frustrated, Y/N gritted her teeth and tried again. This time, Minjeong let her get close before disarming her with a single flick of her wrist. The wooden sword clattered to the ground.

The instructor sighed. “Again.”

Y/N retrieved her sword, setting her jaw as she faced Minjeong once more. Minjeong’s smirk remained, but there was a flicker of something else in her eyes—interest, maybe? Curiosity? Whatever it was, it made Y/N even more determined.

She would get better. She would prove she belonged here. And most importantly—she would wipe that smug grin off Minjeong’s face.

✠✠✠✠✠✠✠

“Protection is just as important as technique,” the instructor said, handing them both training helmets.

Minjeong slipped hers on easily, adjusting the strap. Y/N, however, struggled. The oversized helmet wobbled on her head, nearly covering her eyes.

Minjeong tilted her head. “You look like a turtle.”

Y/N shoved at the helmet in frustration. “I can’t see! How am I supposed to fight like this?”

Minjeong leaned in, barely holding back laughter. “Maybe your opponents will take pity on you.”

Y/N scowled. “I hate you.”

Minjeong grinned. “I know.”

✠✠✠✠✠✠✠

The instructor demonstrated a proper stance, nodding for the students to follow. Y/N adjusted her grip, determined to get it right.

Then, a gust of wind blew her training cloak straight into her face.

Minjeong snorted. "Oh no, the mighty warrior has been bested by the elements."

Y/N yanked the fabric away, her glare burning. "I swear, if you laugh—"

Minjeong was already laughing.

✠✠✠✠✠✠✠

Minjeong twirled her wooden sword in a lazy arc. “Alright, princess. Last round. Try not to embarrass yourself.”

Y/N gripped her sword tightly. She had had enough of Minjeong’s smugness.

Minjeong lunged first, expecting another easy block—but Y/N, fueled by sheer frustration, dodged and swung with all her might.

The wooden blade smacked Minjeong right in the stomach with a loud THWACK.

Minjeong let out an undignified grunt, stumbling back.

Silence. Then—

Y/N’s eyes widened. “Oh.”

Minjeong hunched over, blinking down at where she had been hit. Y/N swore she saw the gears turning in her head. Then Minjeong looked up, a slow, wicked grin spreading across her face.

“Oh?” Minjeong echoed, stepping forward. “You think you’re funny, don’t you?”

Y/N took a cautious step back. “It was an accident.”

Minjeong raised her sword. “I’m about to make sure it wasn’t.”

Y/N shrieked and bolted, Minjeong chasing after her.

The instructor sighed. “I need a vacation.”

☦☦☦☦☦☦☦☦

The royal history classroom was as grand as one would expect from a palace dedicated to diplomacy. Towering bookshelves lined the walls, filled with centuries-old texts detailing wars, treaties, and the legacies of rulers long gone. A massive chandelier hung from the ceiling, casting golden light over the long mahogany table where students were seated.

Minjeong lounged in her chair, arms crossed, eyes half-lidded in boredom. Across from her, Y/N sat upright, posture perfect, a quill in hand as she took meticulous notes. Their instructor, an elderly scholar with a thinning beard and an ever-present frown, droned on about the importance of historical alliances between kingdoms.

"And so, the Treaty of Eldenvale ensured peace between the rival factions, bringing about a golden age of prosperity..." the instructor lectured, his voice monotone.

Minjeong let out a dramatic sigh, shifting in her seat. "This is so dull."

Y/N shot her a glare. "It wouldn’t be dull if you actually paid attention."

Minjeong smirked. "Oh, I am paying attention. I’m just questioning how much of this is actually relevant."

The instructor cleared his throat. "Lady Minjeong, since you seem so engaged, why don’t you enlighten us on the role your kingdom played in the Eastern Wars?"

Minjeong grinned, sitting up. "Gladly. My kingdom was the strongest force in the war. We led the battles, outmaneuvered our enemies, and secured the greatest victories. Without us, the war would’ve been lost in the first year."

Y/N scoffed, setting her quill down with a bit more force than necessary. "That is the most biased retelling I’ve ever heard. Your kingdom wasn’t the strongest. My kingdom was the one that provided strategy and resources. Without us, your so-called victories would have never happened."

Minjeong raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Is that what they tell you in your kingdom? That you were the masterminds behind everything? That’s adorable."

Y/N narrowed her eyes. "It’s called facts. You should try reading about them instead of making things up."

Minjeong leaned forward, her smirk widening. "Alright, princess. If your kingdom was so superior, why did it need our soldiers to do the actual fighting?"

Y/N mirrored her movement, leaning in as well. "And if your kingdom was so superior, why did it take our diplomats to negotiate the treaties that saved you from complete ruin?"

A tense silence fell over the classroom as the other students turned to watch, some whispering amongst themselves. The instructor sighed, rubbing his temples. "This is a discussion on history, not a battlefield. Let’s attempt to keep it civilized."

Neither girl budged.

Minjeong tilted her head. "Let’s be real here. My kingdom has always been the most powerful. We have the best warriors, the strongest defenses—"

"—the most reckless leaders," Y/N interrupted. "Charging into battles with brute force is hardly a sign of intelligence. If anything, it proves that my kingdom’s strategic planning was the reason you even survived."

Minjeong let out a sharp laugh. "Strategic planning? More like excessive hesitation. If your kingdom had led the war, we’d still be fighting it."

Y/N’s grip on her quill tightened. "And if your kingdom had led the war alone, there wouldn’t be a kingdom left standing."

Minjeong placed a hand over her chest, feigning offense. "Oh, dear princess, do you really think so little of us?"

"I know so little of you. Because your kingdom’s history is nothing but exaggerated tales of conquest."

Minjeong’s smirk faltered for half a second before she composed herself. "And your kingdom’s history is nothing but embellished stories about how great your rulers think they are."

"Because they were great," Y/N snapped. "Unlike yours, which—"

"Enough!" the instructor finally barked, slamming his book shut. "I will not have my classroom turned into a battleground for childish rivalries. You are both future rulers. Act like it."

Minjeong and Y/N slowly sat back, though their glares remained locked on each other.

The instructor sighed deeply. "Since you both seem so passionate about history, I expect a joint paper from the two of you detailing both perspectives on the Eastern Wars. Together."

Minjeong groaned. "You’re joking."

Y/N's face paled. "I refuse."

The instructor gave them a pointed look. "You will do it, and you will do it without trying to kill each other. Dismissed."

Minjeong slumped in her chair. "Fantastic. Stuck writing a report with you."

Y/N exhaled sharply, gathering her materials. "Believe me, the feeling is mutual."

As they exited the classroom, Minjeong glanced sideways at Y/N. "So… whose room are we doing this in?"

"Neither," Y/N replied immediately. "I refuse to be in your space, and I definitely don’t want you in mine."

Minjeong smirked. "Afraid you’ll get distracted by my charm?"

Y/N didn’t dignify that with a response.

This was going to be a very long assignment.

☦☦☦☦☦☦☦☦

The library was dimly lit, the golden glow of lanterns casting long shadows across the towering shelves. The grand table in the center was buried beneath stacks of books, loose parchment, and an absurd number of ink pots—most of them Y/N’s, because she refused to let Minjeong use hers.

Minjeong leaned back in her chair, balancing precariously on two legs as she flipped lazily through an open book. “This is pointless.”

Y/N didn’t even glance up from her writing. “This is research.”

“This is busywork.” Minjeong snapped the book shut, tossing it onto the table. “We already know what happened in the war. Why do we need to write an entire paper about it?”

“Because that’s what an assignment is,” Y/N said through gritted teeth. “You wouldn’t understand, considering you’ve never done one properly in your life.”

Minjeong smirked. “And yet, I still manage to pass. Impressive, isn’t it?”

Y/N slammed her quill down, glaring. “No, it’s infuriating.”

Minjeong stretched her arms behind her head, her chair creaking. “You’re just mad I don’t have to try as hard as you do.”

Y/N scoffed, snatching a book from the pile. “I’m mad because you’re useless.”

Minjeong’s chair thudded to the floor as she sat forward, grinning. “Useless? Princess, you’d be lost without me.”

“Oh, really?” Y/N challenged. “Because the only thing you’ve done in the last hour is complain and take up space.”

“I contribute,” Minjeong said, smirking.

Y/N crossed her arms. “How?”

“I’m keeping you entertained.”

Y/N groaned, rubbing her temples. “You are exhausting.”

“And you are uptight,” Minjeong shot back. “Honestly, Y/N, do you ever relax?”

“Do you ever take anything seriously?”

Minjeong shrugged. “Not when it’s this boring.”

Y/N’s patience finally snapped. “Then leave. No one’s forcing you to be here.”

Minjeong leaned forward, her smirk widening. “Oh, but they are. Unfortunately, I’m stuck with you.”

Y/N glared, voice dripping with venom. “Trust me, I would rather be paired with anyone else.”

Minjeong’s grin remained unfazed. “Oh? Even Jimin?”

Silence.

The air between them turned to ice.

Y/N’s entire body went rigid, her breath catching in her throat. Her fingers curled into fists against the parchment, ink smudging beneath her grip.

Minjeong’s smirk faded the second she realized what she had just said.

Jimin.

Jimin, Y/N’s sister.

Jimin, who had practically raised Y/N when their parents were too busy with court affairs to notice their existence. Who used to braid Y/N’s hair when they were little, humming softly while the candlelight flickered in their shared bedroom.

Jimin, who had died screaming.

Minjeong swallowed, suddenly feeling like she had stepped over a line that should never have been crossed.

Y/N’s voice, when it came, was barely above a whisper. “What did you just say?”

Minjeong hesitated. “I—”

Y/N’s chair scraped violently against the floor as she stood. Her eyes were wide, her face pale, but it was the tears brimming at the edges of her lashes that made Minjeong feel like she had been punched in the stomach.

Minjeong opened her mouth, trying to fix what she had broken. “Y/N, I didn’t mean—”

“Shut up.” Y/N’s voice wavered, but her glare was sharper than steel. “Just shut up.”

She wasn’t just angry—she was shaking.

Minjeong felt her own heart pound as the weight of what she had said finally sunk in. She had only meant it as a petty jab, another snarky retort in their never-ending battle of words. But instead, she had ripped open a wound that had never fully healed.

Jimin.

Her older sister. The one Y/N had idolized more than anyone in the world. The one who used to ruffle her hair and call her baby bird. The one who would always promise, I’ll protect you, no matter what.

The one who had died before Y/N even turned five.

Y/N didn’t have many memories of Jimin. Only flashes—her laughter, her warm embrace, the way she always smelled of lilacs.

But she remembered the stories.

Jimin had been the pride of the kingdom. A natural-born warrior, both graceful and fierce. Every knight had believed she would one day become the greatest commander their forces had ever seen.

But then, during what was supposed to be a routine diplomatic journey, bandits had attacked the royal caravan. Jimin had been young, but she had already been stronger than most seasoned knights. She had fought until the very end.

And when the dust settled, the only thing that had been brought back was her bloodstained sword.

Y/N never saw her again.

And no one ever spoke of her in front of her. Not because they had forgotten, but because they knew.

They knew Y/N had spent years trying to live up to a ghost.

They knew she still felt the weight of her sister’s absence every time she held a sword, every time she stepped into the throne room, every time someone looked at her and expected greatness.

Minjeong raised her hand, her voice softer. “Y/N, I—”

“Fuck off.”

Minjeong froze.

The words weren’t yelled, weren’t screamed—but they were final.

Y/N’s throat bobbed as she swallowed back the sob threatening to escape. Then she turned on her heel and shoved past Minjeong, her footsteps echoing sharply against the stone floor as she stormed out of the library.

Minjeong didn’t chase her.

For the first time in a long time, she had nothing to say.

��☦☦☦☦☦☦☦

The sun sat low in the sky, casting a golden glow over the neutral castle’s training grounds. The courtyard buzzed with the murmur of squires and knights preparing for the day’s drills, but all of that noise faded into the background as Minjeong stood stiffly beside Y/N, arms crossed, expression unreadable.

They hadn’t spoken since that night in the library. Since Minjeong had said something she shouldn’t have. Since Y/N had looked at her like she had truly hurt her.

And now, as if fate itself had a cruel sense of humor, they were being forced to work together.

“Pair assignments have been posted,” the instructor announced, his gravelly voice carrying over the courtyard. “Today, you will be strategizing and executing a simulated battle scenario. And before anyone complains—no, you may not change partners.”

Minjeong exhaled sharply, forcing herself to keep her reaction contained. Y/N, standing rigid beside her, didn’t even look her way. She hadn’t since they arrived.

The instructor clapped his hands. “The goal is simple—navigate the forest path, evade pursuit, and reach the marker point before the other teams. You will be given a limited number of supplies, and success will depend on your ability to plan ahead and—” his eyes landed pointedly on Minjeong and Y/N “—cooperate.”

Y/N’s hands clenched into fists at her sides, but she said nothing.

Minjeong rolled her shoulders. This was going to be a long day.

The first half hour passed in silence.

They had been given a single horse and a small satchel of supplies. While the other teams had rushed ahead, Minjeong and Y/N lingered at the forest’s edge, locked in a stubborn standoff.

“We need a plan,” Y/N finally said, breaking the silence. “We can’t just run in blindly.”

Minjeong leaned against a tree, picking at the leather of her gloves. “Agreed. But I assume you already have one, Princess Perfect?”

Y/N’s jaw tightened, but she didn’t rise to the bait. “We take the east route—denser cover, fewer ambush points. If we move carefully, we can get ahead without being spotted.”

Minjeong hummed. “Logical.”

Y/N eyed her warily. “You’re agreeing with me?”

Minjeong pushed off the tree, smirking. “Don’t sound so surprised.”

Y/N huffed, turning toward the horse. “We should ride together, conserve energy.”

Minjeong stepped closer, tilting her head. “You expect me to let you steer?”

Y/N turned, meeting her gaze with something sharp. “I expect you to not be reckless for once.”

Minjeong’s smirk faltered just slightly, but she covered it up with a shrug. “Fine. But if we get lost, I reserve the right to say I told you so.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Just get on the horse.”

Minjeong swung up first, settling into the saddle before reaching a hand down. Y/N hesitated for a fraction of a second before accepting the help. As she settled in front of Minjeong, the proximity was unavoidable.

Minjeong stiffened slightly when Y/N adjusted her grip on the reins, her back pressing lightly against her chest. It was… unfamiliar. They had fought, bickered, and gotten under each other’s skin for years, but this was different.

She caught the way Y/N exhaled slowly, as if steeling herself.

Minjeong hated that she noticed.

The ride was smoother than Minjeong expected. Y/N, to her credit, handled the horse well, her posture perfect, her commands steady. Despite the lingering tension between them, they moved as one, the rhythm of the horse’s strides syncing with their breaths.

“I should be surprised you know how to ride,” Minjeong murmured after a while, breaking the silence.

Y/N’s grip on the reins tightened. “I know more than you think.”

Minjeong hummed. “Mm. And yet, you still flinch whenever you hold a sword.”

Y/N stiffened, but before she could snap at her, Minjeong continued, voice softer than usual. “I wasn’t mocking you. Just observing.”

Y/N didn’t reply immediately. Instead, she pressed her lips together, staring ahead at the winding path. “Not all battles are fought with swords.”

Minjeong tilted her head slightly, considering her words. “True.”

The silence stretched again, but this time, it wasn’t quite as sharp.

As they mounted the horse again, Y/N hesitated before speaking. “You were right, earlier.”

Minjeong raised an eyebrow. “About what? I say a lot of things.”

Y/N sighed, clearly regretting her choice of words. “About being able to fight without a sword.”

Minjeong tilted her head, waiting.

Y/N exhaled. “Jimin always fought with one. I thought… maybe if I could, too, I’d be more like her.”

Minjeong was quiet for a moment before she murmured, “You don’t have to be like her.”

Y/N swallowed. “I know.”

And maybe, for the first time, she actually believed it.

Minjeong exhaled, glancing away for a moment before speaking, her voice uncharacteristically careful. “I was out of line that night.”

Y/N blinked, surprised at the admission.

Minjeong clenched her jaw slightly, before forcing herself to continue. “I didn’t mean to bring her up like that. It was cruel, and I was just trying to get under your skin. I—” she hesitated, running a hand through her hair before sighing. “I hurt you, and I hate that I did.”

Y/N was silent for a long moment before finally, she nodded. “You did.”

Minjeong swallowed. “I’m sorry.”

Y/N’s grip on the reins tightened slightly, then loosened. Finally, she nodded again. “Alright.”

Minjeong didn’t expect anything more. But somehow, the air between them felt lighter.

She smirked, leaning forward. “I still can’t believe you laughed.”

Y/N groaned. “Shut up, Minjeong.”

Minjeong smirked, nudging the horse forward. “Make me.”

This time, Y/N didn’t snap back.

She just shook her head, a small—almost imperceptible—smile playing at the corner of her lips.

Maybe, just maybe, this hadn’t been so bad after all.

☦☦☦☦☦☦☦☦

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 ; 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭

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