#i need to know if people read posts this long

[dreamsteddie]

Companion piece to my Stobin childhood friends au post because try as I might to resist it, the Steddie brain rot will take over.

Robin and Steve are thick as thieves from that first day of preschool. Their matching friendship bracelets don't fit anymore and have found homes in their "secret friendship treasure chest" which is a shoe box covered in construction paper decorations that lives under Robin's bed so Steve's parents don't throw away any of his "trash" again. They've started a tradition of making a new one for each other at the start of every year so everyone remembers they're best friends, though.

Halfway through first grade (Robin got to start school a year early like the Buckleys hoped) things are going great for Robin. She gets to bring books home from the library and their teacher complimented her drawing of a robin and she helped Steve pass his spelling test last week, so as far as she's concerned this is the best year ever.

Right up until Eddie Munson transfers to their school.

At first, Robin doesn't know that Eddie will be her arch-nemesis. When he's introduced to the class, all she really thinks about him is that he looks a little funny but seems nice. He's got really big eyes and he's taller than most of the other kids with long, gangly limbs. His hair is shaved down to his head, but there are other boys in class who are the same. He gets placed at the table group to the left of them in the chair closest to Steve's.

She very quickly forgets about him as the day continues as normal. Robin thinks math block is boring, she'd much rather read her books or play with Steve at recess but her parents said knowing your shapes is important, so she pays extra special attention. That's why she doesn't catch the little wave Steve, ever the social butterfly, gives to the boy across the way or the way Eddie's eyes go even bigger and a soft blush steals across his cheeks.

What she does notice is when Eddie comes up to them in the last few precious minutes of recess slightly sweaty and out of breath holding a little white daisy.

"Hi! I'm Eddie, I'm new!" he says, shouting really, looking directly at Steve.

"Oh, hi Eddie! I'm Steve, this is my bestest friend, Robin." Steve replies.

"Like the bird?" Eddie asks.

"Yeah! They're orange."

"And I hate orange!" Robin buts in, not willing to be left out of the conversation

"Yeah, it's really sad. They should be blue, that's Robin's favorite color." Steve says, real disappointment creeping into his voice. "Who's that for?" he asks, pointing to the forgotten daisy.

"Oh! It's for you! I was out all recess looking for the best one in the field. They kind of match your shirt!' Eddie says proudly, referencing Steve's polo with the yellow body and white sleeves. It's one of his favorites.

"Really? That's so nice, thank you!" Steve exclaims as he takes the little flower into his hands.

Robin's mom says that sometimes when you want to be someone's friend, it's good to start by giving them something nice. Robin's mom says that she should try and make more friends, maybe some girls instead of just Steve, but when Robin tries to talk to the other girls in class, she gets nervous and clams up. She thinks she might be allergic to them. Plus, why would she need more friends when she has Steve, who is worth at least three normal friends.

Steve gets along with everyone, he lends people erasers and pencils and shares his blocks with the other kids when he's allowed to bring them out of his cubby, but no one is his best friend like Robin is.

No one has ever given Steve flowers before, though. That feels like an extra special kind of gift that someone would give if they wanted to be really good friends, and Robin doesn't want that. Steve is her best friend, he doesn't need another one.

"Steve, we gotta go get in line before all the other kids! We don't want to be last!" she blurts out, grabbing Steve by the hand and dragging him across the asphalt to where the teachers are getting ready to call everyone to get in line before Eddie can catch up.

Once they've got their places, she looks back at Steve behind her to see he's turned around. She peaks her head around him and sees him smiling wide at an equally smiley Eddie who's about 5 kids behind them, each of them waving happily at each other.

Oh yeah, Robin is going to have to keep an eye on him.

[akascow]

yet another JAYVIK post about the Butterfly Effect :3

also spoilers lol

So Hextech isn't invented in Ekko's alternate timeline, and I feel like since life seemed so much better without Hextech there can be a couple things to infer about alternate Jayce and, by association, our Jayce (and Viktor!) here:

this is a long one and my long posts never get notes but i promise its actually super interesting to think about so u should totally read through it 🧎🏻‍���️‍➡️🔥

1. Intriguing:

(and also my favorite one bc its Very JayVik lmao)

alternate Jayce never pursued Hextech after the explosion: maybe too guilty over killing someone (because we see alternate Vi died from that explosion during the kids' robbery), he does what Heimerdinger advises him to: fully admitting his crimes and not mentioning the arcane. And we can assume the academy burned all his studies too becauseeeeee…

Viktor never endorsed it. Assuming the admission of guilt theory is correct- Viktor never would’ve even known about the arcane in the first place, because Jayce would never mention it in the council room trial. Viktor would never know that the arcane can be used to help cure people, which we see is what piques his interest in the first place. And like, obviously Viktor wants to cure his leg and illness lol

Which means Viktor never interrupted Jayce's suicide attempt after the trial and Jayce probably goes through with killing himself, Viktor never went to check on him. It seems the compelling force behind Viktor’s interrupting in season 1 was initially from Jayce’s journal, which he picks up while browsing all the Hextech equipment they were planning to destroy. Viktor only really looks at the notes because he was interested in the arcane in the first place, which again, can't happen if Jayce never mentions it in the council room. 

Which is SO important to the plot and me that everything happened the exact way that it did for everything to succeed (which is quite literally the butterfly effect btw lmao). Because it shows how extremely important Jayce and Viktor’s partnership was to not only their own lives, but the entire future of Piltover, good or bad ie no hextech=no shimmer and peace between the cities, hextech= tons of shimmer, the corruption of the arcane, and the destruction of piltover.

Jayce needed someone there to believe in him, and that was Viktor: After the council disagrees with him, and he’s kicked out of the academy and banned from studying the arcane, he tries to find comfort with his mother. She’s the one who was saved using the arcane in the first place after all, so surely she’ll understand. But she tells him to give up on this dream, a dream he’s had almost his entire life. His own mother doesn’t believe in him.

He then goes to the Kiramman’s because “I'll find someone to believe in me,”  most likely assuming if they sponsored his studies in the first place, they would still support him after the trial. But they kick him out from the Kiramman household too, as well as forbid his and Caitlyn’s friendship. And with no one left, the very next scene we see of him is as he’s deciding to jump. 

The only thing that stops him is Viktor showing up. With an interest in the Hextech theory after he reads Jayce’s notes, Viktor wants to help Jayce make the Hextech a reality. Viktor believes in him, and he supports him. That interaction is what leads to their partnership forming, them sneaking back into the lab, grabbing the Hextech equipment and showing Mel and Heimerdinger that it was possible to create magic, and Mel's influence leading to the council’s support and the okay on continuing to develop Hextech together, projecting Piltover into success (and of course accelerating it into ruin, seen in s2. but I won’t get into that snowballing effect here because we’ll be here for hours)

Also, Viktor would be against Hextech if his first and only introduction to seeing it was as a tool to invoke harm (on a Zaunite especially). Which is what would drive Viktor away from investigating it, and before their theory ever even has the chance to get off the ground or evolve, it's already dead in the water for good because:

Something both of them, but especially Viktor, have been extremely against during the entire show was that their plans for Hextech WILL NOT be used as weapons to kill or harm, only to make lives better (especially in the undercity). Think about it: Viktor only adamantly opposed using the Hexcore AFTER it killed Skye.

The guilty conscience of accidentally killing another person with his own technology would not have helped Jayce’s mental state either lol. Like, think about the DIRECT PARALLEL in our timeline: where Viktor almost jumps and kills himself, after Skye's death, as a result of his tampering with the Hexcore, before Jayce interrupts him (ohhh their mirroring, it hurts me)

2. Adjacent:

If not from jumping, then alternate Jayce was arrested or exiled… I mean like, he inadvertently killed a young Zaunite girl. That's a lot more consequential to his conscience, reputation, house name AND criminal record than just the building blowing up in our timeline. It’s pretty vague if anyone died in our timeline from it, I think the most that’s mentioned is some people were injured (“Was anyone hurt?” “A building was blown to bits, what do you think?”) so it would weigh heavier on Jayce’s shoulders if someone actually died in this timeline.

Also remember: he felt so guilty about accidentally killing a child with his hammer in s1, that he gave up entirely on trying to wipe out the production of Shimmer. Once he sees how his Hextech can be used against someone, he drops all his plans because "thats not what we created Hextech for"

From that theory, I'm assuming more-so that he was exiled though? Because Heimerdinger said he was in the alternate timeline for like 3 years and couldn't find Jayce, so I don't know... plus I feel like he would have found Jayce in jail if he was there lol.

And beforeeeee anyone yaps, ik Heimerdinger actually said he thinks Jayce ended up somewhere else, and never specifically stated that he "couldn't find Jayce". BUT from the end, since we see two Ekko's before he goes back to the main timeline, we can assume that the original person's mind inhabits the other's body so that there aren't like paradoxical two people in one place at the same time. 

SO theoretically, Heimerdinger actually does go looking for Jayce, and if he found the alternate timeline's Jayce, he probably would've mentioned it to Ekko when asked if Jayce was there too… right? I’m assuming he was hanging around Ekko for most of the 3 years that he was there, waiting for our Ekko to be projected into the alternate Ekko, because it's not like Heimerdinger just happened to show up right when our Ekko gets there, he might’ve assumed it would happen eventually. And when the alternate Ekko starts freaking out about being in the wrong universe, it's pretty clear that this is his Ekko now lol

But then why stick around Ekko and not Jayce? I guess he was currently closer to Ekko, calling him his current pupil, and given that he was the one who showed him the Firelights community and gave him hope. Plus I mean, Jayce literally voted him off the council from a disagreement over the Hexcore so there's some salt in the wound there lmao. Or maybe because Ekko is a lot younger and would not react as calmly or rationally as Jayce would (I'm assuming... idrk HAHA). You could argue that Heimerdinger was just visiting both of them back and forth, but again if he couldn't find any Jayce, then I think it would explain why he doesn’t mention any Jayce at all, and that's where this make the most sense, at least to me.

3. Lesser:

alternate Jayce also died in the explosion with Vi- When we see it in our timeline, he and Vi were the closest to the blast. If it killed Vi, it would’ve presumably killed Jayce too. And if he did die, then obviously Hextech would never be invented, reasons being: everything I just mentioned in the previous theories.. but like, even more simplified bc he wasn't there to begin with lol

I only say it's a weaker theory because Heimerdinger definitely would've seen a memorial for him (or at the very least a gravestone), given Jayce was in the Talis house and under the study of the Kiramman family, it was a pretty high status name compared to the average Piltovian citizen, and probably wouldn’t be silenced or brushed away… 

Although to counter that, I guess since everything in the over city is super status-y, maybe the Kiramman’s wouldn't want their name being tied with the death of two people, which is a similar but obviously more significant reason to why they kicked him out of their house in our timeline after the trial, his “name is no good now.” Plus we hear in the council trial from Ximena that the Talis family is a lower house too, and their voice doesn’t hold as much weight, so maybe it wouldn’t actually have that much mention? He hasn’t become the “Man of Progress” yet either since he’d never get to finish his studies…hmmmmm idk

anyway thats all i have. if you made it this far i greatly appreciate you :3 🫶🏻 i love analyzing this show because OUGH the jayvik butterfly effect goes CRAZY HARD bc its both figurative with the theory and literal with the butterflies being in SO MUCH of their imagery UGHHHHH what the FUCKKKK

[beka-tiddalik]

I had a great birth experience with both of my kids but uh anyone telling you it was effortless are either lying or selling you something or both.

I've got chronic pain and I'd picked up from my midwife and further reading that painkillers wouldn't do much useful during the birth so I avoided them for as long as possible. For my first I ended up needing an epidural anyway because around hour 17 they decided I needed an emergency caesarean.

Anyway I need you to all understand that childbirth was not the worst pain of my life. Nerve pain and broken bones hurts a lot more.

BUT.

It was bloody intense. You know the feeling when you've been running as hard as you can for as long as you can and you didnt train enough and you can see the finish line so you need to keep pushing yourself past your reserves to get there and your entire body is begging for rest and has been for the last half of the race?

So imagine that you're doing that but you can't see the finish line and you can't quit until the baby is out and they'll keep telling you you're nearly done and they're Guessing.

Sure, once the baby is out you get the world's most intense rush of hormonal euphoria but still. Intense.

People do it every day. I had an emergency caesarean after 17 hours of labour the first time and the second time was 5 hours, almost all natural barring a bit of vacuum on the last push.

When they gave me the epidural for the caesarean the first time it was awesome because I could tap out, my job was done. Then I had to rehab myself for 6 weeks post surgery with a newborn.

The second time I was up and walking around and having a shower within an hour once the baby was out and felt great much sooner.

I would classify neither of those births as traumatic and Still I have to emphasise that it took a lot of mental fortitude and some good midwives to make them that way. They were still 2 of the most intense days of my life.

Is the reward worth it? Sure, I love my kids. They're what I wanted. Going through childbirth successfully felt very affirming in some ways.

Do I think anyone should approach childbirth lightly? Hell no, the next closest amount of physical alteration people undergo in a single event is in something like a car crash.

There's no one right way to do it, and everyone is going to experience things differently, but don't Lie to people and tell them it's easy or fun.

It's a challenge that you can choose to rise to (assuming you have the requisite parts) but it doesn't make anyone less of a parent to not find their joy and/or affirmation in one hard day of physical labour.

losers in the notes of that post like “actually giving birth was perfectly great for me! I had a good time! it was effortless and I am the divine feminine! don’t let this post scare you!” you don’t get an award for not having birth complications and your individual experience shouldn’t be used as evidence that birth is not often traumatic

[glossdebut]

PRICE OF FAME | MYG ★ 02

✧ PAIRING: yoongi x fem!reader

✧ SERIES SUMMARY: You were about ready to give up, your career nowhere near what you dreamed it’d be when you started at eighteen, bright-eyed and naive. Reality for you these past few years has consisted of pouting at a camera, ignoring whispers of your name at company events, and ensuring that the stupid, tiny designer purses they keep forcing on you can at least carry a flask. But now, you’re helping a friend in need. For the first time in a long time, it feels like you’re doing something worthwhile with your life. Too bad Min Yoongi, the newest thorn in your side, seems insistent on stopping you.

✧ SERIES TAGS: enemies to lovers, slow burn, angst, smut, fake/pretend relationship (not main couple), rockstar!yoongi, model!reader, guitarist yoongi, singer jungkook, bassist taehyung, drummer jimin, manager namjoon, yoongi & maknae line are in a rock band, reader & seokjin are best friends, yoongi & hoseok are best friends (sope duo ftw), yoongi has a tongue piercing, reader is a brat

✧ CHAPTER WARNINGS: aqua uses her journalism degree to write a fake article, lots of yoongi pov, MC lore drop, extremely brief descriptions of sexual acts, some questions are answered but not many, sope cameo! also seokjin cameo! do you detect a hint of hyyh yoonkook-ism? because you should! EVENTS TRANSPIRE! (see series masterlist for series warnings)

✧ CHAPTER WORDCOUNT: 5.2k words

✧ AUTHOR’S NOTE: damn i always drop early don't i? here's a pre-holiday gift for those of you who celebrate thanksgiving. thank you to tanni @yooniivrse for beta reading SO FUCKING FAST LOL <3

p.s. from here on out updates are going to be much slower. we’re getting to the Real Plot now and i have to use my brain a little bit more. plus i want to make time to write other, shorter things! so be sure to check out my other fics if waiting for this becomes unbearable lol

CH. 02: A HIT IS HARD TO RESIST

Love in the Spotlight: Is "Burn The Stage" Singer Falling for a Scandal Magnet?

It’s the love story that’s rocking Seoul—and leaving fans divided. Jeon Jeongguk, the smooth-talking, chart-topping frontman of “Burn The Stage,” has been the subject of intense speculation after rumors surfaced that he’s been secretly seeing one of South Korea’s most talked about models, YLN YN. And while Jeongguk’s millions of fans would do anything to claim him as their own, it’s YN’s wild reputation that’s making this relationship one to watch.

The dating rumors of the two surfaced online when YN was seen on the balcony at Wasteland during the final show of the Burn The Stage’s world tour. Eyewitnesses claim that after the show, the two were spotted backstage together, sharing a private moment.

While Jeongguk’s image has been polished and pristine despite his rock star persona, YN’s name is frequently linked with controversy. From a string of public feuds with fellow influencers to rumors of reckless behavior, she has garnered a reputation for attracting scandal wherever she goes—a trait at odds with what fans have seen from Jeongguk. So what could possibly draw the two together?

Some fans are already sounding the alarm, warning Jeongguk that dating someone like YN could tarnish his squeaky-clean image.

“I don’t know why Jeongguk would choose her,” one concerned fan commented on Instagram. “She’s trouble, and he’s too good for her. His image will be ruined if this is true.”

Despite the criticism, others are rallying behind the couple, suggesting that Jeongguk may be the one to help YN change her ways. “Everyone has a past,” one fan posted on X (formerly known as Twitter). “Maybe Jeongguk sees something in her that no one else does. People can grow and evolve.”

While neither Jeongguk or YN’s companies have released an official statement on the matter, YN hasn’t been shy about fueling the rumors. In a recent post on her Instagram, she shared a photo of herself wearing a Burn The Stage hoodie, captioning it, “i guess i’ve got good taste 👀” which has sent fans into overdrive speculating that she’s sending a not-so-subtle message about her relationship with Jeongguk.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” Yoongi groans to himself. He can’t read any more of this drivel. The wooden table in front of him suddenly looks all too inviting, perfect for him to bash his skull into.

You’re everywhere, completely inescapable for the past week. Apparently, Yoongi’s bi-weekly breakfast with Hoseok is no exception. The first one they’ve been able to have since the tour, too. God forbid he wants to mindlessly scroll on his phone for a second while he waits for his friend to return, because there you are, taunting him. 

After the concert, Yoongi had been so annoyed by seeing you again. Pissed off at the circumstances. Ready to do anything in his power to extricate you from Jeongguk as fast as possible.

The past week has dulled his rage considerably. The endorphins of playing live have died, as have the potent emotions that come with them. Yoongi’s logical adult brain has set in, leaving him with only a headache.

“Woah,” Hoseok says, snorting as he slides a coffee into Yoongi’s field of vision. He slips into the booth across from him, taking a sip from his own cup with an amused look on his face. “You look much more homicidal than I left you. What could’ve possibly pissed you off in the last five minutes?”

Wordlessly, Yoongi hands Hoseok his phone, the article still displayed on the screen. Hoseok silently reads the first few paragraphs, and when he scrolls back up to look at the photo attached, his eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

“Oh?” he says, zooming in on your face. On Yoongi’s phone. The audacity. “This is the Innisfree girl, right? She’s dating Jeongguk?”

“Allegedly.”

“Is her skin really that nice in person?”

“Not the point,” Yoongi hisses, snatching his phone back from Hoseok’s grip and hastily closing the article to get your dumb face off of his phone. Dumb, poreless face.

“Okay, touchy,” Hoseok says, raising his hands in surrender. “Please explain the point.”

“I don’t trust her,” Yoongi says, tapping his foot under the table. “The relationship is bogus. She’s after something, I just can’t figure out what it is.”

“And you’re basing this on…?”

“Intuition,” Yoongi says flatly.

“Right. Because your intuition is never wrong,” Hoseok says, tone laden with sarcasm. “Need I remind you that you weren’t the biggest fan of me when we met?”

“I thought you were annoying,” Yoongi agrees. He takes a sip of his coffee to mask a smirk. “Who says I was wrong about that?”

“I’d probably be hurt if you hadn’t essentially bought us couple rings last year,” Hoseok says, waggling his eyebrows. “You want to fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid.”

“Aish, they weren’t couple rings,” Yoongi complains. “Stop saying that. The wrong person is going to hear you and think it’s true.”

“Your ears are pink!” Hoseok exclaims triumphantly, pointing at the evidence. “Your mouth says one thing, but your ears always give you away.”

“I’m going to kill you,” Yoongi grumbles, pulling his beanie down. “Stop changing the subject.”

“Right, right. Sorry, hyung, you’re just so easy to tease,” Hoseok says, not even bothering to stifle his snickering. The bastard. “Jeonggukie’s new lady love. Go. Wait, do you want to fuck her?”

“What?” Yoongi sputters, eyes widening because what the fuck? “No—what? Look, it’s not just intuition, okay? I’m right about her. And you saw what the article said—drama follows her wherever she goes. Maybe she thinks dating Jeongguk will rehabilitate her image, or something like that.”

Yoongi had been so confident that wasn’t the case, since you’ve maintained all of your brand deals even in the midst of your many scandals, but maybe he was wrong. He still doesn’t know why you’re doing this, and it’s like the closer he gets, the less he can see.

“I don’t know,” Yoongi groans, rubbing his hands over his face. “She’s also just a bitch.”

“Okay,” Hoseok concedes, crossing his arms. “If you say so. She’s a bitch who you don’t want to fuck. What are you going to do about it?”

Yoongi shrugs. “I have that dinner tomorrow night. I was thinking of talking to Jeongguk after or something.”

“And telling him that his girlfriend is the devil? I’m sure that’ll go over well.”

“I’ll figure it out,” Yoongi sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. “Jeongguk is a stubborn kid, but he knows I wouldn’t ruin something good for him. If I word it right, maybe he’ll listen.”

“You’re not wrong. For whatever reason, Jeongguk trusts your judgement.”

Yoongi glares at him. “Go fuck yourself, Hob-ah.”

“Whatever, hyung,” Hoseok says, rolling his eyes. “Let’s talk about something else, please. I haven’t seen you in months.”

Yoongi relents easily. He doesn’t really want to be talking about you either, not when it feels like an ice pick is being jammed into his temple. 

He’ll just have to figure out what to say to Jeongguk later.

★ ★ ★

“Wow,” Seokjin says around a mouthful of jjapaguri. “He really hates you, huh?”

He’s fresh out of a long shift at the hospital, but he still headed straight to your apartment at the promise of food and celebrity gossip—his two biggest weaknesses, especially when the food doesn’t have to be made by him and the celebrity is you.

“Seems like it,” you sigh, using your chopsticks to push your noodles around aimlessly. “Normally I wouldn’t care, you know? Like, get in line, asshole.”

“But you care.”

“But I care.”

“Because of Jeongguk,” Seokjin says knowingly.

You drop your chopsticks and groan, stifling the sound by covering your face with your hands.

“Yes,” you concede. “But not because of that. I just want to help him, you know? He got me through a really rough spot last year. I’d feel like shit if I agreed to do this for him and then it ended up blowing up in our faces because of me.”

“Mmm,” Seokjin hums, chewing thoughtfully. “I’m sure the fact that you’re in love with him is a big motivator, though.”

You pick up your head, glaring at him. “Love is a big word, Jin.”

A very big word, you think, picking up your glass of wine to take a long gulp. God help you.

“A fitting one, too!” he says gleefully. “Come oooon. No judgement here. He’s hot. Not as hot as me, of course, but I have to give credit where credit is due.”

“Yes, you’re a god among men,” you mumble, rolling your eyes. “I don’t love Jeongguk. Not like that, at least. Do I need to remind you of the whole reason I’m doing this in the first place?”

“Yeah, yeah, the secret girlfriend,” Seokjin says, waving a hand dismissively. “Whatever. You’re spending a lot of time with him, is all I’m saying. The tides may turn in your favor.”

Wow, and you thought you were delusional.

“Fat chance,” you deadpan, polishing off your wine. “Especially if Yoongi is as persistent as he’s making himself out to be.”

“What’s his beef with you, anyway?” Seokjin asks, snorting to himself as he picks up a piece of steak with his chopsticks. Hilarious. “I feel like he’s going a little far for it to just be protectiveness, you know?”

Right. When you’d given Seokjin the rundown via text, you’d left one pretty substantial piece of information out.

“He said, um,” you start, picking at one of your nails nervously—a habit that Hyerin would smack you on the back of the head for, if she were here. “He said that he knows… more than I think.”

Just like that, all of the humor drains from Seokjin’s expression. “Meaning…?”

“I don’t know,” you say, your voice wobbling just a bit. “I don’t know, but if it does mean that… It makes the idea of rolling over and doing what he says pretty enticing, not gonna lie.”

“Fuck that,” Seokjin says firmly, your eyes widening in response. “If he’s the type of guy to use something like that as blackmail, then he’s a piece of shit. I don’t care if he is trying to protect Jeongguk.”

“He can’t know, though,” you groan, fully resting your head on the cool marble of your kitchen countertop now. 

You’ve been wracking your brain for days now, trying to figure out if it’s even possible for Yoongi to know anything. You’re pretty confident the answer is no, but there’s no way to be one-hundred percent sure without confirmation from the man himself. And you’d honestly rather die.

“Nobody knows except the people involved and you. You’re the only one who didn’t sign an NDA, and I’m pretty confident you’ve never met Min Yoongi. Not to mention you just wouldn’t—”

“Share that information? Hell no, I wouldn’t,” Seokjin interrupts, scoffing. “Okay, well… Regardless of whether he knows anything, he honestly just sounds like a dick and I think you should kill him.”

You snort, lifting your eyes to look at him from where your head rests on the counter. “Maybe that can be plan B,” you offer.

“Fine, then what’s the plan A?” Seokjin counters, crossing his arms and raising a conspiratorial eyebrow at you.

Fantastic question, one you’ve been thinking about the answer to since you abruptly left the afterparty that night. It’s not like you can tell Jeongguk what’s going on and risk having to tell him the whole truth. You trust Jeongguk, but…

No, it’s not an option. You don’t want anyone else to know. So, if Yoongi’s going to insist on being a problem for you, you might as well return the favor. It’s only fair.

You grin, lifting your head and leaning closer to Seokjin.

“I’m going to make his life a living hell.”

★ ★ ★

Yoongi hasn’t touched a cigarette since he was twenty one years old.

He picked up the nasty habit at sixteen, when one of his friends doled out African Ice Jacks amongst the group, bragging that his hyung had bought the pack for him. As soon as the lighter was flicked on and the bittersweet taste of bubblegum and tobacco filled Yoongi’s lungs, he was hooked.

It was stupidly easy to get his hands on cigarettes before he was of legal age, even when his friend’s hyung couldn’t supply them for whatever reason. All of the adults around him smoked, including his parents. 

It felt as though cigarettes were an extension of his hand, felt wrong when he didn’t have the option to light one up. During school hours, Yoongi’s fingers would twitch on his desk as he waited for his last class to end.

He was a fucking anxious, wound-up kid. Smoking was the only thing that helped, sometimes. If he had a shit day, at least he could have a cigarette.

When the band got signed, though, things changed. Despite the fact that the majority of the population in Korea smoked, celebrities were vilified for it in the media. For whatever fucking reason. Yoongi didn’t care much what the media had to say about him, but he reasoned that it would be pretty stupid to let his dream die over Ice Jacks. So he quit.

It was hard at first, but it’s been five years now. After so much time, it’s rare that cigarettes even cross his mind, even when others smoke around him.

Sitting across the table from you now, though, Yoongi’s fingers twitch just like they had when he was in grade school staring at a clock.

He and the band started frequenting Yoojung Sikdang long before there was any real hope for fame. It was their chosen spot after every practice. The ajumma who owns it knows their names, remembers their orders by heart. Over the years, the only part of the restaurant that’s changed is their autographed photos on the wall. They’ve celebrated every single milestone here, big or small, just the five of them. Alone.

Wrapping up their first world tour should be no different. It’s their biggest milestone yet, and all Yoongi wanted was to eat ssambap with his best friends. Remind himself that none of the fame matters as long as they still have this.

But here you are. Of course. Encroaching on everything Yoongi’s built, everything he holds dear to his heart.

The only time it’s ever been more than the five of them here was the night they signed their contract, accompanied by two label executives. Even if you’re allegedly riding Jeongguk’s dick, no way are you that fucking important.

Yoongi would laugh if he wasn’t so pissed off. You are such a fucking pest. He just can’t shake you off.

“You don’t like what you ordered?” Jimin asks you, snapping Yoongi out of his thoughts.

Yoongi’s made an effort to keep to himself for the majority of the dinner. No use in ruining everyone else’s night—it’s still a special one, after all. Besides, he’s still trying to be an adult about things. You may have ruined his plan to talk to Jeongguk tonight, but it’s not like he’s going to cause a scene in front of a restaurant full of people—

“Oh, I’m just not very hungry,” you say. Yoongi’s eyes narrow.

All you’ve been doing all night is burrowing into Jeongguk’s side, barely touching your food. Lipgloss still perfectly in place. Normally, Yoongi wouldn’t care—he’s not paying for it. He wastes food on the label’s dime all the time. At Yoojung Sikdang, though?

“Why did you come, then?” 

The words come out of Yoongi’s mouth before he can stop them, sharp and pointed. He’d fully intended to keep his mouth shut, eat his food, and then go home. Maybe buy a pack on the way. But now they’re out there, and Yoongi can’t bring himself to care. Certainly not to feel bad.

For the first time since you’d walked in on Jeongguk’s arm, you make eye contact with him. On purpose this time—challenging. Yoongi’s not a little bitch, so he stares back. 

“Because Jeonggukie invited me,” you say, faux sweetness dripping from your words as you lean your head on Jeongguk’s shoulder. Eyes still fixed on Yoongi. “I figured it would be okay, since you all gave me such a warm welcome last time.”

Yeah. Yoongi’s buying that pack of cigarettes. 

“You’re always welcome to come out with us,” Taehyung coos, like he thinks you’re the cutest thing in the world. Knowing Taehyung, he probably does.

Everyone seems to be in agreement on that front, too, except Yoongi who rolls his eyes as he shoves a ssam into his mouth. Whatever.

“It’s gonna be hell getting you out of here, though,” Namjoon adds from Yoongi’s left. He leans over to glance at the crowd of people peering through the front of the restaurant, cameras at the ready, desperate to get a glimpse of you and Jeongguk. Not that you’re making it particularly hard.

“We’ve never had a crowd like that out there,” Jimin says, in awe. “I’m not surprised, though. Those articles about you two have been getting tons of clicks.”

“Ah,” you say. If Yoongi didn’t know better, he’d think you sound almost sheepish. “That, um. That might be my fault. I told my manager I was coming here. She must’ve tipped someone off.”

Of course.

“Anything for a photo-op, right?” Yoongi sneers, unable to help himself. It’s such an easy shot, after all. You’re being so transparent.

“Hyung,” Taehyung says, eyes wide as if he’s appalled. 

“I’m sorry, Yoongi-ssi,” you say, tilting your head at him. That little flash of a challenge is still in your eyes, and Yoongi doesn’t like it one bit. “Do you have a problem with me being here?”

Yoongi scoffs, sitting up. When he speaks, it’s laced with bitterness. “We just don’t normally come here with guests, that’s all. I guess I didn’t get the memo that that’d suddenly changed.”

“I invited her, hyung,” Jeongguk says. “She’s my girlfriend.” He wraps his arm around you protectively and, fuck, you’re good. You’re so good at making Yoongi look like the asshole.

“I get that, Guk-ah,” Yoongi tries, his voice considerably softer now. “But, come on… Here? And the mob outside, I mean… Do you really think that was just a harmless mistake?”

“What are you implying?” Jeongguk grits out. He’s angry now, that much is clear, and it’s Yoongi’s fault. 

You have him trapped. He’s surrounded by landmines, unable to come up with a single response that could possibly defuse them.

“Come on, guys,” Namjoon says, glancing at Yoongi pointedly. “We’re here to celebrate.”

“If Yoongi-ssi is uncomfortable that I’m here, maybe I should go,” you say, making to get up.

Jeongguk reaches for your arm, stopping you. “No,” he says. “Yoongi-hyung, you can either get over it and stay with us, or you can leave. You’re the only one who doesn’t want her here.”

Un-fucking-believable.

“Are you serious?” Yoongi scoffs, looking around at everyone. Is this really happening to him right now? This is his band!

The table is deadly silent. Everyone refuses to meet Yoongi’s eyes except you and Jeongguk, who raises a challenging eyebrow at him. It’s immediately apparent to Yoongi that he’s not winning this one. That somehow, he’s ruined the night meant to celebrate him and his friends.

Bitterly, Yoongi laughs. “Fine.”

No one protests when he pushes his chair away from the table and stands up, and that stings much more than Yoongi would like to admit.

He catches your eye as he grabs his jacket off the back of his chair, anger flaring at how pleased you look. 

“Have a nice fucking dinner,” Yoongi mutters, before turning on his heel and walking towards the door. Leaving his friends to face a crowd of photographers and fans that you called.

As he walks out into the cold, dodging the phones being shoved in his face, all he can think about is the way Jeongguk had looked at him.

★ ★ ★

You met Jeon Jeongguk a year ago, give or take a few months. You just remember it was cold.

Less than twenty-four hours after a particularly nasty breakup with a guy you didn’t love but liked enough, you were back on the clock. Zipped into something tight and expensive, wearing the best waterproof mascara money could buy.

You hated those events to begin with—the galas, end of year ceremonies for awards you were no longer viable to win. They were torture for you. But the sting of being freshly single only made things worse, so you had decided to make the most of it.

You may not have been able to win a KMA, but you were well within your rights to treat the KMAs themselves like your own personal dating pool. No better way to rid yourself of your ex like getting with someone new, you thought.

Which is where Jeongguk came in, devastatingly hot in his tailored suit. You’d ran into him on your way from the bathroom—much like you had with Yoongi, now that you think about it—and you instantly found yourself wondering what it would be like to kiss a guy with a lip ring. Jeongguk, as it turned out, was very interested in showing you. 

You were both a little drunk, but the attraction was real. Instant. 

One very handsy cab ride later, and you were in his apartment, grinding on his lap as you experienced first-hand just how little of an obstacle a lip ring can be if the man who has it knows what he’s doing.

Things were going so well—Jeongguk’s tongue exploring your mouth as you felt his cock stiffening beneath you. But it all came crashing down as soon as his hand slid under your dress.

The fact of the matter was, you’d just been dumped. Regardless of how strongly you did or didn’t feel about your ex, you’d still been dumped and it still hurt. As soon as Jeongguk really touched you, it became all too apparent that you wouldn’t be able to go through with it. Luckily, at the slightest bit of hesitance from you, Jeongguk’s hand immediately retreated from under your dress. 

He was sweet about it. Really, really sweet. Valiantly ignored his erection and offered to listen instead, which made you laugh. Comforted you even though you hadn’t thought you needed it. Let you sleep in his bed anyway. When you left the next morning, kindly offered to be your friend, because you clearly needed one.

You’ve been friends ever since. 

Not in the same way that Seokjin is your friend, of course. Seokjin is your best friend, has been since you were both kids. But Jeongguk just… He gets the industry, in a way that Seokjin never will.

Which brings you to last month.

Last month, when Jeongguk called you nervously in the middle of his tour schedule. Asked you to be his fake girlfriend in guilty, hushed whispers.

You didn’t need to know why. You were always going to say yes. 

But Jeongguk explained anyway. He explained that he has a girlfriend, a real girlfriend, who isn’t from your world. That he hasn’t been able to see her nearly as much as he’d like to because he’s terrified of the backlash she could receive from being connected to him romantically.

You read between the lines—you have nothing to lose, at this point. There isn’t a day that goes by where someone online doesn’t have something to say about you, reputable or not.

He explained that in order to maintain the lie, no one in the industry could know the truth, not even Jeongguk’s bandmates. According to him, they wouldn’t understand why he felt the need to go to such lengths. You didn’t completely agree then, but having met Yoongi now, you get it.

His girlfriend knows about you, he’d told you. She knows who you are, knows about that night last year, and that she still agreed to let him ask you this. She doesn’t see you as a threat.

It stung, a little. Of course it did. You and Jeongguk may be friends, but you’ve always felt a hint of something else there. Maybe it was the kindness he’d shown you when you met. Maybe it’s just him. But you never said anything, convinced it was one-sided.

Clearly you were right.

Still, you want to do this for him. You care about him, and just because you can’t maintain a stable relationship doesn’t mean Jeongguk doesn’t deserve a chance at one.

You think, if Yoongi knew, he’d feel the same.

★ ★ ★

Five years down the drain, Yoongi thinks. Ashes his cigarette. Oh well.

Honestly, it’s not even really about you, although Yoongi would love to pretend otherwise. If he pins it all on you, it makes his mission to get rid of you all the more noble. The label breathing down his neck. The impending deadline of an album he doesn’t know if he can write. Dongsaengs that don’t know how to stay out of trouble. If it’s all your fault, it can’t be his.

This—the smoking—was bound to happen, with or without you. You just helped the process along.

He’s perched on his windowsill, puffing his way through cigarette number two, when his phone buzzes next to him.

Namjoon doesn’t call him nearly ever. Yoongi has a way that he likes things done, and Namjoon is probably his only friend that actually respects it. Emails for work. In-person or texts for personal shit. Video calls never. Phone calls only if Yoongi needs to hear it now and there’s no other way.

Yoongi picks up.

“Joon-ah?” Cautious. He likes phone calls the least because phone calls mean trouble, like someone is in the hospital. He’s gotten that call before, more than once.

“Hyung,” Namjoon says. “Do you have a minute?”

Namjoon wouldn’t be asking that if someone was in the hospital, so Yoongi allows himself to unclench. Just a little. “Yeah, I have a minute.”

He hears rustling on the line, like Namjoon is fidgeting. But Namjoon is always fidgeting, so that could mean nothing.

“I figured, given the events of tonight, that it would be a good call to warn you ahead of time. I would’ve come by your apartment, but I’ve got meetings all morning tomorrow and it’s late. I didn’t want to wait until next time I see you though, so…” Namjoon starts, trailing off. 

Yoongi works his jaw. “Spit it out, Joon-ah,” he says, because Namjoon is shit at delivering bad news. He’s always beating around the bush, trying to soften the blow. It’s great for the kids, but it makes Yoongi feel like he’s about to have to bury his first-born or some shit. Yoongi likes clear, direct.

Namjoon knows this, so he always gets it right on the second try.

“YN is going to the Jeju house with you guys,” Namjoon says. Clear and direct, but the absolute last thing Yoongi wants to hear right now. 

“You’re fucking with me.”

“I’m not.”

“She has literally no fucking reason to be there, Joon-ah,” Yoongi grits out. The cigarette secured between his index and middle knuckles has burned down to nothing, singes his fingers. He hisses and flicks it out the window. “Is she going to help us write an album? Is that it?”

“Hyung—“

“No, she isn’t. She’s going to distract my lead singer the whole time and make the whole point of the trip fucking impossible,” he interrupts, because once he gets started he can’t stop. “Who signed off on this? Doesn’t she have a job? Isn’t there a goddamn camera that needs to be smoldered at?”

“Yoongi-hyung,” Namjoon says. He’s using his manager voice, and Yoongi shuts up instantly. 

Namjoon uses this voice on the kids all the time. Realistically, it’s not a big deal. It’s his job. But he’s never had to use it on Yoongi before.

He deserves it, though. Yoongi knows that. He knows that he’s been insufferable ever since you showed up, and he doesn’t like it either. He’d wanted to talk to Jeongguk, to have a heart-to-heart with him about it, but that’s proven impossible given that you’re always around. And Namjoon is their voice of reason.

Yoongi tries again.

“I don’t like her,” he explains, keeping his voice level. “I don’t think she has Jeongguk’s best interests at heart. I’m just trying to look out for him.”

The line stays quiet for a long moment, like Namjoon is taking special care in choosing his next words. It would make Yoongi nervous, but that’s just what Namjoon does.

“Hyung, you need to leave it alone,” he finally says.

What the fuck.

Yoongi could have foreseen plenty of responses from Namjoon. He’s been on the receiving end of Namjoon’s sage advice more than he’s proud of. Yoongi worries a lot, and Namjoon is particularly good at quieting those worries, particularly when they pertain to the kids. And they usually do. But he sure as shit wasn’t expecting to be blown off like that.

“Joon-ah, Jeongguk is gonna—“

“Jeongguk is a grown man. He’s fully entitled to make his own decisions, and you need to respect that if you don’t want to lose him.”

Lose him? Is Yoongi going insane? Is he fucking missing some integral piece of this puzzle that everyone else seems to have?

The notion of losing Jeongguk is completely absurd. How could he lose Jeongguk over something like this? Jeongguk, the college freshman with the huge eyes who followed Yoongi around like a puppy. Jeongguk who sang so softly when Yoongi asked, who beamed with pride when Yoongi told him he had something special. Jeongguk who dropped out alongside Yoongi, took a risk because he trusted his hyung to take care of him.

It was Yoongi and Jeongguk before it was anyone else, and Yoongi has never let Jeongguk down once, won’t allow himself to. This is the thing that’s going to change that? 

“What are you even talking about?”

“Just… leave this one alone, Yoongi,” Namjoon sighs. “She’s coming whether you like it or not, and you need to at least pretend to play nice.”

Yoongi doesn’t appreciate being treated like a child who’s the cause of his parent’s headache, not by Kim Namjoon. The label dickheads are one thing, but the one person Yoongi has entrusted with everything for the past five years? Before that, even? Fuck that. Namjoon doesn’t talk to him this way, and that’s not about to change because of you.

“Namjoon-ah, if you’re going to blow me off, at least put my cock in your mouth and do it right,” Yoongi spits, hanging up before he can think better of his words.

Fuck.

Yoongi hasn’t bitten Namjoon’s head off like that in a long time. It doesn’t feel good to be back in old patterns like this. Yoongi knows why he doesn’t trust you, but he doesn’t know what it is about you that makes it so—urgent. Like he’s a wild animal primed to bite. To hurt. Yoongi isn’t that guy. 

If what Namjoon said is true, if Jeongguk really is at risk of slipping through Yoongi’s fingers, he has to get his fucking act together. He has to try harder to handle this like an adult.

So, you’re coming to Jeju. Fine. Yoongi can be civil.

Even if the only way for him to be civil is not to speak to you at all.

✧ shoot me a reply or an ask if you enjoyed this chapter! feedback is always appreciated <3 join my taglist if you want to be tagged in future fics!

✧ TAGLIST:

@jajabro @pitchblack0309 @sugar-snap @ot72025 @ktownshizzle

@futuristicenemychaos @tea4sykes @sugainmybowl @namjoonsbuspass @wobblewobble822

@kkaetnipjeon @ohnothisnameisalreadytaken @this-most-assuredly-counts @sugafun @binniesbabe

@1800lxcifrrr @whoa-jo @amarawayne @kimsaerom @bangtangsworld @angellekookie

@jalexad @tarahardcore @valhallawhispers @chimmisbae @notsevenwithyou

@jimingirl95 @jadestonedaeho7

PREVIOUS CHAPTER ✧ MASTERLIST ✧ NEXT CHAPTER

[virovac]

‼️Save Hilda's Pregnancy‼️

Please read our story carefully and imagine the situation we are living in. 400 days of war and genocide. 😥

VETTED HERE (6)

There is nothing in the markets, and if anything is found, it is extremely expensive. 😭

The weather is very cold, and the leaky tents are worn out from the summer heat. 🔥

Snakes 🐍🐍 attack us in the camp 😥🥺.

The insects 🦟🪳🪲🐜 are biting our children, causing their bodies to swell😭🥺.

We want to reach our goal we are still in the beginning 🙏🙏

The children cry from the intense cold and the darkness of the night 💥.

There is no electricity, the water is contaminated, no education, no healthcare, and no medicine. 😓

Pregnancy has exhausted me, and I wonder how my child will survive in these conditions if they arrive. There are not even vaccinations or clothes for children. 😥

Some of my relatives are covering their children with pieces of plastic to protect them from the cold due to the lack of any income sources. 😰

In addition, the sounds of bombing, gunfire, and drones mimic the sounds of wild animals and screaming to frighten people in their sleep. We don't know how long this suffering will last or if we will truly be able to endure it. 😔 🇵🇸🍉🇵🇸🍉

We want to reach our goal, we're still in the beginning 🙏🙏

Plz visit the pinned post on my page to donate or reblog ♻️

VETTED HERE (6)

✅bilal-salah0

✅khanger

✅ana-bananya

✅dlxxv-vetted-donations

✅a-shade-of-blue

[ausradfem]

Hot take but I wish there was a bit more discourse on here about the complex feelings one has intersecting their radical feminism with their attraction/subsequent interest in dating men. I think there's a lot of radfems on here who live lives that are completely absent of having to interact with men and be around men (and some who just don't seem to go outside much at all, lol) who will point the hard finger at anyone who dares to talk about their nigel, and claim that separatism is the ONLY way forward. Time and time again, we know this isn't true. I fully support movements like 4b! I think its valuable and imperative that women decenter men, have their own spaces, put women first, etc.

But we also ~live in a society~ and complete separatism is not only incredibly unrealistic to strive for, but it relies so heavily on moral purantism that many just find off putting as its unobtainable for them. What moral puranitsm doesn't factor in is that people fall in love! We have feelings! We're human! And if you're OSA that means you have the possibility of finding you feel a way about a man that's out of your control.

As someone pointed out in the comments, several radical feminists that we often all quote on here had husbands, boyfriends, life partners that were men. Were those men magically better than men non-feminists date? Probably not. They might possess a certain level of respect for women that a lot of men don't, because (let's be real) most men will simply not put up with a woman who has, and practices, radical feminist beliefs. I also believe there's a lot of young women on here who don't exactly practice what they preach, and on one hand may espouse many radical feminist views while never calling out their boyfriend when he uses slurs or says things that are misogynistic. But this isn't every radfem, and it's silly to lump every radfem on here into that category.

Maybe I should be more open about my OSA, and give some more nuanced views on it (especially as I come from a background of DV), but thats for another post in the near future.

Long story short I think we gotta be a bit more..... complex? When talking about radfems who continue to date and love men. It's a much more weighty, multi-facted topic than things like beauty standards, which were created as a direct tool of oppression, and serve no value to women's lives. Males often don't, but you'd be insane to say that no women get enjoyment and fulfilment out of loving men. Lastly, I think opening up discourse about staying strong in your radical feminism encourages standards!! I know I started putting up with a lot less crap from men the more I read into radical feminism. Simply saying "don't date men" doesn't teach other women how to appropriately navigate:

- standing up for one's self in a relationship

- accurately communicating your needs, and to hold men accountable when they aren't men

- being selective with who you date, what to look for and avoid

- how to recognise signs of abuse

- how to garner healthy sexuality and pleasure for yourself

- how to centre your pleasure and fulfilment sexually, emotionally and mentally.

I could go on, but it's late here and I think I've articulated my point alright enough (:

i’ve noticed that radfems with boyfriends have this unspoken belief that they just know how to pick men and therefore they feel better than women who end up with shitty men or that they could never be a woman on the news that just got murdered by her boyfriend/husband… girl just because you haven’t caught ur man watching porn doesn’t mean he’s a good guy. It’s another level of pathetic to be in a space where the actions of men and how they treat women is a very popular topic and then believe ur man is somehow different because you don’t want to be alone……i’m so sorry to the separatists that sit and watch this shit….

[l-in-the-light]

About Trafalgar Law and his vitiligo

Feel free to ignore this post if you so wish, but I chose to speak up on this matter. I have seen so many fanarts that portray Law with his white skin patches, often looking like a dalmatian and it bothers me. Are you all aware that animal-like patterns for vitiligo are considered insulting? And you all might look at me weirdly now and ask "how can something so cute/wholesome/unique possibly be bothersome to anyone?!" Read further on your own risk, slight tmi.

Law's disease is of course fictional. Visually it looks the closest to vitiligo, but it has a lot in common with autoimmune skin diseases as well. I happen to know how it's like to live with a skin disease. Meds for my condition aren't really for curing anything, they just make the symptoms dimnish, but in return they leave white patches on my skin that are resistant to tanning for a long while (also those meds are very dangerous for your kidneys apparently if used too often, as a side note). Why would anyone use them? Well, because it's a hereditary skin condition: it never goes away and there's no way to cure it, those meds are literally the only thing that does anything. I just get lucky whenever symptoms aren't visible for some time until they inevitably come back anyway. And believe me, this isn't "wholesome", "cute" or "unique" to have discolored skin patches. You all probably have no idea (why would you have anyway, it's natural that you don't) how it's like in summer, when you go on a bus or tram, you wear a t-shirt because it's freaking hot and you can't hide under the clothes or you risk melting or fainting. And people see your discolored skin or red patches on your skin. You know how they react? They stare at your hands/arms and then they move away. That's the default reaction whenever your skin looks unusual. People would rather move away, just in case it's something contagious. They will also stare, a lot, and you can feel it's judgemental, even though my condition is in no way my own fault (or anyone else's who also has it), thank you very much.

That being said, I doubt Law would be happy parading openly with white patches visible on his skin. Most people wouldn't realize that's it's just a leftover from his old, cured disease. They would simply assume what people always assume: that it's something contagious. Evidence below, if you need it:

And Law's reaction to their reaction:

He doesn't look very happy, of course.

People would isolate him, avoid him and *stare* disrespectfully at him like he's a weird specimen, at best. Law would quickly learn to hide it under his clothes, long sleeves, long pants, gloves etc. No one truly wants to attract negative attention like this, especially not someone who already went through a lot of traumatic experiences, like Law. And sure, as a child he didn't really hide it:

But take into account those are the clothes he was wearing ever since Flevance happened. He didn't have any other clothes. As soon as he's accepted as part of Doflamingo's family he starts to wear different ones, and he covers up the spots on his arms by wearing long sleeves:

And oh boy, I can totally relate to that.

Sure, in ideal world, no one would assume Law has a disease just because his skin is discolored. But we're not living in ideal world. Some people, just like me, have hereditary skin conditions and feel bothered by fanarts that exoticize skin disease or skin disorder. Yeah sure, why does it matter, Law is a fictional character with fictional disease, right? But vitiligo is very similar to this and is a real condition which is part of life of real people. Those aren't freckles that are just cute and make you look unique (and some people might have freckles and still hate the extra attention drawn towards it, and it's valid if they feel like that!).

Just wanted to get that off my chest. I don't need sympathy for my disease, this is not why I wrote this post. I just wish people would realize that by drawing a vitiligo Law they're toying with a lot of emotional baggage there, please treat it respectfully. Maybe one day the world will be wholesome enough to think of it as normal (normal, not fetishized, ugly, contagious or exotic!), but I assure you it still doesn't. If you think it's just a "me" thing, check out this blog: https://www.tumblr.com/vitiligo-is-not-a-trend/765530242896003072 and many other posts of theirs. Not everyone with skin conditions might react the same way, but keep in mind people with actual vitiligo and skin diseases can and often will be really sensitive about it, and for a good reason.

Yes, that being said I also think it's wholesome if Luffy accepts vitiligo spots on Law easily like it's not a big deal, especially in comparison to the rest of the world which would fear him instead. It's definitely something Luffy would do. But that's completely different from fetishizing it. Please, you're stepping on a thin line here, tumblr.

[showsandstuff]

WHAT'S UP!

Welcome to my post where I praise the fanon original league version of Jayvik!!!

I'm gonna be real, I will miss the Og machine herald Viktor. I never played league, and I'm not going to, but before season 2 came out I read his lore and he's actually a pretty fun character.

Then after season two act 1 came out, I dove into the world of fanfiction cause I started shipping Jayvik and found kind a few fics about the league of legend versions of the characters. And here is what I will say.

If we go with fanon alone, I actually prefer the league versions.

League Viktor and League Jayce are actual enemies for most of the time. They used to be colleagues, then Viktor was getting into brainwashing whilst Jayce was a dick and got him kicked out of the academy. He also didn't speak up when some other scientist took credit of Viktors invention. Oh and there were misunderstandings about some crystal...

Long story short, they don't like each other. But in the fics they often times either clear the misunderstandings and make up or yearn for each other whilst on opposite sites. Or they fight each other which leads to make out sessions because why not.

The characters are also generally more fun to read about.

Jayce is a huge dick, that is literally his most defining personality trade. He is a cocky bastard and people like him until they get to know him because he's just such an asshole.

And Viktor is just... Really fucking silly. He wants to get rid of his emotions and says that he already did get rid off them, but then Jayce pisses him off and you can tell no way?? Where did you get rid off your emotions? You've been whining non stop. There's also still love, kindness and empathy within Viktor, but he somehow convinces himself that he is emotionless. It gets especially good when that's played for comedy, which it oftentimes is!

Also, the nicknames! They still call each other Jayce and Viktor but Viktor also calls Jayce "Defender" short for "Defender of tomorrow" which is jayces title, and Jayce calls him either V or Machine Herald, depending on the mood.

Arcane season 2 was too rushed and packed with so many seperate story lines that we didn't have enough time for the characters. We needed at least one more season.

But the fanon for the league version, as someone who never played it, gives me this huge time frame of them being enemies but they used to be colleagues or friends (or more than friends depending on the writer), and then a huge time frame of them being enemies.

Og machine herald League Viktor though??? PEAK, WHAT A FUNNY CRINGEFAIL LOSER!

Now more to Arcane...

I think as much as I love Jayvik there, it's all just too sad, especially if you don't necessarily want to read act 1 fanfictions or AUs.

Also Viktor is super hard to characterize because his personally changes with almost every act. That's why I don't buy it when people complain about the way he is characterized because Ik all yall want is sassy S1 Act 1 Viktor, but I prefer the less confident and workaholic Act 2 Viktor. We are not the same.

The Fanon of League is just, somehow, more consistent in a way, because it has existed just much longer and people probably get inspired by the same shippers for how to write their dynamic.

Arcane fics though depend on how the individual interprets the characters, and with characters whose arcs were rushed sm it's just impossible.

So Og machine herald Viktor, you will be missed. I hope people don't stop writing for them and drawing fanart!!

[20001541]

Hey bestie. What do you think All For One wears to bed? Does he never sleep and just wear his classic suits? I could see him having a Quirk that allows him to not require sleep, since he’s so busy trying to further his advancement in his goals, so he can’t afford to waste time. (Lmfao does he only have one outfit or does he have multiple of the same?) To me, he doesn’t seem like the type to wear pajamas. I feel like if he did sleep in a bed, maybe he’d just wear underwear or something. Idk about naked— but you never know. 😏 also, do you think he wears cologne? And if so, what scents do you think he likes? I think since he didn’t have much during his childhood, that he likes to spoil himself with all kinds of nice, expensive things and also take care of himself and hygiene. Then again, I could also see him not finding worth in anything he deems “frivolous” that doesn’t advance his goals, so maybe he just takes care of basic needs. But I’d love to read your opinion!

Btw thanks for doing God’s work and giving us AFO content and headcanons. You’re a legend.

Hey! 👋😊

I think he would have to sleep at some point because all quirks have their limits, but he avoids sleeping as long as possible using quirks to keep him awake. Once he reaches the point where his body can't take it anymore, he will try and get some rest. Not a lot, about 5 hours at max, but he still gets some rest at times. How else would he have found out that when he sleeps, he sees the vestiges of the peoples whose quirks he stole?

I actually do think he sleeps naked haha. He doesn't like the way clothes feels when he's trying to sleep and I think a part of him is more comfortable being nude than having clothes on in general. I did read a fic where potato AFO slept in some black satin pajamas and I kind of liked that too because it's a cute image.

Yes, I do think he wears cologne! I asked @kstbj for help on what scent in particular and we agreed that he would prefer woody scents, mineral scents also something that's like smoky and earthy and salty something like this .

I think he prefers opulent things and enjoys extravagance and all the luxury his money can afford. I can see why some people do have the hc he doesn't actually care for luxury items considering how he grew up on the streets and hc that he prefers the feral life. But idk he seems to have a taste for expensive things to me considering we see him living here in 408

Inside looks fancy too

Plus his suits don't scream cheap. So for me I feel he loves spending money on expensive things as it makes him feel good and catches other people's eye. People respect him more too and he likes how it's proof of how successful he's become as a result of his hard work.

Thank you for the wonderful compliment :D The series may be over but it still brings joy to my heart to be making these posts so it's nice to know they're appreciated

[lemotmo]

Sometimes I can't believe they're real

Q. I don't understand how Oliver can say Buck's bisexuality isn't tied to Tommy. He didn't know he was bisexual before Tommy. There was zero need for Oliver to say his bisexuality isn't tied to Eddie because Eddie has nothing to do with Buck's bisexuality but Tommy literally gave Buck his realization. His bisexuality is absolutely tied to Tommy.

A. So we are rapidly approaching the final ask I will answer on the subject of Tommy or Lou because they are no longer a part of the show. Tommy may be mentioned from time to time from a narrative perspective, though I personally believe it might be one more time at best, but Lou is long gone, thank god, so continuing to talk about either one of them is unnecessary. But I am going to respond to this because this level of absurdity is mind boggling. Your sexuality isn't tied to a specific person or relationship. A person's sexuality belongs to that person and only that person. Buck was bisexual before he realized he was bisexual. Buck is still bisexual even though his relationship with Tommy is over. If the fling he is going to have in 8b, and stop trying to talk yourselves into believing it will be some other kind of vice it won't be, he will have a fling (although hopefully it will be with the person who ends up abducting him), is with a woman he will still be bisexual. He will be bisexual when he's with Eddie. He will always be bisexual. Tommy gave him his first bisexual experience, but that doesn't entitle Tommy to Buck's bisexuality. Abby gave him his first adult relationship and Tommy gave him his first bisexual relationship. Both of those people will always be significant for Buck because of those two things, but neither one of them is owed any kind of ownership over Buck or his identity in any way. They were his firsts. That's the only title either one of them will ever have. Buck was a bisexual man before, during, and after both relationships. Buck not being aware of his bisexuality prior to Tommy doesn't mean it didn't exist before him. And it certainly still exists after him. So Oliver was correct in making sure people understood that no matter who Buck ends up with in his life he will always be a bisexual man. The fact that you don't seem to understand how this works is why Oliver needed to say what he did. You're part of the group of people he was talking too, anon. Hope this helps.

Thank you Nonny!

Yep, yep and yep! I overall agree with Ali.

The only thing I don't fully agree with is that Buck will have another fling in the beginning of 8b. To be honest? Personally, I don't think he will and that he'll try to distract himself with something else. This isn't me trying to fool myself by the way. 😋

Tim did talk about Buck getting into 'something', not 'someone'. Yes, I am aware that Tim is a lying liar that lies, so I could be wrong. 😂 But I have a hunch that they won't take the same old tired path for Buck this time and instead they'll have him involved in something unexpected. What? I haven't the faintest idea. 🤷‍♀️

We'll just have to wait and see.

IMPORTANT! Please don't repost this ask and/or a link that leads straight to my Tumblr account on Twitter or any other social media. Thank you!

Heads up! For anyone who is giving me the shifty eyes for reposting Ali's updates instead of reblogging. Read this.

Remember, no hate in comments, reblogs or inboxes. Let's keep it civil and respectful. Thank you.

If you are interested in more of Ali’s posts, you can find all of her posts so far under the tag: anonymous blog I love.

[aithusarosekiller]

I saw your Jegulus post about them not being the typical teenage romance and can I just give you a double high five in agreement! I then HAD to find one of many moments I've written for them which exemplify this and share it with you. And this one is the one I settled on. Remus' POV, year five for the Marauders, year four for Regulus. Context is, this is the first time Remus has spent time with James and Regulus together after discovering their secret relationship. It's James' birthday and Lily wants James occupied all day so she can prep for his party. Lily also knows about James and Regulus BTW, makes contextual sense in the story (Sirius does not know, doesn't apply to this scene though).

Hope you enjoy. :)

>>><<<

There were people who loved each other, like Remus loved Sirius. He would have handed Sirius his body, heart, and soul. He loved him with every ounce of his being. And yet… There were people who loved each other, and then there was James and Regulus.

Remus could think of no other way to describe it. They weren’t two hearts beating for each other. They were the void between heartbeats. They occupied the infinitesimal moment as an inhale became an exhale. They were two people, who shared a single soul. And being around them was both intoxicating and strange. Remus felt like if he breathed too hard in their direction he’d mess with their air, which was exactly perfect between them as their breaths mingled. For surely two people so melded would only breathe the air of the other. And then they would poke fun at each other and their aura would brighten, literally bringing each into sharper visual focus, before it blurred again as they melted back into each other. 

They didn’t even have to be touching (though they nearly always were) for this phenomenon to take place. And for half the day Remus thought he was merely groggy from the Pamoja wielding. He thought his brain was sending him confused signals as he watched James and Regulus be James and Regulus. 

But a massive lunch, plenty of teenage goofing off, and exploring the surrounding forest left him with a very clear mind and the same mental signals. At which point Remus decided James and Regulus were an exhibition in their own category of relationship, absolutely unique to them. Love was not the word he would use to describe them. It was so much more. They filled the spaces no one else even noticed. And it merged their existence into a single organism. 

It was fucking intense. 

After they parted ways, as James and Remus continued up to the castle together, Remus said tentatively, “hey, so is it always like that?”

“What do you mean?” asked James absently. 

“Er, do you really not know.”

James glanced over at him. “It’s always like that, yeah.”

“Bloody hell.” Remus couldn’t get a good read on James’ face for they were walking side by side, but he thought James might be smiling. “I knew he had to be something special and way more substantial than he looks to withstand your affection, but Godric James. I don’t even know what to call that. I’m not sure it’s physically sustainable.”

“He’s my star.”

“Mate, he’s your fucking universe.”

James playfully threw out an elbow and definitely didn’t look at Remus. 

“What can I say, we are infinite. Don’t look so scandalized, you and Sirius aren’t so different.”

“No, we are very different. We exist in the physical world James. You two are already way out there in your own orbit.”

“See why I can’t lose him.”

They took several paces before Remus spoke.

“James, I’m scared for you. That kind of connection has to be dangerous.”

“Want to stop and have a smoke?”

“Took the words right out of my mouth mate.”

<3

JUST REMEMBERED I HAD THIS IN MY INBOX FOR AGES I AM SO SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG TO RESPOND TO THIS

But honestly it's one of my favourite things about them, the poetic quality makes it feel like they're finding each other again just when they need it at the same time as we're finding them when WE need it, you know?

That's so real though, the idea of the two of them being able to almost spiritually feed off of each other's presence is so true. Like existence is centred around them for a moment. They take over everything.

And it's probably bad in the long run but it's so beautiful that the pain is okay. Because without all of the painful bits, were the good parts really all that valuable?

Also I love your style, it feels real and almost factual if that makes sense? Even when you're describing metaphysical aspects the certainty gives a strong feeling of truth and rationality. I like it.

[eicee]

Will forever be grateful for this post and your writings crab! I usually read this every know and then! Really recommend and read crabdrables blog!! Sorry for the VERY late thoughts but taking L's left and right irl lol Onto some of my personal thoughts:

Relating very much with reader's unending cycle of self-doubt and hatred that may stem from themselves and from family too.

Ain't exactly an academic achiever expect when college but please for the love of find time in social life to or you'll kind of end up with reader here. Asian things lol.

Speaking of Asian things, reader's parents love language here is more on actions and less on verbal. This alright but kinda toxic when its something one thing only. Reader craves to of validation through words too. What's one action can be interpreted as another; example

Academic validation you'll find in majority of families unfortunately something reader thought that they should do for majority of their life but their is life outside school too.

Pleasing for other people is what person's identity will get themselves killed literally and metaphorically, it shows that reader is drained from what all happened in their life.

Reader really giving it all, as they think it would be make it or break it on the military.

Sad with reader that even if they joined the 141, their feelings of doubt and emptiness is still their and not easily those feeling be swayed easily.

Reader be yearning and wanting to be part of the 141 fam yet really made them out of place at the task force at first.

Calling "kid" by the 141 pulled me some of my heart strings, reader for sure was touched by their endearment thought they are still processing what the 141 say.

Reader's mind and thoughts be really damaged, so deep in their mind that they forgot the positive interactions with the 141.

Not the reader overhearing the string of Gaz' words and reader walking away not hearing the whole convo. Gaz seeing through reader and worried mother hen.

Ghost be the terrifying lt yet softie understanding big bro here.

Soap the ever social butterfly yet respecting social boundaries for reader.

Dad!Price ain't giving up reader that early. Yearning for someone like Price wanting to understand and talk to like reader here.

Reader may not feel that they have place in 141 but they already are, they are just in denial and still on process.

Reader be shocked that Price finds them.

Price be observant due to years being in the military.

“Something on your mind?” Price asks that lead to conversation his understanding that led to Reader's opening up even when they cried earlier.

Price be knight in shining armor and Papa bear that is ready to defend anyone and especially 141 and that includes the reader. "Violence and timing." as Price known quote.

Reader be awkward on calling Price's first name and sharing what on their mind is.

Price despite reader's doubts on their place on 141 still reassures and knows that reader is in the right place. That not anyone could replace reader as they already carve into 141's hearts.

Price giving reader more credit as he sees that reader worked their ass off hard and well.

Not the joked that turned to not joked with hugging and effing Reader still protecting their parents and Price horrified with the silence and revelation.

Captain with his words about obligation and not love for sure hit Reader's head like a truck.

Price really giving the words that Reader crave and wanted to hear for their whole life, did gave them hope and made them less empty.

Papa John Price gave hug that Reader may not realized that they need it.

Reader felt seen and appreciated for who they are. Reader be stuck and with their found family as long as they can (forever).

Hiii Crab so happy to see you write outside of our rants/idea chats and my fellow delulu cod enjoyer! Would love to request Platonic!141 + Reader (sorry if this is long and somewhat confusing lol). You can do headcanons, drabble or whatever you comfy for. An idea that popped in my head kinda semi personal: Civ or 141! Reader though has parents and family is the reader is quite something else. Reader despite having somewhat normal upbringing still feel empty; they shouldn't be feeling this numb and empty deep inside of them. The reader craves the love that they give but couldn't or lack of receiving it back, though they don’t expect it or selfishly want it. Just someone who understands them even in their deepest darkest secret or flaw then boom cue the task force 141 unexpected yet welcoming to their life and maybe the one that the Reader can lean and let them be vulnerable on (finally).  

Take your time on doing this Looking for to your other writing genuinely -Cee, your fellow Soap delulu

GN!Reader & 141 (Mostly Price)

Warnings: Slight angst Ships: None. A/N: This absolutely ran away from me and I do not at all regret it, hope you enjoy, Cee!!! Words: 3549

Almost your entire life had been a cycle of self doubt that also started to churn and twist into self-hatred. You blamed yourself for the feelings. Afterall, you had a relatively normal upbringing. Two parents who were both present in your life, both of whom worked so that you all had food on the table and a roof over your head. A luxury that very few had.

The least you could do for them is follow the path that they wanted to put you on, no matter how much you didn’t want to do it. Because you loved them. 

So you excelled in your education, studying hard to try and impress your parents– to make them love you just as much as you loved them for everything that they did for you for your entire life. They wanted you to do all three sciences despite the additional workload it would add to your already stretched thin time? Then you would do them, take any extra classes after school in order to keep up with the work and not lag behind any of your peers. 

There was no such thing as a social life, either, not when you had homework and projects due. Friends were few and far between. Generally, most people left when they realised how hyper focused you were on your grades instead of social interaction. 

Did a classmate get a higher grade than you on a test? Well obviously you didn’t study hard enough, you just needed to dedicate more time to school even though school was all you had.

Did you get the highest marks in the class? Good, that was what was expected of you. Why didn’t you get full marks? You were better than that. You would do better because you loved your family. They showed it in their own way, of course, by encouraging you to study harder and get better grades. That was their love language, and yours was doing as they asked without a second thought. Because, at the end of the day, you were lucky to have an upbringing like you had. You would ignore the hollow void clawing at your chest because you had no right to feel that way– not when you had a roof over your head and parents that loved you(?).

It was when you came top of the class with full marks in a recent test, you came home with a beaming smile on your face and proudly showed the test to your parents. They took the papers from your hands, flipping through your work with critical eyes, before handing the papers back to you. 

‘Well done, we’re so proud of you.’ That was all you wanted them to say to you. That was all you needed to hear. To know that they loved you. 

‘Your penmanship is terrible.’ Was what you got instead. When you tried to point at the big 100% in green pen, you were waved away. ‘How are you expected to get a job when you write like a child? I’m surprised the teacher could even read your answers’. 

After several years of balancing a work and educational life and paving a way for a line of work that you didn’t want for parents you should have been grateful to have, you decided that enough was enough. 

No matter how hard you worked, no matter how high your marks were, they would never be proud of you. They would never return the love that you had for them until you nearly killed yourself trying. 

Spending your entire childhood, teenagehood and all of your current adulthood trying to please your parents predictably would damage one’s psyche. You had no friends, family who had never been devoted to you as you were to them, and high grades serving as the foundations to a prison-like future.

You dropped out of University. The only option forward that you saw was joining the army in the vain hope that the empty feeling inside of you would dissipate when you actually did something that you believed was more worthwhile than any University course. 

So you threw yourself into the military, working harder than all of the other recruits and training at every chance you could.

Your skills and determination became widely recognised amongst your peers. It took several years, but you eventually caught the eye of none other than Captain John Price. 

Impressed by your willpower that not many soldiers possessed, he offered you a place on the 141. 

Naturally, you agreed. You believed that being part of such a well renowned and respected team would finally beat back the lingering self doubt and emptiness that had curled itself around your heart.

It didn’t. If anything, it made it worse.

You were invited to join the 141, sure, but they had already established their own relationships between each other, had already bonded into a close knit group, and you were simply an outsider. Yes, you had been hand picked by Price himself, but that didn’t mean you were part of the team. They had their own inside jokes that they told to one another, leaving you feeling left out on most days.

And you felt… lacking around them. Ghost was stronger, Gaz was faster, Soap was smarter (he was a demolitions expert for crying out loud!), and Price was almost all of those rolled into one. They all complimented each other as a team. Meanwhile you felt like a spare tyre, a master of nothing and barely a jack of any trade. 

Despite how you felt about it all, they all called you ‘kid’. Regardless of age gaps between yourself and the rest of them, the nickname stuck mostly because you were the newbie. It came as a surprise that it wasn’t spat with vitriol as your peers before had, but it was in fact said with… an affection you couldn’t quite place.

You couldn’t ignore the hole in your chest that had been chipped at over the years, forming a gaping maw that no reassurances could really mend. 

Doubt lingered in the back of your mind, chipping away at your sanity as you prepared for the worst. How long would it take before they realised you weren’t good enough? 

You were so deep in your doubts that you didn’t realise that you had been distancing yourself even more than before until you overheard a conversation in Price’s office a few months down the line.

“-- they don’t belong on the team.” Gaz said as you passed Price’s office and your heart dropped. It was only the tailend of what he had been saying but you had gotten the gist. You wanted to stay, to listen to the conversation more and listen to what your team had to say about you, but you didn’t. What you were going to hear were likely things you had already told yourself right from the start. You keep walking on, ignoring the sting of tears burning in the corners of your eyes. The blood rushing in your ears prevented you from heating the rest of the conversation. 

“-- not only are they acting like they don’t belong on the team, but they’re acting like they’re not good enough.” Gaz continued, sighing in frustration.

“Maybe they need more time.” Ghost rumbled in reply, “Let them come out of their shell a little bit. Best not rush these things.” He was talking from experience, after all.

“Aye… maybe I can invite them out for drinks or sommat? I wouldn’t want them getting transferred before we got to know them a little more.” Soap had been the one that had tried the hardest to get close to you but had also tried to give you space so as to not suffocate you with his personality. 

“They won’t be getting transferred.” Price said with conviction, tapping his desk, “I chose them to be part of this team and this is where they’re going to stay. Let me have a word with them first.”

“Aye, sir.”

— — — — — —

You found yourself in the smoker’s shelter outside the main building. It was late enough that most of the soldiers had gone to bed or off to do their own things elsewhere so you doubted that you would be bothered for a little while. Just enough time for you to get your thoughts together. Your tears had dried in your eyes a few minutes ago, making them sting in the cold air. You didn’t need to look in your reflection to know that you probably looked like a wreck– entirely unbecoming of a soldier of your apparent status. 

You didn’t want to get transferred. Despite your distance with the 141, you didn’t hate them. Far from, actually, you held a great deal of respect for each and every one of them. It was just that you felt like you didn’t have your place amongst them. Not good enough to be associated with them. 

“Bit late to be out here in the cold, chuck.” A voice startled you out of your thoughts– one that you would recognise anywhere from the low rasp of a smoker's lungs. 

“Captain.” You croaked, wincing at the patheticness in your voice. There was a scuff of boots as Price came closer, leaning into your line of vision with a furrowed brow which only furrowed more as he took in your dishevelled appearance.

“Something on your mind?” He asked kindly, perching on the arm of the bench to give you some personal space. He left his question open, allowing you any chance to steer the conversation how you wanted to. There was no judgement for catching you at your lowest, no disgust at your red rimmed eyes— just polite understanding and a non verbal offer of pleasant company. 

“Why did you pick me, Captain?”

The question made him tilt his head, a frown beginning to tug on his features. You were worried you had insulted him.

“What brought this on, huh? Someone say something to you? Need me to have a word with them?” He straightened his back, scowling. Whilst you felt like you didn’t have a place in the 141, you could never deny the shield of protectiveness that Price held over his team. You remember in the back of your mind the day that some General who thought he was hot shit had the audacity to undermine Soap as nothing more than a ‘yappy dog’ when offered the Scot’s demolitions expertise. Price had appeared almost out of thin air and almost ripped the General a new one and things would have escalated into a fist fight had Laswell not intervened. It wasn’t as though Price didn’t think his own soldiers were capable of defending themselves, but he couldn’t care less about punishments aimed his own way over that of his Sergeants and Lieutenant. It was just a surprise that the protective streak extended over you, too, despite your distance to your teammates.

“I’ll sound stupid.” You mumbled, looking down at the ground as if expecting him to chastise you like a child. He didn’t.

“I’ve had my fair share of stupid over the years. Try me.”

“... and ungrateful.”

“I once had a guy punch me in the face two seconds after I took a bullet that would have killed him.” Price countered with a cut off chuckle once he remembered what was probably a mission long finished and cleared his throat. “C’mon, tell Captain what’s on your mind.”

And he sounded so sincere when he said it. Sounded like he genuinely wanted to hear what was going on in your head– that he was willing to waste what was already his important and limited time on someone like you. 

“Sir—”

“John.” Price corrected gently, crows feet more noticeable at the corners of his eyes scrunched up when he smiled, “We’re off duty, you don’t need to be so formal.”

“... John.” You echoed, finding that you really didn’t like saying that. It felt like calling your teacher by their first name in primary school or a classmate’s parent other than their last name. 

“Now, c’mon, tell me what’s on your mind. Might not be a therapist, but I’m better than bottling it up.” You wondered in the back of your mind how often Price did this. Sat with his soldiers and talked with them, offered them a listening ear to hear their vents and fears. You couldn’t help but feel honoured to be one of the few he willingly offered said time to. Your silence stretched on as you thought of the words to say, how to phrase what you wanted to say without sounding unappreciative of the opportunity that Price had offered you when he requested you join his team. 

“I don’t feel like I belong here.” You blurted once the silence had stretched on for long enough to border on uncomfortable. John’s face fell and you quickly realised how bad that sounded and rushed to correct yourself.

“No, no, wait, let me explain–” the Captain closed his mouth to allow you to continue speaking, but you could tell that it was hard for him. “I just… you could have anyone better than me, you know? I’m not a demolition expert. I’m… I’m not the best Sniper. I’m the slowest on the team, pretty sure I’m the weakest–”

“Nope.” Price interrupted, finally breaking the bubble of your personal space as he took a proper seat next to you on the bench but still respecting the distance enough to keep a few inches between you. “Nope, not lettin’ you say another word.”

“But–” 

“Nope.”

“Cap–”

“No.”

“But you could have anyone better—“

“But they wouldn’t be you.” He deflected easily. Far too easily. He leant back on the bench, crossing one leg over the other as he folded his arms over his chest. His fingers twitched and you could tell he was itching for a cigar but didn’t light one out of respect. 

“Alright, sure, I can ask Laswell to give me one of the best soldiers in the SAS and have them brought here tomorrow. They could be the best of the best, top of their class, better than you and maybe even better than me. But that’s a bit of a stretch.” He winked and earned a weak chuckle from you. “But they won’t be you. I don’t pick just on skill alone, kid, I pick based on how I feel people would fit into the team. I chose you because I knew that you’d be perfect.”

“As for not being a demolitions expert, let  me let you in on a little secret. I’ve no fucking clue about demolitions, either. And you don’t have to be on the team to be the ‘best Sniper’. You’re better than most, and that’s what’s important. As for being the weakest– did you or did you not bodily lift Gaz in a fireman’s carry during training the other week while he was trying to act as an injured civilian? Quite dramatically, might I add. Swooned and everything.”

You remembered that practice mission. Quite fondly, actually. Gaz was a civilian and , after being struck by a foam bullet from Soap, had dramatically screamed in agony and crumpled to the floor. When you had lifted him up and over your shoulders, the bastard continued to wail something along the lines of telling his non-existent spouse that he loved them and that his money be given to his equally non-existent children. Soap got in another shot to the man’s head, knocking off his cap in the process. Distracted as you were trying to haul your teammate out of the danger zone, you couldn’t help but laugh thinking about it now. 

“Last time I checked, Gaz is somewhat heavier than a sack of flour. Don’t tell him I said that, I’ll hurt his feelings.” Price was right, you supposed. You were more than capable of carrying Gaz over your shoulders, maybe even Soap or Price himself if the time called for it. Ghost you weren’t so sure about, though. The man was a walking mountain. 

“What I’m trying to say is that you have to give yourself more credit. You’re more than good enough to be on my team. I chose you for a reason.”

You… did not expect that sort of reassurance from Price. You had hoped for something along those lines, yes, but perhaps with a thrown in criticism or three. You waited for a ‘but’ that never came. The man snorted beside you and when you gave him a quizzical look, he waved off your concern.

“Shit, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think the next thing out of your mouth would be that your parents never hugged you as a kid.”

Your silence made him slowly turn his head towards you. It would have almost been comical if the situation wasn’t. His face crumbled and a wounded sound emerged from his throat.

“Sometimes they did!” You rushed to defend the people that raised you. “And they gave me food and shelter, clothes when I needed them–”

“Fucking hell. No, that’s what they’re supposed to do because they’re your parents. What about telling you that they were proud of you? That they loved you? I saw your records. Top of your class in not just your training but in your education, too. Triple sciences, mathematics, all of it. They had to be proud of you for that? My parents would have killed for me to get even a passing grade in my GCSEs.” You looked down at the ground and it was Price’s turn to have his eyes fixed on you. 

“They were proud of you, weren’t they?” He asked again, leaning forwards so he could catch your eye, his own filled with concern. “Kid?”

“I don’t talk to them much anymore.” 

Price inhaled sharply and he leaned back again, looking around and clenching his jaw as if fighting back his anger. His fingers twitched again. You admired his self control as he was still yet to grab a cigar that you knew he kept on his person. Usually in his breast pocket while his lighter was in his right pocket.

“Listen to me.” The Captain said, a more stern edge to his voice now that he had gathered his thoughts together. “Whatever your family said to you— how they treated you? Forget it. They showed you obligation. Not love. They didn’t want what was ‘best’ for you, they wanted bragging rights. What you’ve achieved– here, in bootcamp, in university and in school, is something to take pride in– no, no, look at me.”

Your gaze had trailed to the side so you avoided looking at your Captain in the eyes. He noticed and clicked his fingers to gain your attention back on him.

“Don’t look away from me because I want you to listen to what I’m gonna say and I want you to look at my face as I say it.” Your eyes met his blue ones, “You should be proud of everything that you’ve achieved in your life. I’m sorry that your family never told you that and I’m sorry that I haven’t said that enough to you since you joined 141.”

You opened your mouth to say something– to argue or disagree but he shook his head.

“No. It’s my turn to speak now. I’m proud of you. I am so proud of you. Everything you’ve done and everything that you’re yet to do, I will always be proud of you. You’re an exemplary soldier and I knew the moment I saw you that you would be a perfect addition to the 141 and you have proved me right time and time again. You belong on this team just as much as the rest of the boys. Do you understand?”

So many words– proud, proud, proud. That’s all you had wanted to hear for so many years from someone whose opinion mattered to you. You wanted to be seen and Price, this godsend of a man, had seen you and more.

“Kid, do you understand me?”

You nodded once and then realised that Price wouldn’t have been able to tell through your shaking. Tears blurred in the corners of your eyes and you nodded again, not trusting your voice in case it shattered. 

“What do you need from me?” Price’s voice was oh so soft, like he was talking to a frightened fawn. He could see how much his words had affected you and it clearly broke his own heart.

“A hug.” Your bottom lip wobbled and his face softened as he opened his arms, twitching his fingers to urge you closer.

“I can do that.” 

You leaned into him and he quickly wrapped his arms around you, drawing you in close. You could smell the lingering scent of his last cigar. The smell of his office and cleaning oil. You felt his chin on the top of your head and felt how his chest rumbled as he spoke.

“You’re part of the 141 whether you like it or not, alright? Me and the boys want you here for as long as you want to be.”

At that moment, for the first time in your life. You felt wanted. You felt appreciated and you felt seen.

have a request? send one in!

[edgeray]

*vibrates*

So many wips… 👀

Ok so. IDK. I have. So many “want to sees”. So I’m just gonna list them 🤷‍♀️

Ghost Clervie AU. I’m imagining Clervie watching as Peruere- sorry, *Arlecchino* develops her “cold, strict, and unfeeling Father persona”. But she quickly reverts back to Peruere in the presence of Clervie when Arle figures out she isn’t hallucinating and this isn’t some scheme of someone trying to throw her off balance.

(I’m actually just realizing the parallels of Furina making her Archon persona and Peruere with her Father persona 🤔 Both masks are there in order to better protect the people that rely on them (Fontaine’s citizens and the Hearths Children respectively)). Anyways.

Isekai-ed Arlecchino. I’m just wondering at how that would work and how serious you would make the writing take itself. Like would it be crack, crack that takes itself serious, or serious? (You don’t need to answer that. I was just pondering)

Modern Cat or Bunny Shifter Arle. Arle in her animal form has a nearly 100% coat with the exception of one ear that’s black. It’s cute. Also, I see her as a bunny with floppy ears that are so long that she trips over them XD I’m giggling at the thought she might even be one of those massive bunny breeds too. This makes me wonder if the House exists and whether or not the rest are also shapeshifters. Like a haven for shapeshifters, if you will.

Pirate Arle. You know (you don’t, but I’m telling you 😅) I’m a sucker for enemies(who actually aren’t all that bad) taking in and caring for an abandoned enemy.

Historical Goddess Arle. I think the fact that Reader prays for a painless death rather than no death at all could be intriguing to Arle who probably regularly gets prayers from people not wanting to die?

Spiderwoman Arle. It’s not a want, it’s a need. I’m also a sucker for secret identity relationships. 

Arlecchino w/ Cursed Bio Child.

Alien Arle and Human Reader. Arle and Clervie internally seething at getting another runaway test subject (not at the human, at the fact they were experimented on). That(the facility) would need to be taken care of… (badass ArlexClervie couple who are leaders of an organization who take down illegal trafficking rings, experiment facilities, etc? 👀) Once the newcomer gets adjusted to their new home, of course.

Arlecchino x Alive/Knave Clervie.

Sorry if any of that/the extra commentary seems like I’m trying to press for any of this. Yeah, these are requests. If that’s ok 🙂

👉👈 Hopefully it isn’t overwhelming.

The Other End of the Blade

(Arlecchino x GN! Reader)

A/N - Hi anon, sorry for being late with this anon! I really love your commentary on all of your (mine?) ideas so don’t worry about it! I’ll put more of a response at the end of this.  This one is going to be pirate AU because I too crave some enemies to lovers right now. One piece is the only basis I have for pirates so apologies if it's not alike to other pirate media.    Those of you wondering where this list of ideas come from, it’s from my ideas/wip post, where I store all of the silly little ideas for fanfics. Feel free to request from anything on that list.

Content warnings / info - enemies to lovers, semi-graphic violence, heavily one piece inspired, got WAY too invested into this whoops, 4.0k words

Before you could read books, you could read wanted posters. Before you could spell out your name, you could write down ‘pirate’ and ‘wanted dead or alive.’ Before you could write, you throw a mean punch. Before you knew how to play, you knew how to fight. And before you knew how to count your fingers, you could tie knots. Before you knew what a Marine was, you already were one. And before you knew what ‘love’ means, you knew what hate was and who to hate: pirates. Hatred towards them coursed alongside your blood through your veins. 

Pirates are the scum of the seas, raiders from the depths of the oceans that have come to pillage towns and wreak havoc over the prospering empires. They’re sick people who only know how to steal and how to kill. They rob lives without an ounce of hesitance, ignorant to the misery and suffering they force upon people because of their actions. The world would be better off without them. That way, all people can live in peace without worry from murderers and pillagers like them. Pirates are everything you should hate and you swear that you're going to make it so not one person has to be afraid of their shores–they'll never have to look at the horizon wondering if they see pirate ships in the distance cruising towards them. 

If there is one thing that your family has instilled into you, it would be that a world free of suffering is a world free of pirates. Like every other family member before you, you've been set on the path of greatness that is to eradicate every one of those vermin since birth. The only aspiration you could have is rising the ranks of the Marines. Generations of your family served in the Marine, holding the highest positions. Being anything short of one of the admiral positions, (the lowest of which ranking fourth highest in authority) is a disgrace, a stain on your one of the most prominent Marine families. 

Rising towards the ranks was no difficulty for you. It's only about two years since you've joined the Marines, and you've already risen to a commander position. For reference, even the best of soldiers take four to five years to be promoted to that level. And you know you're about to be promoted–you just need one big case. Just capture one famous pirate, and you know that the Captain rank is yours. One more step closer to cementing your place among the greats of your family. 

– 

Water pelts across your face and the strong sea breeze whips around you. Over your own thumping heart, you can hear the roaring of raging waves paired with the wild flapping of the sails and the creaking of wood. Thudding footsteps rushes all around you, and the clouded sky flashes, thundering. 

“Lower the sails!” You scream at the men as they wrestle with the ropes. Seeing one of the men fumble, you grumble under your breath and shove him away to take over. 

“Get a bucket, and keep getting rid of the water. We need as little water to get into the hull as possible,” you command him, and that's enough to make him useful. 

“Pirate ship spotted!” One of the crew members states and you groan in frustration. A pirate ship at this time? You're only just barely ensuring the vessel does not capsize! Not only is the Marine ship struggling, but no doubt the pirate ship would be too. You release the ropes, seeking out the captain. 

“Captain!” You yell as you head towards him. The cranky man shoots you a snooty glare before turning to a Marine soldier besides him. 

“Hurry up! What flag is it?! Huh? Huh?! Give me a damn answer before I throw you overboard!” Your captain gruffly exclaims at the poor Marine who was holding a spyglass, pointing it towards the oncoming ship. You cringe at the Captain's voice, silently giving sentiments to the other Marine. 

“It's a… um… it.. um…” The Marine stutters, unsure of what to make of the flag. You grind your teeth before wrenching it out of his hands and examining the flag yourself with squinted eyes. In between  heavy rain and dark surroundings, you can just barely recognize the flag: a hand grasping a candle. 

Damn it! At this time?! 

“It's the Hearth pirates!” You announce, tossing the scope to your Captain to see. 

“The Hearth? You mean one of the Harbinger crews?!” The old man grunts before seeing for himself. His facial features morph into one of disbelief before hardening. 

“I want every cannon manned now! Get your weapons ready and drawn! All hands on deck!” The Captain demands. The confusion and disbelief was practically palpable among the Marines, and felt through their second of hesitation before the soldiers’ replied with a ‘yes Captain.’

Is he crazy? What the hell is wrong with him? As much as you would love to capture the notorious Hearth pirates, you knew now was nothing but an imprudent time. Even if the Hearth was among the less deadly of the Harbinger crews, that did not make them any less powerful. You have heard from other Marines’ hushed whispers that it takes at least a large fleet (5 Marine ships) to take down one entire Harbinger ship, and even that was theoretical. The Fatui pirates as a whole are damn near unstoppable, but the Harbingers themselves are monsters ripped from hell. As much as you hate to admit, you’re not strong enough to defeat a Harbinger, and you have similar doubts for your Captain. Where does he get this pomposity from?

The other men are struggling enough to keep this piece of wood afloat, and now they have to worry about battling pirates? You doubt even the Hearth is eager for a fight. Fighting in this storm would only lead to early graves for both sides. Winning against and capturing the Hearth pirates is unfavorable, but surviving past this storm is indisputable. 

“Wait, Captain!” You call out to him. An annoyed click of his tongue comes from him, as if you were the bother, and it only makes you clench your hands into fists. He turns his back towards you, irritation written all over his expression. 

“What are you standing around for? Get ready already!” He demands with a scrunched face. 

“We can't engage in battle with them yet! We don’t have enough men, and we're already struggling with the storm!” You protest. “We're in no condition to try and fight them!”

Silence. Around you, you hear whispers from the other crewmates, sounds of agreement coming from them. Evidently, this increases the captain's indignation. 

“Quiet!” He screams. “If we're struggling, just think about how they could be faring! They don't have nearly enough resources as us marines do to survive! This is our chance to capture one of the Harbinger crews!

“After all,” he pauses to give you a pointed, haughty look. “We have one of the members of the greatest family? We won't lose with you on our side, right? We're in your hands.”

You bristle, your nails digging into your palm as your lips twitch into a deeper frown. To think he would use your family name against you. What is he even trying to do? You're too stunned to respond and he brushes past you. 

You're absolutely powerless to do anything, and so are the other soldiers on this ship. No one here outranks the Captain. No matter how correct you may be, you would be punished for disobeying a superior's order. If only you could have been promoted earlier, then you wouldn't have to listen to this fool. Had it been you, you would have this ship steered towards the closest Marine base and report what direction the Hearth pirates are going. But you can't do that. You nod pathetically, and the rest of the men disperse. 

You can only watch as the smaller ship approaches closer and closer. As soon as Hearth pirates enter within the firing range, chaos ensues with your Captain's bellowed “FIRE!” 

A cacophony of screams and cannon fire sound through the air, deafening you, and the overpowering smell of gunpowder and brine swarm your nostrils. Like all naval battles, it’s always a blur–just a flash of colors and movements. At some point, the pirate ship approached close enough for them to board onto the Marine ship. You are not aware of this until you find yourself face to face with one of the Hearth pirates. By then, all rationale has been thrown out in favor of instinct–the most precise, miniscule reaction is what keeps you alive the most when it comes to battling pirates. Your surroundings fade from your awareness, your only attention on the figure before you.

She’s a young pirate, that you can tell, but her skills are no less admirable. She has an ever passive, unreadable face that makes predicting her movements hard to discern and even harder to catch off guard. You narrowly dodge another slash of her saber, and your cutlass swishes through the air, only shallowly cutting her sleeve. Despite this, she is far from deterred, and you have to parry another swing. The steel of the blades screeches as your blades clash against each other. Now at a temporary standstill, the both of you exchange eye contact for a brief moment. Lilac eyes, brimming with determination, skirts away from yours. She pulls away only to lunge again, a thrust of her blade heading towards you abdomen but you dodge, side-stepping it. The blade skims just past you, embedding into the wood of one of the masts. Realizing the given opportunity, you give a swift kick to the pirate’s stomach, disconnecting her hand from the handle of her sword. She tumbles onto the ground with a grunt, and you use no time to close the distance. 

Just as you are about to deliver another blow, a loud gunshot sounds through, making you flinch. A sharp pain erupts from your left shoulder and you stumble back from the young pirate. You cock your head, peering behind you. This action allows you to narrowly miss two oncoming daggers, though your cheek and neck get nicked. Spinning on your heel, you face the dagger wielding pirate fully. He’s a young boy, with a top hat and matching eyes of the saber user. Siblings, perhaps? The fierceness in his eyes confirms your suspicions. 

You charge at the boy, but before reaching him, a large wave crashes into the boat, water spilling overboard and throwing you off balance. The sudden impact makes you lose your balance, and you’re hurtled towards the railings of the ship, your back slamming into it. An audible crack emits from the collision and your spine screams out in agony. Lifting yourself into a crawling position, you glance up at the havoc over the deck. 

A bit close to you is your captain, fighting against a white-haired woman. Given the striking polearm she wields, that must be the Knave, one of the eleven Harbingers of the Fatui pirates. Her movements are graceful, every thrust and slash calculated and precise. In contrast, your captain’s movements are botched, desperate. Every output of effort from him is just for another instance of him scraping by with his life. Each parry with his saber leaves his arms trembling. He is a bumbling mess compared to the Knave. Easily, you can tell it’s a losing battle for your captain. He’s outclassed. 

You’re about to rise when a flicker of bright light catches your gaze. Your eyes widen as you turn your head to spot a bright orange mass covering a part of the deck, and it only grows the longer you gaze at it. The flames stalk towards you with a terrifying space. Despite your body’s protest, you beckon your body to stand. When you have both feet on the wooden planks, you head towards your captain to assist him in his battle. Abruptly, the Marine ship shakes, another current assaulting its side. Swept off your feet, your body is flung, your lower abdomen hitting the top of the railings while you roll off of the ship. It’s only by sheer luck that your hand catches the base of the railing, holding onto it with all the strength you could muster in your left arm. The rest of your body hangs over the ever-swallowing sea. 

Your grasp is slipping because of the rain. You grunt as you try to lift yourself with just one arm. Opening your mouth, you clench your teeth onto the spine of your cutlass, freeing up your right arm to grip onto the base of another fence. With much effort, you’re able to heave your head up so that your eyesight is just over the floor. You can spot the familiar boots of the captain. Every muscle in your arm is straining, burning painfully. Holding on for much longer is impossible.

The cutlass has to go. You let the weapon fall from your mouth, and it plunges into the waters below. 

“Captain! Captain!” The guttural outcry comes from your lips. There’s the groaning of wood breaking. A large shadow looms over you, and you lift your gaze. The mast above tilts down, forewarning its collapse on top of you. 

“CAPTAIN!” You scream out, no longer having the strength to lift your head above the deck. You dangle helplessly, your grip slacking with each second. 

You hear thumping footsteps towards you, and you have never been more grateful to see the unsightliness of your captain’s face peering over the railings. 

For a moment, he does nothing, viewing your vulnerable state. His lips twitch, a small smile stretches over his face. He turns away briefly, glancing in both the right and left direction, before focusing on you again. 

“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure that they know you fought honorably,” he says, venom in his voice. “So go ahead and let go.”

Your blood freezes, and his face disappears. Your arms can no longer continue and you let up. 

You fall, plunging into the icy cold waters. The iciness does not just seep into your blood, but your muscles and tendons too, making your body heavy. Air is stolen away from you and you flail and kick to the surface for air. Everything hurts. As you sputter for oxygen, coughing out the saltwater, your vision catches the glimpse of a long brown mass toppling down onto you. It’s the last thing you see when something hits the back of your head, and everything fades into an inky abyss. 

—

Everything hurts. It's the first thing that comes to you when you are able to grasp even a bit of consciousness. You feel it in your limbs, your back, your abdomen, essentially anything above your waist has a stabbing sensation in it. A groan, followed by a deep suction of air, emerges from you, and you lift your head up. Your eyes flutter open, bright light stabbing into your eyes. You let out a pained groan, rolling your neck to ease its discomfort but find it unhelpful. 

Your eyes adjust to the orange glow of your surroundings. You blink several times to relieve the blurriness in your vision, able to see more clearly. Given the rocking motion and the familiar sound of waves crashing, you would reckon you're on a ship. Looking down at yourself, you're seated on a chair. You attempt to sit up, only to find yourself unable to. Rope digs into the skin of your bound wrists, and you let out a string of expletives in a single defeated sigh. 

“Did you learn that tongue from the Marines?” A cutthroat voice resounds through the room. 

You dip your head, turning towards the figure. A tall woman leans against the wall in the corner, a good bit of distance away. White and black strands, charcoal hands, crimson crossed-pupils, and the epitome of beauty and refinement that marks the appearance of the Knave. Strange to find that among pirates, of all brutish people. Your hazy mind clears in an instant, and you sit up straighter. The pirate captain's presence brings about your most recent memories onto the forefront of your mind in short bursts. With a forceful swallow, you recognize that you have been captured by the Hearth pirates. If you're alive rather than dead, that means they have some use for you. Whatever it is, you need to escape from this. You can only do that when you fish for enough information. 

Taking in your surroundings, you'd have to guess you're in some storage room. Stacked barrels make up the majority of the room. Perhaps if you're able to access the contents of the barrels, you can use them to escape. If not, you could easily ruin their supplies, including food and water. 

“I just thought communicating would be easier in your language,” you snark back, observing the Harbinger's reaction. Expectedly, she remains inexpressive, revealing nothing. She leans away from the wall, stalking towards you. Heels click against the floorboards. Only pirates would have the audacity to be wearing such compromising shoes out on the sea. 

She stands before you, unmoving, her piercing gaze smiliarly fixated on your form. When nothing comes from her lips, you make conversation first.

“Admiring me?” 

This earns a humorless chuckle. “There's nothing to admire.” 

Ow. 

A frown comes across your face. Acting coy does not work on pirates like the Knave. The Knave seems like someone who only responds to directness. No use in stalling. 

“What happened to my crew?”

“They were alive when we left them.” 

“And are they still alive?”

“Presumably.” 

You grit your teeth, lunging at her in anger. Your bounds don't allow for much movement, and it only makes your chair screech across the floor boards towards the pirate. “You left them in the middle of the storm with a ruined ship! You killed them!” 

“You were the fools that decided to attack us.”

“You would have attacked us first! You scum aren't above anything! How can I even trust your word? How do I not know you're not lying to my face?! How do I know you haven't slaughtered them all?!” You scream, thrashing against the ropes wildly.  

“I doubt any persuasion could relieve your distrust. I see that any sort of conversation with you will be futile,” the pirate remarks. She spins on her heel, heading towards the door. You're almost tempted to let her if it means the chance of never seeing her face again, until another thought crosses your mind. 

Why did she want some sort of conversation with you?

“Wait.”

The Knave stops in her tracks. “Are you choosing to be civil for once?” 

You scrunch your nose. “Never mind. I can't bear seeing your face again.” 

An audible huff comes from the pirate before she does face back towards. 

“Why did you… why did you keep me alive? Why did you spare me? Why did you…” You pause, recalling back to your last memories. You were knocked unconscious by falling debris, that you were sure of. You should have drowned by all accounts. You doubt your crewmates have saved you–you hate to admit it, but you would have sunk to the seabed before one of them had noticed. Your crewmates would have been too focused on the pirates to have. If it wasn't any one from your party, then that only leaves the opposing party. However, there is no logical reason for them to. You'd sooner accept divine intervention rather than pirates having rescued you. 

The voice in your head, the voice that has been fostered since your childhood, tells you that it is neither of those two, just a sick sense of karma. Pirates aren't capable of any good doing. If they've kept you alive, it's because they intend to hurt you even more. They're inhuman monsters who only know how to steal and steal, until nothing of you is left. Wretched people that shouldn't even have the luxury of being labeled as ‘humans.’ 

“Why am I here?” You finally settle on those words. 

Silence stretches for a single moment before she begins. “You encountered two of my children, yes?” 

You raise your eyebrows at the mention of ‘children.’ You're aware that some captains likened themselves to a parental figure of their crew–it seems like the Knave is one of those cases. You think back to the young ash blond pirates you briefly fought. 

“The swordswoman and the dagger thrower,” you reply.

“Correct. I found Lyney as a child, when I was wandering the alleys of a shoretown. He bumped into me because he was in a hurry to save his sister from being sold to a high ranking Marine.”

Shock envelopes your face as you process those words. A Marine? Someone whose duty is to protect citizens? A high ranking Marine? Someone whose performance and power is praiseworthy and yet they would do something like that? The thought sickens you. That kind of behavior… that can only pertain to a pirate right? It is not possible for a Marine to act that way. Other Marine officials would have never allowed it. She must be feeding falsehoods to trick you, to get you to betray your family and duty. There's no way this would happen. 

Despite your inner turmoil, Arlecchino continues. “When I took them in, fed them and gave them somewhere to sleep, it took several months for Lyney to sleep in his own quarters. He couldn't be torn away from his sister's quarters. Any chore assigned to him, Lynette had to be beside him. You would have to possess a superhuman strength to separate him from her.”

You could imagine why. Your stomach churns uncomfortably, hating the fact that with every word, her story seems more and more plausible. Why were you even considering this fabricated story? Why were you being swayed by a pirate's tongue?

“Why are you telling me this? You didn't take me to tell your kids’ sob story,” you remark. 

“Every single person on this ship has been dealt an unfortunate hand by the Marines. My children,” she speaks with a hint of indignation, her voice chillingly sincere, “have suffered and wept because of a Marine. Not one of them has ever had a good history with a Marine.” 

She gives you a pointed look, one that makes your blood boil. You hate it, you want to gauge her eyes out because you can see the glint of sympathy in them. “I see now that it's not just people having been harmed by the Marines. But their own people too.” 

“I am not some pitiful stray you found on the street!” You scream, having heard enough of this. “I have not been wronged by-” 

“Your captain abandoned you.” That is all it takes to silence you, and your outburst dies the instant it comes. Any protests on your lips is pummeled away by the heaviness in your chest that forms whenever you think back to that moment. Arms aching, helpless and dangling, and the man you relied upon to lead you and guide you, turns away. He left you, simple as that, to die. Why? You couldn't even fathom a reason. How could a captain do that? After all your service, after all you've done for him, he leaves you.

“You would have died because of a self-serving captain.” 

And you still have the audacity to try and defend him. The Marines are all you know. He was just one man. That did not mean all the Marines were like that. “He was just one man.”

“One man is all it takes. One man is one too many. And if that were true, no one else would be on my ship. I do not believe that all Marines are as revolting as him. Quite the opposite. But there is enough and that's the problem. 

“You may find it hard to believe, but we want to welcome you. If you choose to so stubbornly reject our hospitality and company, we will drop you off at the nearest island so you may return to your duty. But here, we at least know of loyalty and family, I assure you that.” 

The Knave approaches you. You hear the unsheathing of a blade and you feel your wrists relieved from their bounds. You gape at her. 

“Welcome to the House of the Hearth.” 

More A/N: I know this was really long, and not at all romantic, but I got way too invested into the plot of it all to actually focus on the romance. Please someone request a part two because I haven't enjoyed writing a piece this much in a while (i know my inbox is closed for requests but I will make this an exception. This was such a fun piece that really had me invested the entire time while writing. I would love to see Arlecchino's and Reader's relationship develop more. I hope you guys enjoyed this because it's now the longest request I've ever written.

I'm not done yapping, unfortunately. To address anon's commentary. First of all, never be sorry for the commentary. I love yapping, as you may be able to tell. I love hearing your guys' ideas and I think they're all so cool!! (I'm also lonely :v pls talk to me anons).

I love, love, love Arlecchino's character, and I so wish to see it more explored in x Reader fics (I have something like this in the works ehehe) and I totally see the comparison between Furina and Clervie (even though I don't ship Arlefuri).

I've already written Goddess! Arlecchino x Reader! I've linked it in case you haven't seen it before. I'm also working on an Alien! Arlecchino x Human! Reader, so not quite like the Alien AU! Arlevie, but I thought it's something you might be interested. I think that Bunny! Arle would be more like her plush in the Arlecchino animation, but seeing her with floppy ears is such a cute image. With the Isekai AU, I guess it really depends on my mood. (I've also put a different concept for an Arlecchino Isekai-ed AU in the same post), but likely the one mentioned in your asks will have more crack.

I really want to think you for your conideration of my ideas!! It means a lot to me that people actually see them and like can envision it and feel the raw potential for that story like I do. I know it took super long for me to get to this request and it might not even be how you wanted but I hope you like it. <333

Note to future requests: if you guys give me a list of ideas you want me to do (bc you're as indecisive as I am), I can pick one to write :33)

[viaviavie]

Ok sorry I caught the brain worms and now I have to share them with you. I apologize in advance for any grammar mistakes and what not. I’m not a writer, I strongly prefer reading, and English is my second language. So feel free to ignore my ramblings.

So. Your “A painted white rose, still so red” fic. Wonderful thing. Love that Ace was dreaming about all of the horrors that would happen to him and his friends. And Yuu the one that is trapped in a time loop doomed to repeat every overbolt until they survive / make sure everyone else gets out unscathed.

That’s all well and good but… Ace and Yuu aren’t the only ones that have to face each overbolt.

Deuce always knew he wasn’t the smartest academically. Seven he’s barely passing his exams with the help of his house warden. But he isn’t dense enough to not notice his best friends weird behaviors.

He has caught Ace multiple times pulling the Prefect away from the group to talk to them in private. That in and of itself wouldn’t be so weird if they didn’t insist on him taking Grim for a minute while they talked. The others brushed this off but for some reason it stuck with Deuce.

This proved useful as during a lecture one of their classmates decided to mess around and almost blow up the classroom. Due to Ace and the Prefects quick thinking a majority of the damage was prevented.

Deuce always knew he wasn’t as smart as the Prefect or as annoyingly cunning as Ace. That didn’t keep him from being impressed by how prepared his friends seemed whenever disaster struck. It’s almost as if they knew it was going to happen.

He really starts to suspect something was up once the Prefect sent him an SOS in the middle of winter break. Once he met up with Ace to return to NRC to check up on them Ace was beside himself. Constantly checking his phone for any updates or always mumbling something about Snakes for some reason. Whenever Deuce tried to ask him what’s wrong or what Ace meant by that he’d always get waved off and or ignored.

When they finally, finally made it back to NRC and found the Prefect chilling with the Octavinelle Trio and the Scarabia dorm Deuce was confused. Ace on the other hand pushed past the crowd of people without another thought, on the way glaring at the Vice-House Warden of Scarabia.

(Why would Ace glare at someone he’s never even met before?) Deuce doesn’t need to wait long for an explanation to come, because it appears in the form of two familiar eals that explain that surprise, surprise another overbolt happened. (But how would Ace know that?)

Deuce knows what it’s like to have secrets you would rather not share with anyone. Really he understands. After all he also has things he only shares with his best friends if at all. But as he watches Ace and the Prefect reunite after all the stress of the past week he can’t help but feel hurt as he realizes that his best friends don’t trust him enough to keep their secret.

in reference to this post

ugh you just smashed my heart with an anvil— i love how it aches :)

(but i loved your rambling and your english was great! do drop by with those ramblings of your sometime, i adore it :DDDD )

Poor Deuce. A part of Ace thinks that Deuce is lucky that he isn't plagued with such nightmares, but never stops to consider that his best friend has his own inner turmoil. Ace, Deuce, the Prefect— they were always supposed to be a trio. And yet, this friendship has grown into a triangle, and Deuce sits at a point where his two friends had grown further and further away.

This weird sense of distant doesn't catch his eye in every loop. When Deuce feels out of place, however, it threatens to make him angry. There were certainly times when he has wanted to fight Ace for an answer, especially when he knows when Ace is lying straight to his face when the redhead was clearly bothered. Deuce never exactly confronts you, though. The Prefect has grown so tired of reacting and making mistakes to the point that you're just going through the motions sometimes.

To twist the knife even further, Ace and the Prefect never communicate about what is being foreseen in most loops until it's too late. Now, you have three different people tugging and pulling at one another to avoid the worst possible endings. Ace, who tries to prevent those Bad Ends from happening. The Prefect, who is still searching for more options and routes to take to survive the next overblot. And then there's Deuce, who cannot see ahead of the script and is forced to play along with the messes that Ace and the Prefect make. Ace would never confide in Deuce because he won't consider the idea that someone will believe in his crazy story. The Prefect can never confide in Deuce because it hurts to see him try to find a solution.

Nonetheless, no matter how hurt Deuce gets, his care for his best friends never change. Even when it ended with him hurt or dead in some loops, Deuce trusts both of you, even when the truth is something he would never hear.

That being said, I still think about the scene that I cut from the original. Contrary to what Ace thought, Deuce would have definitely trusted that Ace was telling the truth. That was why Deuce breaks out two blastcycles and was more than willing to help row a boat to get the Prefect as far away from the campus as possible during the events of book 7. You could only imagine how heartbroken Prefect was to reawaken back in that coffin, knowing that all the love that Deuce and Ace poured into you was now lost.

The Prefect has watched Ace and Deuce care for you for over a hundred loops now. There are time loops where the Prefect pushes aside those failures and puts up that smile as the process repeats itself again. There are also those time loops where the Prefect cries and cannot explain why when Ace and Deuce come to the rescue in the mines.

[isak-dot-gov]

Accidental Reveal - Part Two: Under Pressure

Pairing: Inȇs Bettencourt

Word count: 1393

My Masterlist :)

..............................................................................

It had been a few days since the accidental slip-up on KK Arnold’s livestream, and the buzz around Inȇs’ relationship had only intensified. What had started as a handful of curious comments had snowballed into a full-on internet frenzy. Social media was ablaze with speculation about who Ines's mysterious "girlfriend" could be. While Ines had been hoping the storm would pass, it seemed that every new post or video only fueled the fire.

Worse, many fans had started connecting dots that led straight to you. You, the rising singer whose tour was lighting up stages across the country. Your fans were rabid, and every move you made was closely monitored by the media and dedicated stans. The coincidence of your performance that same night, paired with Inȇs’ comment about watching her "girlfriend’s tour," had everyone buzzing. Your names were suddenly being thrown around together in forums, TikTok breakdowns, and Twitter threads. There were fan theories, edits, and endless speculation—all centred on the idea that you and Ines were secretly dating.

At first, Inȇs tried to stay calm. She told herself it would blow over. After all, no one had definitive proof, and neither of you had made a public statement. But the pressure was mounting. Every time she opened her phone, there were hundreds of notifications—DMs from strangers, comments on her photos, even private messages from people she barely knew, asking if the rumours were true. 

And it was wearing her down.

She was barely sleeping, her mind racing with worst-case scenarios. What if the media hounded you? What if the extra attention hurts your career? What if all of this stress started affecting her performance on the court? Ines felt like she was spiralling, the weight of it all pressing down on her chest every second of the day.

It didn’t take long for her teammates to notice.

“Yo, you good?” Paige asked, nudging Inȇs gently with her elbow as they walked to practise one morning. Paige had a way of reading people, and Ines had been off for days now.

Inȇs forced a smile. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired, I guess.”

But Paige wasn’t buying it. Neither was Azz, who was walking alongside them, watching Inȇs with a concerned frown.

“You haven’t been yourself lately,” Azzi said softly. “Is it all the stuff online?”

Inȇs’ stomach twisted, her hands tightening around her phone. She had been trying so hard to act like it wasn’t getting to her, but the truth was, she felt like she was drowning. Every time she scrolled through social media, there was another wave of speculation, another surge of people guessing that it was you.

“It’s just…” she swallowed, her voice barely above a whisper. “It’s a lot.”

“You need to stop looking at your phone,” Nika chimed in, joining the conversation as they reached the locker room. “That stuff will drive you crazy.”

“I know,” Inȇs muttered, but she couldn’t help it. It was like a car crash—she couldn’t look away. She was so anxious about what people were saying, about how it was all spiralling out of control.

KK, who had been silent for most of the walk, finally spoke up as they sat down to change into their practice gear. “This is my fault,” she said, her voice full of guilt. “If I hadn’t gone live…”

Inȇs shook her head quickly. “No, KK, this isn’t your fault. I’m the one who slipped up. I just… I don’t know how to deal with it.”

Paige, ever the leader, exchanged a look with Azzi, Nika, and KK. “Maybe it’s time we step in,” Paige said, her voice firm. She turned to Ines, her expression serious but kind. “Give us your phone.”

“What?” Inȇs blinked, startled.

“Give us your phone,” Azzi repeated, holding out her hand. “You’re obsessing over it, and it’s making things worse. Let us handle it for a bit.”

Inȇs hesitated. Her phone was her lifeline to you, and part of her felt like if she could just keep checking, she could somehow control the situation. But the other part of her—the part that was tired, stressed, and overwhelmed—knew her friends were right.

Reluctantly, she handed her phone over.

Nika immediately took it and began scrolling through the messages and comments. “This is nuts,” she muttered. “These people have way too much time on their hands.”

Paige sighed. “Welcome to the internet.”

KK, feeling guilty and responsible for the whole thing, took a deep breath. “We should call her.”

Inȇs blinked. “Call who?”

“You know who,” KK said, raising her eyebrows. “Her. You’re not dealing with this alone anymore. We’re going to figure this out together. Maybe it’s time for her to come out here and be with you for a bit. You need her.”

Inȇs felt her heart race at the thought. You hadn’t seen each other in weeks, and she desperately missed you. But with everything going on, would it really help? Or would it make things worse?

“Just trust us, okay?” Azzi said gently, as KK hit the call button on your contact.

---

You had just wrapped up a meeting with your team when your phone buzzed. Seeing KK’s name pop up was a surprise, especially since you hadn’t expected her to call you directly. You quickly excused yourself and answered the call.

“Hey, KK? What’s up?” you asked, wondering if something had happened.

“Hey, sorry to bother you,” KK said, her voice a little hesitant. “We’ve got a situation here with Inȇs, and, well… we think you should come visit.”

There was a shuffle on the other end, and suddenly Paige’s voice came through. “She’s not doing great. The whole internet thing—it’s getting to her, and she’s stressed out of her mind. It’s affecting her, and we don’t know what else to do, so we thought maybe you could help.”

Your heart sank. You had sensed something was off in Ines’s recent texts and calls, but you didn’t realise how bad it had gotten. “She didn’t tell me it was this bad.”

“She didn’t want to worry you,” Nika chimed in. “But it’s affecting her—big time.”

Azzi’s voice was calm but insistent. “She misses you. And honestly, I think having you here, even for a day, would make a huge difference. You don’t have to do anything—just be here.”

You didn’t hesitate. “I’ll make it work. I can fly to Connecticut during her next off day.”

KK sighed in relief. “Perfect. We’ll figure out the details and surprise her. I think she really needs this.”

You nodded, even though they couldn’t see you. “Thank you, guys. I’ll text you my schedule, and we can plan it out.”

The call ended, and you quickly started rearranging your plans. Inȇs needed you, and that was all that mattered.

---

A few days later, it was a rare off day for the team. Inȇs had spent most of the morning in her dorm room, trying to relax, but her mind was still buzzing with anxiety. She had barely touched her phone, following her teammates' advice to disconnect, but it wasn’t helping as much as she’d hoped.

She didn’t expect the knock on her door.

When she opened it, there you were—standing in front of her with a soft smile, your eyes filled with love and concern. For a moment, Ines just stared, frozen in shock.

“Surprise,” you said gently, stepping forward to wrap your arms around her.

The second your arms were around her, the dam broke. Ines buried her face in your shoulder, the weight of everything finally crashing down on her. Tears spilled from her eyes, and she clung to you as though you were her lifeline.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Shh,” you soothed, rubbing her back. “You don’t have to apologise. I’m here now. We’ll get through this together.”

Inȇs nodded, her tears slowly subsiding as she leaned into your warmth. For the first time in days, she felt a sense of calm wash over her.

From down the hall, Paige, Azzi, KK, and Nika watched with satisfied smiles.

“I knew this would help,” KK whispered.

Paige grinned. “She’s going to be okay now.”

With you by her side, Inȇs knew that no matter what the internet threw at her, she’d be okay too. Together, you’d face the world—one step at a time.

..................................................

[aidansplaguewind]

Hi @andreabaideas ! We don't know each other but I follow @mzannthropy and I just wanted to say I agree with everything you said about expressing one's opinions and not caring what others think of it. And yes, especially women. I'm a very opinionated woman and as a result I've been called so many awful things by men. I just don't understand why they can't handle us having a voice. I don't understand what's going on in the US right now and why men are so offended by women in power. I mean, don't get me wrong, I can explain it in ways like they're deeply insecure and their masculinity is incredibly fragile, and they're afraid women no longer need men for anything (including sex) and that, especially, terrifies them. But even knowing all of that, I still just don't understand it. So what if a woman doesn't need you, isn't it enough that one WANTS you? But I think the problem lies there. It means they actually have to TRY to get a woman to want them because the days of women having to get married to survive are mostly gone. And now they have to try to be better people, they have to try to hold an intelligent conversation, they have to try to have varied interests and hobbies etc. And frankly I think most men are lazy when you look at that way and they don't want to put forth the effort to earn our interest and desire.

Anywho...

@mzannthropy I think we discussed this before, about how when I first got into Sam earlier this year I noticed immediately that there was a lot of appreciation and attention on his roles on The Hunger Games, Daisy Jones, and ME Before You. I'm wondering though if these are, in fact, people that I would consider fairweather fans. Not used by exact definition but its the closest I can think of to describe it. It's people who only like a celebrity for like one or two roles and are more in love with the character than the actor. Usually those fans don't stick around once the fixation on said character wears off.

I admit, I'm not as huge a fan of Sam as you or @jesstasticvoyage are, because my heart will always belong to Aidan Gillen, but I do consider myself a genuine fan. I just enjoy watching Sam work. He's extremely talented, unbelievably so. I will also admit that he's a far better actor than Aidan. I can't really put into words what he brings to the screen. A passion for what he does, obviously, but more than that. He's simply fantastic. One of my favorite performances of his is Oswald Mosley in Peaky Blinders. He's despicable but Sam is such a pleasure to watch in that performance. As good looking as he is, he did so well, I still hated his guts as Oswald.

Billy Dunne is also a favorite, even though I know you have a lot of not great opinions on DJATS. I didn't read the book so I have nothing to compare it to, so I did enjoy it very much. I was just baffled at what all he did to achieve that performance. The weight loss, yes, and learning to play an instrument, learning to SING well, recording an entire album. That's dedication. And when he's on screen I 100% believe he is Billy Dunne.

I also really liked him in Their Finest. Devastated by the ending but I loved watching it. His performance in The Corrupted is notable as well because that character just seems so not like real life Sam but he pulled it off completely.

Anyway, I'm getting off my point, which was that I personally think if you only like an actor in one role, you can't really say you're a REAL fan of that actor. A fan of the character, sure, but how can one be a fan of the actor if they only like them in one thing? Or even just two things? Especially if you look at the characters in question. They're these McDreamy type characters written and cast to get the attention of young women and teenage girls. I don't want to sound like a gatekeeper but if you only like one role then you're a fan of the character.

Omg, I just made this post so long. Imma shut up now. I really do have too many opinions sometimes 😅

Sam Claflin and Holliday Grainger in ‘Any Human Heart’ (2010)