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choas232 · 2 months ago

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G/N Chatty reader x Steb 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

Summary: In which you grapple with feelings you don’t yet understand by talking a certain enforcer’s ears off. Forced proximity makes everything worse, as it tends to.

CWs: Profanity. Canon typical violence. Reader has some bias about Zaunites they probably need to work on. I wrote most of this at 10pm at night, so be warned.

No use of Y/N, neutral terms and they/them are used to refer the reader. Set in episode three, season 2.

Word count: 2.9k

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝

“God. I’m starving. And tired. I barely slept at allllll last night. Do you think the Grey’s keeping us awake? Our glorious leader Kiramman sure wants it to, dragging us along at this cracking speed. It’s been a whole week, too. I’m gonna drop dead, at this rate.” You lament. Your fellow enforcer does not comment from his place behind you, his footsteps echoing around the pipe.

Graffiti crowds the metal surface, amateur artworks, declarations of love, violence, and scripts you don’t recognise cramming themselves over one another, space sparse and sought after. It’s not Jinx’s work. Still, there’s a chill on your back you choose to attribute to the profanities.

The people of the underground sure know how to decorate, that’s for sure.

You two have been chosen to scout out a fairly low-danger area in search of a Zuanite’s sighting of Jinx. He did say it after a hefty heaping of Grey was funnelled into his lungs and a gun was held to his head, but Caitlyn is paranoid enough to bark at shadows, and you will oblige, if only to keep her happy.

It’s not like any of you are much better. Loris is quieter than ever, Maddie jumps at the smallest sounds and of your companion… you have no idea. You never have. Steb’s inner workings remain a mystery to you.

You turn. “Are we there yet? We should be there soon, right?” Steb nods distantly, more focused on the setting around you.

This part of the pipes is yet to be flooded with grey, so you can see him clearly without the obscuring mask.

His light teal skin, thin lips, nose, sharp, angular features. His neat uniform. His polished posture. He is distinctly and utterly out of place amongst the chaos that surrounds you. His eyes are so blue. So opalescent, shining like pearls in his eye sockets. Is that weird to notice? How much detail is it normal to notice about someone? You should probably stop looking.

His ribbed ears flick back, ever so slightly, eyes flicking to meet yours for a brief moment.

You look away. “Uh.” His eyes. His blue eyes. Blue. “God. I’m sooo hungry. Hah. I haven’t eaten since this morning. The rations are running out, and all the Zaunite stuff Vi is bringing in is uhm, questionable.”

You don’t look behind you again, your mouth moving quicker. Your breath is tight, probably because of the steady stream of words flowing from your mouth. You think. “I would kill for a good sandwich. Or two. I might have to resort to cannibalism—”

Hands enclose around your collar and yank you back with force.

Below you, a human sized-hole lined with rusted, broken metal grating, a slowly, ever spinning fan—

Your heart staggers in your chest like a drunkard. Images of your empaled, scraped, body twisted and pressed beyond recognition cram into your skull, rattle and scream.

“Fuck.” You mumble, quietly. Steb’s hand releases your collar. “C-close one. Thanks. Fish-sticks. How didn’t I see that?” You laugh. He doesn’t. It isn’t funny.

He brushes the shoulder pads of your uniform off, carefully but hastily looking you up and down. He keeps a respectable distance between you, but you can still see his adam’s apple bob as he swallows. You mimic him. Your mouth feels dry.

He fixes you with a look as his hands drop to his sides, and although his face usually retains some semblance of ambiguity on it, you know exactly what he’s thinking. Watch where you’re going.

“Sorry doc. I…” You trail off. You should stop talking. You probably talk so much around him because he makes you nervous. Why does he make you nervous? Your usual slamming of thoughts trickles dry. You have no idea.

Carefully, you two traverse over the great gaping hole in the pipework. How did you miss it? You don’t sure don’t miss how Steb watches you hawk-like though, and the following guilt is low and prickling in your gut. He goes first, and every small unprompted movement of yours has him stiffening, arm moving to steady you.

“Jeez. Don’t mother hen me, I’m all grown-up, I assure you.” You bat him away, landing with a clang! of the metal against your boots as you leap across the last segment. His frown is resounding.

A corner stretches before you, now. You let him go first with a swing of your arm just in case the metal of the pipe opens up to attempt to swallow you yet again. “All yours,” He obliges.

It’s an open space. Milky green light filters through the roofing, painting the graffiti stained flooring monochromatic and hazy. Two other pipes adjoin to the room, and a mural of Janna clad in white laced with metallic armour bounds over the walls. It looks exactly like what was described, which is worrying, because hey, Jinx!

The sniffling child is even more worrying, though. Looking up, she brushes away dark locks ��from her face and bursts into prompt tears. “Please, m-my-my… my leg. it really hurts.” She wails.

Sure enough, one of her legs is crushed under a slab of tin, making itself known as the cause of the light filtering through the roof. “Please. Please.” Snot dribbles down onto her ragged shirt, her big brown eyes blown wide.

Steb is already gone before you can access the situation, bounding over.

Poor kid. You wince, tapping your fingers against your lips. Probably just playing with the ball you see perched nearby when shoddy craftmanship led to tragedy. Still… “Jeez. Think to consider a trap? No? Just me.” You mutter.

“Just you.” The voice from behind you amusedly whispers, and then you feel the cool rim of the gun pressed against your skull.

Fear makes a mockery out of you. Your thoughts accelerate, snapping at each others heels, but you cannot think. You aren’t really the brawlers of the team. He’s the field medic, for fuck’s sake, and while you can handle yourself in a fight this is more of a Vi job. You regret mocking her cuisine choices. This is probably some kind of sick karma. Sick? You feel sick. God, your stomach is writhing, your insides eating each other up.

Steb, still blinded by his tunnel vision, hauls the tin off of the girl. His ears flick down as he peers down at the clean space beneath, clean of blood and gore. Her leg, unblemished and by all means healthy looking, curls back into her body, and then she bursts outwards like a spring, down the nearest tunnel.

Too late, he looks back at you.

“I’m sure they require you topsiders to rattle a few braincells together to wear that fancy uniform. They don’t need allll of them, do they?” The man holding the gun to your head calls out to him. Flesh drips from his arms, lanky and lean, pressing against your neck as he holds you into him. You smell the shimmer on his breath before you see his blood lined eyes.

Steb jerks forwards. Bruisingly, the gun slams into your skull. “Move and their brains go BOOM! Hands in the air. Now.” He snarls, and Steb freezes in place, slowly raising his hands. You can see him breathing, hard, heaving breaths.

More people clamour their way out of vents, behind slabs of wood. You count at least four. Shit.

Shit.

This is bad.

“Woah! Talk about dramatics, huh?” You start, and almost in shock, the man holding you to himself grip loosens. From Steb’s place, you can see the wrinkle that lines his mouth when he gets stressed creep into existence. (That’s normal to remember. You should know when your coworkers get stressed. Part of the job, and all.) He slowly shakes his head. You mouth, trust me. He shakes his head harder. “Maybe we should talk this out? Civilly, tea and biscuits? …No?”

“It stopped being civil when you went for one of mine.”

Of course that guy you beat the shit out of gave you the location of an ambush. He was all too eager to speak, and when you go poking your hand down foxholes, it’s going to get bitten off. You feel both incredibly stupid and incredibly self-satisfied, you knew it, and you went here anyways.

“One of yours? I mean, we probably didn’t mean to? It was probably a mistake—” he shoves the gun down your throat. Spittle drips down the barrel. You taste dirt and gunpowder. You taste the blood leaking from your tongue.

You taste fear.

“Well? Your bag.” He gestures loosely to Steb.

Steb locks eyes with you as he gently tugs the straps off of his back, letting the hefty bag land to the floor with a thump. Carefully, he steps back, raising his hands in the air once again.

One of the hovering goons quickly snatches it, tugging it open. Medical supplies, bottles, all-the-like clatter the ground, but she continues shifting through hastily, eyes slowly narrowing. The last of our food supplies…, you mournfully think, quickly followed by Caitlyn is going to kill us, and she’s probably right to.

“You told us there would be hex tech, you fucking liar.” She drops the bag carelessly, starting towards the man holding you. “Well, do you think I’m some sort of prophet? You knew that it was an estimate.” He snaps back, grip on you loosening, the gun shifting out of your mouth to point towards the soft flesh of your cheek, spreading out your blood clouded spit as it does.

“I think you set us the hell up. You promised we’d split the money, but where’s the money now, huh? I gotta family to feed, hired work is dropping like flies with the chem barons at each other’s throats, which means I missed on any number of begging clients for this shit.”

You get an idea.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

It’s a terrible idea.

Steb tears his gaze from the arguing pair to meet your eyes, perhaps on some precognition of the mistake you are about to make.

You wink, grab the gun pressed to your cheek and then you yank.

It comes as cleanly as expected, the man’s adrenaline rattled, drug loosened reflexes nothing for the shock you give him when you take the gun from his hands, and than run. Surprise gives you the upper hand, yells clouding your soundscape. You still manage to pick out Steb’s footsteps, clean and even behind you as you barrel down the nearest pipe.

You run harder than you’ve ever run, past graffiti, with only your breath, the calls behind you, your heartbeat and the echoes of his and your boots slamming against metal to guide you.

You turn the corner so hard you slam your side against it, feeling your already bruised cheek cry out in pain in time with your yelp, and you stumble. Steb catches your shirt and yanks you right back up, and then you’re in another wide-open space.

Your head swings around, fear hammering around your ribcage like a desperate songbird.

Steb grabs your shoulder, gesturing with his head. You follow his gaze. There’s a smaller pipe in the wall, covered by a draping of torn fabric, and you rush towards it before you have any time to think, the fabric draping over your hair, the surface cool under your fingers.

He follows, your pursuer yells barrelling into your ears as the curtain draws shut.

The space is tight, circular, not even big enough for you to stretch out an arm and not brush the opposite end. Your back is pressed flush against the concrete and plaster. Your legs cage Steb, as do his, looping over one each other, his knee bent at an angle that’s for sure going to hurt later. His arms clutch the walls of the tube, yours resting bent in your lap.

He leans down, and his fingers gently grasp that stupid beret of his and tug it down onto his lap, before he pulls his head back up, his head scraping the roof. He’s a least a head taller than Maddie, and although you’d like to think of yourself as average, you are now grateful for the height you lack.

“OVER HERE!” Did they see you? Is this it? What can you do, two against at least five or so. You mean, counting has never really been your strong suit under pressure, and who’s to tell? Are you going to die? Are you going to die, your legs pressed into his midriff?

The gold smattering across Steb’s undereyes and nose adjoins with the darker turquoise scales lining the cavities his eyeballs are strung into, carving out little gold, blue, orange stripes, like the ones on the fish you and your parents used to gawk at the aquariums had.

Are they going to cart out your body to your parents, after your fellow enforcers find you, crammed into a hole in the underground? What would you had died for?

His eyes are so blue.

He blinks, smooth, deep lapis overtaking the gleaming surface of his eyes before his eyelids do. He has a second eyelid. How did you never notice?

His lips, perpetually downturned as they are, his steady line his eyebrows carve themselves into, his perfect posture, even as you are cramped within the pipe, the smooth, angular frame of his cheekbones all of it make him look like one of those forever uninconvenienced paintings the councillors hang from their mansion walls. He looks calm. His stupid snooty resting face cannot fool you. You know he isn’t.

His lips are parted, the gap between his front teeth visible as he stares down the opening of the tunnel like a loyal family dog. His little giveaway.

Maybe his inner workings aren’t such a mystery, after all.

He makes you nervous. He makes you so nervous. He makes you into a wreck.

You think you might be in love with him.

—and your pursuers are rushing past you, all until you can’t hear their voices and you’re alive. You’re alive and you’ve never been so happy to tomorrow eat shitty Zaunite food and have Caitlyn yell at you for loosing supplies and talk and talk and talk until your throat is raw.

You don’t. Talk. You don’t talk.

He’s looking at you.

You feel like a fool.

You sit there, just looking at him too. His eyelids slip halfway, letting you count the short lashes that frame them. His expression relaxes, loosens, ever so slightly, his arms moving from the wall of the tunnel to his lap.

You could sit here with him for hours, death inches from you both, and you could be happy. You could be suspended in disbelief and plausible deniability; you could allow yourself to lie. Your heart is pounding from the adrenaline, of course. Your face is pink because of overexertion, and you kind of want to kiss him because you’ve never kissed anybody and you may as well as get it over with before you die, right?

He points to his face. You blink, and then he points to yours. You brush your finger cheeks against the flesh and feel the sting of injury, spittle and blood on your fingers. Right.

Right. He’s looking at you because you’re injured right?

Of course he is. (Disappoint is still food, and you swallow it.)

Gently, he reaches into his breast pocket, pulling out a handkerchief. Instead of sparring you and handing it to you, he merely carefully holds your head, one hand on your jaw and the other gently patting down the mess on your cheek. His head is tilted. You feel your heart slam up your throat, a throbbing, horrible pain that lets you part your lips to let the breath escape you before it can choke you.

The hand cradling your jaw moves a careful finger up to brush your lower lip.

Accident, of course. He’s not even looking at them, rather, the mess, taking his sweet time as he does, so very gentle.

You think he might be the danger, not the hell that is the pipework, nor the Grey, nor not the man with the gun

He pulls back, tucking the handkerchief back into the pocket and shallowly inclining his head towards the opening.

With a long look back at you, he crawls out of the hole first. You follow, dizzily. Ever the gentlemen, he offers you a hand as you push your way out of the hell that made you. You take it and feel incredibly guilty for doing so, stumbling to your feet.

He fastens his beret, usually a sign from you to inwardly (or outwardly) mock his silly hat, still watching you. You do not, in fact, mock him. You might be shaking, in fact, and that thought makes you hate yourself more than you could ever despise that ugly navy piece of fabric.

He frowns, and then he gestures to your mouth. You flinch without meaning too. “Huh?”

He mimes speaking, shallowly opening and then hastily closing his mouth

He's right to be concerned.

You haven’t spoken since you two trapped yourselves in the tunnel, after all.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝

Notes: Thank you for reading!! :)))) STUPID. IDIOTS IN LOVE. Him under the guise of medical assistance letting himself touch you... bro isn't slick whatsoever. If you have any ideas, be sure to drop them in my ask box, there is lack of fic on him holy hell. As a side note, we all need the comfort after season two part two holy cow…

#creative writing #steb arcane #steb #arcane #arcane season 2 #arcane season two spoilers #steb x reader

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l4ndonorizz · 4 months ago

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cooking stream gone wrong / lando norris x reader

pairing: lando norris x reader

song: disclosure - latch

summary: cooking stream is not something lando does often, but when he does it's worth it. and gossip is his middle name.

wc: 1.3k

“Alright, we’re live!” Lando grinned at the camera, adjusting his headset as you stood beside him in the kitchen, waving to his thousands of Twitch followers tuning in for what was supposed to be a simple, fun cooking stream.

“Say hi!” he nudged you with his elbow, a cheeky smile playing on his lips.

“Hi, everyone!” you laughed, feeling a little awkward but excited at the same time. Cooking was not your strong suit, but Lando had convinced you it would be fun—how hard could making pasta be?

“So, here’s the plan,” Lando started, turning back to the camera. “We’re going to make...well, attempt to make some pasta. Easy, right? We’ve got everything set up, and—”

“And by ‘set up,’ you mean we threw everything onto the counter and hoped for the best,” you interrupted, earning a laugh from Lando as the chat started flooding with comments.

"Lando can’t even boil water."

"This is going to be a disaster, isn’t it?"

"Who’s the better cook?"

Lando squinted at the screen, reading the comments. “Who’s the better cook? Honestly, neither of us, but I think I’ve got this. Easy win,” he said, confidently reaching for the flour to start mixing the dough.

“Sure, sure,” you teased, rolling your eyes. “Let’s see how that confidence holds up when we burn your kitchen.”

As you both got to work, the chaos started almost immediately. Lando spilled flour all over the counter while trying to measure it, and you couldn’t stop laughing as he attempted to save it by brushing the mess into a pile.

“Mate, I’m a racing driver, not a chef!” he exclaimed, looking at the camera as if that excused the growing disaster in front of him. The chat was already spamming laughing emojis.

“And yet, here we are,” you said, reaching for the eggs. “Okay, let’s at least try to make the dough...not a total failure.”

A few minutes later, you both had something that vaguely resembled dough, though it was sticking to your hands and the countertop. You exchanged glances, trying not to burst out laughing.

“This...doesn’t feel right,” you said, holding up your sticky hands.

Lando shook his head, grinning as he swiped some flour from the counter and smeared it across your cheek. “You’re doing great.”

You laughed, pushing him away playfully. “Seriously? You’re just making it worse!”

The chat exploded with more comments.

"What’s happening here?"

"This stream is pure chaos."

"They are so bad at this!"

“Alright, alright, let’s focus. We’re gonna make this work,” Lando said, trying to regain control of the situation. “We just need to roll it out, right?”

You nodded, grabbing the rolling pin. But, in true chaotic fashion, you accidentally knocked over the bag of flour, sending a cloud of white powder into the air. Both of you froze for a moment, staring at the mess before bursting into uncontrollable laughter.

“Okay, this is an absolute disaster,” you managed to say between laughs, wiping the flour from your face.

“Disaster? Nah, this is quality content,” Lando grinned, gesturing to the camera as he brushed the flour off his shirt. “Everyone loves a bit of chaos.”

The chat seemed to agree, with viewers sending donations and spamming messages about how this was the funniest stream they’d seen in a while.

With the dough finally rolled out (though not exactly perfectly), you both moved on to boiling the water. Lando confidently set the pot on the stove, turning up the heat.

“See? Easy,” he said, wiping his hands on a towel. “We’ve totally got this.”

“Don’t jinx it,” you warned, but the damage was already done.

Just a few minutes later, the water started boiling over, steam rising from the pot. Lando scrambled to turn down the heat while you frantically grabbed a towel to clean up the mess.

“I said don’t jinx it!” you laughed, trying to keep the chaos under control.

“Okay, okay, I might’ve messed that one up,” Lando admitted, wiping his forehead dramatically for the camera. “But we’re still going strong!”

As the chaos in the kitchen continued, you both got more and more caught up in the moment. Between the flour, the boiling water, and the laughter, it was easy to forget about the camera still rolling. The playful banter between you and Lando became more flirtatious as the minutes passed, and you couldn’t help but notice how close you were standing to each other now.

Lando leaned in, a grin on his face as he pretended to offer you a bite of the pasta that had somehow ended up slightly burnt. “Care for a taste, chef?”

You laughed, leaning back against the counter. “Oh, I’ll pass. Looks like you’re trying to poison me.”

But instead of pulling away, Lando stayed close, his hand resting gently on your waist. The playful energy shifted, and suddenly, the laughter faded, replaced by an unfamiliar tension. His eyes stayed on yours, the teasing glint in them softening as the air between you thickened.

You felt your pulse quicken, your heart racing in your chest. "Lando..." you started, unsure if you should break the moment or let it take its course.

He didn’t answer. Instead, his gaze dropped to your lips, and before you could even process it, his hand slid up your side, pulling you closer. His lips found yours, softly at first, as if testing the waters, but then something shifted, and the kiss deepened with an urgency neither of you had anticipated.

Your hands moved instinctively to his chest, your fingers curling into his shirt as you kissed him back, completely caught up in the moment. Everything else faded away—the kitchen, the mess, the stream. It was just you and Lando, lost in a kiss that felt far more intense than anything you’d ever shared before.

His hand slid from your waist to the small of your back, pulling you flush against him as the kiss grew hungrier, more desperate. You could feel the counter digging into your back, but you didn’t care. All that mattered was the warmth of his body against yours, the way his lips moved over yours, the way your heart raced uncontrollably in your chest.

Then suddenly, the shrill sound of a phone ringing pierced through the haze.

You both froze, your lips still inches apart, breathing heavily as reality crashed back into the room. Lando’s phone continued ringing, and you blinked in confusion, your mind scrambling to catch up with what had just happened.

Lando reached for his phone, glancing at the screen with wide eyes. “It’s Max,” he muttered, his voice hoarse.

Lando answered the call with trembling fingers. “Uh...hey, Max.”

“Bro,” Max’s voice came through the speaker, half-amused, half-panicked. “Are you guys seriously still streaming? Because, uh...you’re about two seconds away from getting banned for...whatever the hell you were just doing on that counter.”

Lando’s eyes widened in horror as he glanced at the camera, finally realizing that the chat was still going crazy. His hand shot out to shut off the stream, but it was too late. The damage was done.

You stood there in stunned silence, your face burning with embarrassment as you covered your mouth with your hand. How could you have forgotten about the stream?

“Well,” Lando finally said, breaking the silence after what felt like an eternity. “That...happened.”

You let out a nervous laugh, still feeling the lingering heat from the kiss. “Yeah. That definitely happened.”

Lando ran a hand through his hair, clearly still trying to process everything. He looked at you, his expression a mix of embarrassment and something else—something unspoken.

Before either of you could say anything more, he reached for your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “I guess...we’re going to have some explaining to do, huh?”

You nodded, still breathless from the chaos of the last few minutes. “Yeah. But...I don’t regret it.”

Lando grinned, a hint of that familiar mischievous spark returning. “Neither do I.”

#f1 #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 one shot #formula 1 #lando imagine #lando norris #lando norris one shot #lando x reader #Spotify

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lichenes · 2 months ago

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I heard you were begging for Silco asks and I will take literally anything.

Jealous Silco or Jealous Reader (bonus points if Silco doesn't notice that someone is hitting on him)

I also feel like Silco would be an amazing dance partner/classical waltz style or some intimate partner dance but would only ever do it in private.

Silco with a reader who is maternal with Jinx ❤️

Smut or fluff, whatever you feel like writing I just want to treat that man right 👍

To all the anons that requested Silco i will be getting on that soon!! Now I present to you: Silco looking for a mum for Jinx, any takers?

This gif has such a fucking GRIP on me it's driving me insane. How can pixels be SO F I N E. Anyway per your request anon this is Silco x reader x (kinda) platonic!Jinx :D!! SILCO DESERVES SO MUCH LOVEEEE. I don't care if he commited like... actual war crimes, what does AIR mean to my LUNGS. CW: brief cursing!! not much besides that, pretty tame, kinda ooc.... sorri... wc: 1261 . * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚ . * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚. * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚. * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚. * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚

The Zaunite air was filled with an unrelenting heaviness. Each day, despite Silcos best efforts, the food was getting scarcer and people were more and more scared. It wasn’t ever too much. He could handle it no doubt. Right?

Jinx was sitting on his desk and talking his ear off.

She was enjoying her time with him while Silco was quietly taking care of some documents. Spending time together with Jinx was one of the few things he enjoyed in life. Sure, his unique appearance made many women drawn to him and most people in Zaun felt nothing but respect for the man but he never developed anything meaningful, anything… tangible. Aside from Jinx he had no one.

The stream of words being let out of Jinx at, at least, 200 words per minute stopped when there was a knock at the door. “Come in.” Said Silco with his usual sombre tone. He always filled the room with a certain coldness few were able to tolerate or enjoy, for that matter. Sevika entered the room. “Someone wants to talk to you.”

He nodded, giving her permission to let them in.

During the conversation with whoever was sitting on the other side of the desk Jinx kept returning to the thought that brushed by her mind that morning. Shouldn’t someone as undoing as a daughter have a mother by her side? Jinx was good. Good at what she did, good at killing and even better at creation. She lacked the maternal hand that was supposed to lead her through life even if she wasn’t exactly aware of what she was looking for she needed someone to guide her through her life.

On the other hand, Silco, the effective ruler of Zaun, didn’t have anyone to share the parental burdens of life with. The swooning crowd of power-hungry women in the city weren’t a good choice for a mother. Not for someone as unpredictable as Jinx.

Jinx was convinced you fell from heaven for her, how could he not see it? A godsend perfect for what she needed.

The Last Drop was busy. People talking, the air stuffy with Zaunite tensions, dilemmas and the smoke being extruded out of the lungs of many. He noticed you before, an everyday woman, providing her parents with whatever they needed in their old age. He didn’t do many of the job interviews himself, his lesser henchmen took care of that, but the barkeep of The Last Drop was the person he came to care for.

“You’re hired.” He said at the end of your chat.

You were used to people chatting you up while you were behind the bar, an additional drink, boredom or true infatuation were all at play here. Never… this. “What can I get you?” You said when someone took the only free stool at the bar. When they didn’t answer you so you turned around to check them out. If they were a danger to the well being of the people inside or the bar itself you’d rather they threatened the guards than you.

What transpired was truly bizarre. You expected to see anyone here, Sevika in a foul mood, Jinx with a gun to your head or even one of the lesser lackeys of the many people running this city. Silco? Silco was last on your list.

You froze in place almost dropping the pint you were holding. Quickly you put it on the counter in front of the person who ordered it and turned your attention to him. He looked at you with an unusual intent, normally when you’d look over to his usual spot he’d be smoking and surveying the room with his ice-cold vision, today there was… need.

You were stuck in place not being able to even utter a word in such presence. After a moment more of scaring you into an early grave he spoke. “Come to the back, someone will take your place for tonight.” Suddenly terror turned into anxiety. “Am I being replaced?” He only stood up and went around the bar to presumably accompany you there.

Your heart was pounding and your hands were sweaty, this could be your execution you realised. Your mind was going a million miles a minute, combing through all your wrongdoings and if you were eligible for any pardon.

He didn’t enjoy that scared expression on your face, he enjoyed them on most people with exception to Jinx and well… you. “Nothing to be afraid of, lady.” Said Jinx toying with her gun. That definitely didn’t mitigate your concerns. “She’s right.” Said Silco somehow appearing behind you. You jumped at his sudden intrusion into your personal space.

Explaining what they wanted was certainly difficult. You had a lot of questions regarding your new position as a… babysitter for Jinx? You’d never say that out loud for fear of swift death. The payment was lucrative as well so you decided on accepting the offer. At the end of the talk you were more or less familiarised with what this job entailed, along with being a co-parent to Silco, you were to be on their beck and call, still you retained the position of the barkeep.

As all people you were a bit afraid of Jinx. Looking at her she was inconspicuous, the braids giving her a child-like wonder look to her. Underneath you could feel a profound sadness sitting inside of her and you were determined to make this weird little fucked up family a happy one at least.

You were happy to tend to wounds, look after The Last Drop when needed and listen to Jinx talk for hours. With time, Silco grew fond of you. Your mannerisms of a caring and doting parental figure, despite all which burdened you, would soon make him swoon.

One night after closing when you were wiping down tables Silco walked in, in an unusually good mood. He leaned on one of the clean tables. “Hello. How was your day?” You asked mindlessly, not noticing him inching closer and closer to your figure. Nobody else was in the room when it all happened.

You weren’t the best at concealing your growing affection towards Silco. The longing stares weren’t doing you any good and the fact that somehow he kept catching you was even worse. You were sure your position was soon to be terminated.

He spun you around and caged your body between his own. His breath was warm and falling just over your chest. “Silco?” You dared.

“You make me sick with worry sometimes.” He was… smiling? Silco was smiling? You couldn’t make anything out, your head was spinning from the proximity and his cologne. “Look at me.” He demanded grabbing your chin and tilting it upwards. “I’ve got a question.” You nodded. “Do you want to dance?” You were stunned.

The tables were moved to the sides as Silco put a few coins into the jukebox and began striding towards you with the delicacy and grace of a cat. You put your arm on his shoulder and grasped his other one. He led you around the room to the song being played and amidst the growing tension, brought his lips to yours, hesitantly. The kiss was magical, you could feel yourself rising above the roof when he finally closed the gap. You reciprocated the kiss and as the song faded away he put his hands on your cheeks trying to get as close to you as possible.

He thought he’d lost the spark and now, here you were.

. * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚ . * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚. * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚. * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚. * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚ masterlist

#x reader #fluff #writing #silco #silco x reader #arcane silco #silco and jinx #silco x reader x platonic!jinx

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wolvwa · 5 months ago

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Streamer au Izuku playing dress to impress.

It's cannon.

fem reader (.❛ ᴗ ❛.)

Sometimes, he begs you to play with him.

"Girl you are not eating.."

"You don't even have skin yet be real."

"Thank you for the five gifted, Deku's....!"

You don't let him finish reading that, and he's very grateful. Overall, his chat is normal, and you two are clipped everywhere on tiktok. Especially when he screams out rigged (and it very much is.)

"Chat we are getting podium today!"

"Dont jinx it baby, please."

He did jinx it.

"Get off of our stage right now girl you did not even touch the plate."

CLIPPPPEEDDDD!!!!

He doesn't spam pose, he has all his posed favorited in order and syncs with you.

When you two finally do get podium, he's cheering and very quickly running off screen to hug you. That's clipped, too. It's either a ship edit or an edit starting with him going "TOLD YALL WE SLAYEDDD!!"

You two make Ochako or Katsuki join you sometimes.

Katsuki is surprisingly good and gets podium almost every time. He thinks it's rigged when he doesn't which makes for a loud ass fucking stream. If it's the same theme he's done, he is not doing the same fit.

Ochako is more calm on the other hand.

"Aw.. you all did great, ggs!" The ggs is a little forced with the people who didn't even try..

I think she's more prone to getting 4th and 3rd place😭

Katsuki is so aggressive reading chat everybody loves him. Show him and edit and he's staring at the screen like.

'...what'

And

'DAMN RIGHT I SERVED CUNT!'

Don't get me started on horror games with these bitches. Most insane sleepover trio.

Everyone's screaming for different reasons. Izuku is floating cause Ochako accidently touched him when she accidentally floated her phone. Bakugou isn't scared, he's just mad you're all being babies. And that you went to try getting Izuku down after sitting to him the whole time.

After stream, Izuku is happily enjoying sleep over time with you all. Katsuki takes over his bed, and you decide to take over his takeover. To which you two have a screaming match. Ochako is fine with her little floor bed while Izuku is panicking on where to sleep.

Would Kaachan really let him sleep in the same bed?

Yes

Katsuki makes Izuku sleep at the bottom

"It's my bed...but okay😒"

You made Ochako join so you two are cuddled against the wall while you hold hands with Izuku from your new long distance relationship 💔

Katsuki grumbles to himself about letting you idiot keep him up so lage and presses his back against yours. He's very warm so you have absolutely no complaints.

Izuku very much does, though.

#—wolfarambles #wolfa.txt #bnha x reader #bnha #mha izuku #izuku midoriya #streamer au #sassy man apocalypse #platonic or romantic #bakudeku x reader #?#izuocha #???

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sadnessrainbow1 · 4 months ago

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Game

͙͘͡★

This girl went so deep, it felt like you couldn’t take it much longer. Jinx loved to play with you, especially when you were tied up, panting, your panties soaked, whimpering while trying to hold back your moans and other details. The game this time? You had to keep quiet, or she'd stop. You got the message loud and clear, but it was so hard... so damn hard when she was doing everything to make you fall apart and give in.

"You're not very good at this game..." Jinx teased, even though she wasn’t the one who had to keep it together. After all, she was in control.

You were about to respond but hesitated for a second before finally saying, "...It-it’s easy for you to say from there."

The more you held back, the more Jinx pushed forward. One thing she loved about this game? Your sweet tears of pleasure, your cute little whining — God, it was all so adorable to her. So she played her final card, thanks to an idea you gave her. You hadn't made a noise yet — no moans, at least — but no one said Jinx had to keep a steady pace. So, she slowed her fingers down and then, with a wicked grin, slid her two soaked fingers inside you for your entry.

That was enough to make your hips buck, chasing after more, even though you knew the more intense it got, the harder it'd be to keep quiet. Your thighs trembled with the effort of trying to hold back. But when Jinx realized what you were doing — pushing the boundaries she'd set — she smacked your left thigh, hard enough to sting but so good... so good that you finally let out a delicious moan, like music to her ears.

But your bliss didn’t last long. True to her word, Jinx pulled her fingers away.

“No!” You would've done something if you weren’t tied up... Damn it! Does she think of every little detail before torturing you like this? Now here you are, tied up, dripping, your pussy practically begging for it.

“Haha... you couldn’t hold it in...” Jinx grinned, but she wasn’t done yet. As she watched you, trembling, with tears streaming down your face, she couldn't help but find you unbearably cute. So she leaned in and gave you a soft kiss on the cheek, a little reward for being her precious toy.

But she was far from finished. The next game would be even harder... are you ready?

☆

Wc: 423

Small thing,but I hope u enjoyed this!

#arcane #jinx arcane #fanfic #lesbian #imagine arcane #x reader #jinx × fem!reader #jinx league of legends #jinx #jinx smut

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jhyoos · 15 days ago

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Dreams Come True

Chapter 2: Ain’t It Funny?

modern au! hockey star! vi x idol! reader

summary: reader finally debuts and so does vi’s hockey career.

notes: thank you everyone for the likes on chapter 1! im forever grateful! your debut song is eung eung by apink

chapters: one, two, christmas special, three, four, five

The sunlight streaming through the floor-to-the ceiling windows of the practice room caught the streaks of your newly dyed and styled hair. You barely noticed, too focused on the beat of the music echoing through the room. Your movements sharp, deliberate, a reflection of the countless hours you’d poured into perfecting every detail of the choreography.

It’s been a year since Vi broke up with you and your debut was a few weeks away. The past year has been nothing but training, practicing, filming the music video and singing in the studio. You loved every second of it especially since you’ve got to spent it with Mel, who was now your roommate.

Everything about you had changed

Your hair, now a honey blonde to match with your girl group concept, but you loved it. It matched you perfectly and the way the stylist styled it made you love it even more.

The shy yet unsure trainee from a year ago was gone, replaced with someone confident, determined, and unyielding.

“(Y/N), let’s take a break,” Mel called, tossing you a water bottle. You caught it and sank onto the floor, leaning against the mirrored wall. Mel plopped down beside you, just as sweaty but somehow still composed.

“You’re gonna kill it,” Mel said, nudging your shoulder. “We all are. This group wouldn’t be the same without you.”

You gave a small smile, though your thoughts wandered. Over the past year, you’ve thrown yourself into work, and it had paid off. You’d managed to finish your senior year online, earning your diploma in the midst of grueling rehearsals.

But the cost had been steep. You haven’t spoken to Vi since the night of your fight. You cut ties completely, deleting Vi’s number, ignoring her messages, and avoiding the hockey rink on campus like the black plague. The one exception was her little sister, Jinx.

You and Jinx had stayed in touch, her chaotic energy and blunt humor was a strange comfort to you during the hardest days.

Vi’s knuckles tightened around the edge of the rink’s barrier as the shrill sound of coach’s whistle echoed through the air. The icy chill of the arena bit at her cheeks, but she barely noticed. Hockey had always been her escape, her channeling every emotion she didn’t have the words to express. This past year, it became her lifeline.

Her rise to fame was meteoric. Every game she played brought her closer to being a national icon. Sport channels ran highlight reels of her devastating slap shots and lightening fast reflexes. Articles praised her for her aggressive, no-nonsense playing style, calling her a future legend. Fans chanted her name at every match, holding up signs with slogans like “Vi the Viper”

But beneath all the accolades and the roaring crowd, Vi was suffocating.

Off the ice, her life was a stark contrast to the glory of the rink. She had shut herself off from almost everyone, retreating behind a wall of icy indifference. Ellie, her team captain, noticed it first.

“Vi you’re late again dude,” Ellie said one afternoon after practice, her tone exasperated.

Vi shrugged, tossing her gear into her locker. “What the big deal? I’m here aren’t I?”

“The big deal,” Ellie said sharply “Is that you’re not yourself. You’re snapping at everyone, skipping team meetings to fuck bitches, and whatever else you’re doing…it’s affecting the team and you clearly”

Vi didn’t answer. What could she say? She didn’t have the energy to explain the gnawing emptiness that had settled in her chest since she walked away from (Y/N).

She threw herself into hockey and nothing else . Relationships? She didn’t do those anymore. They were messy too much effort. Instead she indulged herself in the occasional fan hookups—fleeting, physical distractions with no strings attached.

The backstage area buzzed with frantic energy. Stylist and coordinators darted around, fixing last minute touches on hair, makeup and outfits. You sat in front of a massive mirror, your heart pounding as you stared at your reflection. Your shimmering gold and white stage outfit fit you perfectly, the intricate details catching the glow of the lights above.

You hair was curled into bombshell curls. It was a far cry from how you used to wear it, but it fit you so much. It fit the new version of yourself you had fought so hard to become.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, her hands gripping the edge of the vanity. “You’ve got this,” you whispered to yourself. “You’ve waiting for this moment your whole life.”

A ping broke through your thoughts, and you glanced at your phone. It was a message from Jinx.

Tinker ⚙️💙: I managed to get tickets! I can’t wait to see you!

A smile appeared on your face as you looked at the message. Before you could respond, your manager, Steb, opened the door to your group’s dressing room.

“It’s time. Let’s get it!”

You stood at your cue, beside your group members. Each member was a picture of poise, yet the air buzzed with nervous energy. You had all practiced for this moment relentlessly, and now it was finally here—your debut showcase.

You smoothed down your outfit, your fingers trembling slightly. You had never felt so ready, yet so terrified. You stole a glance at Mel, who was adjusting her mic and grinning like this was just another practice session. “You okay,” Mel asked, nudging you gently.

“I think I’m about to throw up,” you admitted with a shaky laugh.

Mel snorted “Don’t you dare. Not in these outfits. You’re gonna be amazing.”

Right on cue, the lights dimmed, the massive LED screens lit up with the group’s logo, and a promotional teaser video played, showcasing their intense training and concept behind their debut.

You stood offstage with your group, your heart hammering in your chest as the intro to your group song began. You looked at your members and nodded, each of them silently reassuring the other. Together you all stepped into the spotlight, the stage exploding with sound.

The music started, and you moved effortlessly into position with your group, your heart racing but your movements steady. The debut stage was every bit of dazzling as you imagined: the flashing spotlights, the booming bass that seemed to shake the air, and the sea of glowing lights from fans cheering for them.

Your voice cut through the instrumental, smooth and powerful as you sang the first verse. Your dance steps were sharp yet fluid, your stage presence magnetic. You waited your whole life, and nothing could break your focus.

Until your eyes scanned the crowd.

In the middle of the second verse, you just got done with your line, staring into the camera. But out of curiosity, you looked down at the front row, your eyes naturally drawn to Jinx’s bright excitable movements. You smiled briefly before turning your gaze to the rest of the audience. That’s when you froze for the briefest of moments.

There, beside Jinx, hidden beneath a hoodie and cap was her.

Vi.

taglist : @lilttblog @alex-thegiraffeboyy @tobiotruther @krilara @snowbunnyboo @veladeangl @kl1q @maruiin

#vi fanfic #arcane season one #arcane fandom #vi arcane #singer #idol #x reader #vi headcanons #arcane fanfic #arcane #lesbians #bisexual #mel merdada #jinx arcane #jinx #vi and jinx

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playboysaleen · 1 month ago

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Through Ash and Iron (11)

Jinx x Reader x Caitlyn

Summary: Through Ash and Iron plunges you into the heart of Piltover’s gritty streets, where you’ve always felt the weight of your family’s failures. Rejected from the Junior Enforcer Program, your anger burns brighter than ever—until one fateful punch changes everything. The eyes of Piltover’s elite may look down on you, but it’s the wild eyes of Jinx that truly see you. She’s chaos personified, and you’re drawn to the destruction she promises. But that’s not all. Caitlyn Kiramman, a poised enforcer with a soft spot for rebels like you, offers you a chance to rewrite your future—if you can control the rage you can’t seem to escape.Torn between the order Caitlyn represents and the dangerous freedom Jinx offers, you stand at the crossroads of two worlds. As your power grows, so does the tension between these two women. One promises a chance at belonging, while the other ignites a fire you didn’t know you had. But the choices you make will change everything—not just for you, but for both cities teetering on the edge of war. Who will you choose? And how much of yourself will you lose along the way?

Warnings: Violence duh, gay panic(lol), cursing, all that jazz (whatever you seen in Arcane is what you gon see here)This is also a slight AU.(She/her)

Word Count: 5.6k

and again i will say this...hear me out...let me cook. (I am posting this with frozen fingers cause our store heater broke :) )

___________________________

The Piltover Council room was an architectural marvel, a grand chamber of marble and gold, with light streaming in through towering stained-glass windows. At the center, an expansive circular table gleamed under the crystalline chandelier, each seat occupied by the most influential figures of Piltover. The air was thick with tension, the conversation barely civil as Mel Medarda stood at the head of the table, poised like a queen about to decree judgment.

Her golden eyes scanned the room as she began to call the meeting to order. “We are here to discuss the matter of dismantling the border between Piltover and Zaun,” she said, her voice carrying authority. “The stakes of such a treaty cannot be overstated. Let us begin—”

Before she could finish, the grand doors creaked open with a resonant groan. Every head turned.

Jinx strode in, her boots echoing against the polished floor. Gasps rippled through the council as her striking presence filled the room. She was an enigma of grace and rebellion, her ensemble a seamless fusion of Zaun’s industrial grit and a rare elegance that caught everyone off guard. The vivid colors of her outfit contrasted against the muted tones of the chamber, her expression one of mischievous confidence.

The murmurs grew louder, some whispers of shock, others of disdain. Mel’s eyes narrowed, her composure faltering for just a moment.

“You’re not welcome here,” Mel said, her tone sharp and dismissive.

Jinx tilted her head, feigning offense as she strolled to the table. “Really? And here I thought this was about unity.” She smirked, her piercing violet eyes flicking toward Caitlyn.

Caitlyn stepped forward, her voice calm yet commanding. “She has as much right to be here as anyone else. Let her sit.”

Mel hesitated, her lips pressing into a thin line, but she said nothing further. Jinx took her seat, a self-satisfied grin on her face as she leaned back, surveying the room with an almost playful disdain.

The meeting resumed, and discussions of the border treaty quickly became heated. Voices clashed, fingers pointed, and accusations flew. The council was splintered, their deep-seated mistrust of Zaun evident in every biting remark.

Suddenly, the doors opened again. This time, the room fell silent.

A shadowed figure entered, draped in a hooded cloak. You walked with quiet confidence, your footsteps deliberate as the light from the windows played against your form. The tension in the room grew palpable, the whispers beginning anew as the council tried to decipher who you were.

You reached the table, pausing for a moment before lowering your hood.

Gasps rippled through the chamber as your face was revealed. Caitlyn’s breath caught, her heart skipping a beat. She hadn’t expected to see you here, not like this. Her shock was mirrored by the other council members, their expressions a mixture of awe and wariness.

“I am here,” you began, your voice steady and commanding, “on behalf of Zaun. To discuss the peace treaty.”

You moved to the empty seat beside Jinx, who gave you a sly grin and a playful nudge. “Took you long enough,” she whispered.

The debates continued, but now the room was charged with a different energy. Your presence altered the dynamic entirely. Questions were hurled your way, some probing, others thinly veiled insults toward Zaun’s worthiness of such a treaty.

“Why should we trust Zaun?” one councilman sneered, leaning forward with narrowed eyes. “What guarantees do we have that this isn’t just a ploy?”

You met his gaze with unwavering calm. “The same guarantees Piltover offers us—none. Trust is built, not given freely. But if we don’t start somewhere, we will remain locked in this cycle of isolation and conflict. Is that what you want for the next generation?”

The room fell silent, the councilman leaning back in his chair, visibly chastened.

You outlined the plan with precision, proposing a small checkpoint as the first step. A shared space where the two cities could begin to collaborate. Zaun would supply its rich natural resources to fuel Piltover’s technological advancements, while Piltover would provide desperately needed medical care to Zaun’s vulnerable populations.

Jinx joined the discussion, her voice sharp and unyielding. “If we’re doing this, I want curfews,” she said, leaning forward. “Both cities. Everyone goes back to their side by a set time. No excuses, no exceptions.”

Her proposal was met with murmurs of agreement, though some were clearly reluctant.

Caitlyn watched the exchange in silence, her gaze fixed on you. She’d seen you fight, seen your resilience, but this—this was something else entirely. The way you commanded the room, your words cutting through decades of prejudice and fear, left her breathless.

But she wasn’t the only one watching you closely. Mel’s sharp eyes followed your every move, her lips curving into a faint, intrigued smile. Her questions grew pointed, testing your resolve, but you answered each one with a calm authority that only seemed to heighten her interest.

Jinx noticed it too, her fingers drumming on the table in a rhythmic beat that betrayed her irritation.

When the time came for a final decision, the council turned to Caitlyn. She stood, her voice steady and clear as she addressed the room.

“I support this treaty,” she said. “It is a necessary step toward a future where both cities can thrive. We owe it to our people to try.”

The vote was called. Eight in favor, two against. The motion passed.

A wave of murmurs swept through the room as the weight of the decision settled in.

You leaned back in your chair, exchanging a proud smile with Jinx. But when your gaze met Caitlyn’s, something unspoken passed between you—a warmth, a pride that reached deep into your soul.

Mel rose, her voice cutting through the noise. “The council has spoken. The first phase of the treaty will begin tomorrow morning.”

As the meeting adjourned, you lingered for a moment, savoring the quiet victory. But as you glanced around the room, you couldn’t shake the sense that this was only the beginning of a much larger battle.

The sprawling courtyard at the base of Piltover Tower buzzed with life. Citizens milled about, some curious, others cautious, their eyes darting to you as you stood on the grand staircase. The sunlight glinted off the ornate carvings of the tower, casting long shadows across the cobblestones. You greeted those who approached with a soft smile, exchanging brief words of acknowledgment.

Below the stairs, Jinx leaned against a lamppost, animatedly chatting with Sevika, who occasionally smirked but mostly kept her arms crossed in a guarded stance. Their contrasting energy was almost amusing. Your eyes flicked to Caitlyn, stationed on the other side of the courtyard, speaking with a cluster of council members. Her poise was unmistakable, her movements measured and deliberate as she gestured, likely explaining details of the treaty.

You turned back to the crowd, your expression calm, but you felt a presence settle beside you. You didn’t need to look to know who it was. The faint scent of exotic spices and the barely audible rustle of luxurious fabric gave her away.

“Quite the spectacle,” Mel Medarda said, her voice a melodic hum laced with intrigue.

You offered her a glance, then returned your gaze to the courtyard. “Change always draws attention,” you replied, your tone neutral.

Mel chuckled softly. “And you, my enigmatic Zaunite, seem to attract it without even trying.” She paused, her golden eyes studying your profile. “Tell me, what brought you here? Truly?”

You hesitated, then answered honestly. “The people. Zaun and Piltover both. They’ve suffered long enough under the weight of our division. If I can help bridge that gap, even a little, then it’s worth it.”

Her head tilted slightly, her interest piqued. “You speak with such conviction. It’s refreshing.” She stepped closer, her voice dipping into something more intimate. “You know, you could achieve so much more than peace. Power, influence—things most can only dream of. I could help you get there.”

You turned to face her fully now, your eyes narrowing slightly. “Power doesn’t interest me,” you said evenly.

Her lips curved into a sly smile. “Perhaps it should. Caitlyn, for instance, is... a handful, isn’t she? Always so upright, so focused. It must be exhausting.”

You held her gaze, your voice steady but firm. “Caitlyn is one of the most capable, compassionate people I’ve ever met. She isn’t a handful—she’s a partner.”

Mel raised an eyebrow, her expression unreadable, though a faint flicker of amusement danced in her eyes. “How noble.”

She took a deliberate step closer, her golden gown catching the light as her hand brushed against yours. Her fingers curled around yours, soft but assertive. She met your gaze, her voice dropping to a near whisper. “You could have so much more than peace.”

The closeness drew attention immediately. From the corner of your eye, you saw Jinx’s head snap up from her conversation with Sevika. Her body tensed, and her vibrant violet eyes darkened with a jealousy she made no effort to hide. Across the courtyard, Caitlyn caught the interaction too, her brow furrowing as she excused herself from the council members.

Mel leaned in slightly, her golden eyes holding yours with a smoldering intensity. But before she could speak another word, both Jinx and Caitlyn were at your side.

Jinx was the first to break the silence, her tone sharp and sarcastic. “Well, isn’t this cozy? Didn’t know we were having a date on Piltover’s dime.”

Caitlyn, ever composed, crossed her arms as her piercing blue gaze locked onto Mel. Her voice was cool but carried an undeniable edge. “You seem to have a knack for overstepping boundaries, Councilor.”

You remained calm, gently but firmly withdrawing your hand from Mel’s grasp. “I appreciate your... perspective, Mel,” you said, your tone measured. “But I’m not interested in power. I want peace. For both cities.”

Mel’s smile didn’t falter, though there was a flicker of something behind her eyes—disappointment, perhaps? She stepped back gracefully, her gaze sweeping over Jinx and Caitlyn with a faint smirk. “How very... noble of you,” she said, her tone dripping with mock admiration. “Well, I suppose I’ll leave you in such capable company. Until next time.”

As she turned to leave, she cast a final glance over her shoulder, her voice low and sultry. “You know where to find me, should you change your mind.”

Jinx muttered something under her breath, her hands clenched into fists. Caitlyn, on the other hand, maintained her composure but couldn’t resist a cutting remark. “She certainly knows how to make an exit,” she said dryly.

You chuckled softly, the tension easing as you looked between the two of them. “Jealous, are we?” you teased, your tone light.

Jinx scoffed, crossing her arms. “Jealous? Please. I just don’t trust her. She looks at you like you’re her next big art project.”

Caitlyn raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching into a faint smirk. “And you’re any different?”

Jinx shot her a glare, but you interrupted before they could escalate. “Relax, both of you,” you said, your voice warm. “I’m right here, aren’t I?”

Jinx muttered something else, but the tension had passed. Caitlyn’s gaze softened as she met yours, a small, genuine smile curving her lips. And as the three of you stood there, you couldn’t help but feel the strange, delicate balance between the two worlds you now navigated—and the two women who had become integral to your life.

The treaty had finally been set into motion, and for the first time in decades, the tension between Piltover and Zaun began to ease. The streets of both cities were alive with cautious optimism. Medical trucks emblazoned with Piltover’s crest rolled into Zaun, offering much-needed care for mothers, children, and the ill. At the same time, Zaun’s resource deliveries—raw materials, gasses, and minerals—crossed into Piltover’s borders, fueling their engineering marvels.

At one of the border checkpoints, a young Piltover engineer shook hands with a Zaunite mechanic after a successful exchange of goods. The handshake was tentative at first, but as they shared a genuine smile, the crowd gathered around them clapped in unison. It was a simple gesture, but its symbolism rippled far and wide.

Back in your rooftop apartment, a warm breeze flowed through the open balcony doors, carrying with it the faint hum of the city. You were sprawled on your bed, one knee bent as you leaned back against the headboard, a book balanced in your hands. The sunlight painted golden streaks across the room, and the sound of distant laughter from below reminded you why you had fought so hard for this peace.

Jinx had left earlier, claiming she needed to “handle” some Zaunites upset over the curfew restrictions. You’d laughed, seeing the determination in her eyes, and shooed her off with a teasing remark about keeping things intact for once. The quiet solitude that followed felt rare, almost foreign, but not unwelcome.

You turned a page, lost in the words, when a shadow fell across the doorway. Glancing up, you saw Caitlyn standing there, her form framed by the sunlight streaming in. She was dressed in her usual enforcer attire, but her hair was slightly disheveled, and there was something softer in her expression—a rare vulnerability.

You started to stand, setting the book aside. “Hey, Commander. To what do I owe this pleasure—”

Before you could finish, Caitlyn strode forward, her hands gently pushing you back onto the bed. You blinked in surprise as she climbed onto the mattress, straddling your waist with ease.

“Well, hello,” you said, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. “I don’t remember this being standard enforcer protocol.”

Caitlyn didn’t reply immediately. She just stared at you, her sapphire eyes filled with an intensity that made your teasing falter. Her hands came up to cradle your face as she leaned down, capturing your lips in a kiss that was both tender and insistent. You kissed her back, your hands instinctively settling on her hips.

When she pulled back, her gaze was unwavering. “I love you,” she said, her voice steady but soft.

You blinked, your mind racing. “Caitlyn, I—”

She placed a finger against your lips, silencing you. “You don’t have to say it,” she murmured, a small smile playing on her lips. “I know you do. I see it in everything you do—for me, for us. That’s enough for me.”

For a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. The weight of her confession and the certainty in her voice left you speechless. But then, a grin spread across your face, and you suddenly flipped her over, pinning her beneath you.

“Well,” you drawled, your tone playful, “if I don’t have to say it, then I guess I’ll just have to show it.”

Caitlyn arched an eyebrow, her laugh bubbling out as you began to tickle her sides. “No—stop—” she gasped between laughs, trying to squirm out of your grasp. “You—cheat—”

You chuckled, enjoying the rare sound of her unrestrained laughter as you continued your playful assault. “What was that, Commander? I couldn’t hear you over the sound of your surrender.”

She managed to shove at your shoulders, attempting to reverse the pin, but you held firm. “I am not surrendering,” she declared, though her laughter betrayed her.

Just as you were about to claim victory, a sharp knock at the door interrupted the moment. You paused, still hovering over Caitlyn, whose face was flushed from laughter. She took the opportunity to pull you down into another kiss, trying to distract you from answering.

“Nice try,” you said, laughing as you disentangled yourself.

She groaned dramatically, throwing an arm over her face. “You’re no fun.”

You grinned, ruffling her hair as you moved to the door. “I’ll be back, Commander. Don’t go anywhere.”

Opening the door, your smile faltered slightly when you saw Mel Medarda standing there, her usual composed and confident demeanor firmly in place. Her golden gown shimmered in the light, and her gaze swept over you with an unmistakable intensity.

“Well, isn’t this a surprise,” you said, leaning casually against the doorframe.

Mel’s lips curved into a smile, her voice smooth as silk. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything... important.”

Mel’s gaze swept over you as if she were appraising every detail, her smile as polished and poised as ever. “I actually came to extend an invitation,” she said, her tone smooth. “The Piltover Ball is next weekend, and it would be quite the statement to have you there. As my escort, perhaps?”

You blinked, surprised. That wasn’t what you had expected, and you opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, Caitlyn’s voice cut through the air behind you.

“Oh, how lovely,” Caitlyn said, stepping into view. Her smile was polite, but the way her hands slid along your arms and rested briefly on your stomach was anything but casual. “Mel.”

Mel’s golden eyes flicked down, watching Caitlyn’s fingers dance lightly over your torso before meeting her gaze again. Her smile didn’t waver, though something sharp gleamed in her expression. “Caitlyn,” she returned smoothly. “I see you’re well.”

“Very,” Caitlyn replied, her voice just a touch too sweet. “And I couldn’t imagine the Ball without all of us attending. Don’t you think so, darling?” Her hands lingered on you, her touch warm and possessive as she glanced up at you.

You tilted your head slightly, caught off guard. “All of us?”

Caitlyn’s smile widened. “Yes. You’ll accompany me, of course. And Jinx will be at my side as well.”

You raised a brow, the mental image of Caitlyn and Jinx at a formal Piltover event together throwing you for a loop. But before you could comment, Caitlyn’s fingers brushed against your side in an almost teasing gesture, and you found yourself nodding. “Sure. Why not?”

Mel’s smile faltered for the briefest of moments before she recovered, her voice as smooth as ever. “How... unconventional.”

“Oh, you have no idea,” Caitlyn murmured under her breath, just loud enough for you to hear.

Mel continued, her composure unshaken. “In that case, perhaps you’d like to join me at a smaller gathering in Piltover before then? A chance to mingle with a more intimate circle.” Her golden gaze locked onto yours, the invitation hanging in the air.

Before you could respond, Caitlyn chimed in again, her tone almost playful. “Oh, I’m sure their schedule is just packed, aren’t you, love?”

You glanced sideways at her, biting back a grin. The mock innocence in her voice was both amusing and endearing. “Absolutely. Busy, busy.”

Mel tilted her head, her expression thoughtful. “Well, then, perhaps I’ll see you at the Ball,” she said, her tone light but with an edge of persistence. “And I look forward to seeing how this... arrangement works out.”

Before leaving, she turned back briefly. “I’ll take you up on that offer to accompany you to the border sometime soon. It’ll be good to show face.”

“Of course,” you said, nodding. “It’s an open invitation.”

Caitlyn added, her tone airy but with a subtle edge, “Jinx and I will be there too. Don’t worry, we’ll behave. Mostly.”

Mel’s expression remained composed, but as she left, she cast one final, flirtatious remark over her shoulder. “Until next time.”

The moment the door closed, Caitlyn spun you around, her lips pressing against yours in a kiss that was both passionate and territorial. Her hands gripped your shirt as if staking her claim, and you couldn’t help but chuckle into the kiss.

“Someone’s feeling bold,” you teased, pulling back slightly.

Caitlyn smirked, brushing her fingers through your hair. “I don’t share what’s mine.”

You laughed, leaning into her touch. “Noted. Now, what’s this about Jinx at the Ball?”

Her expression softened, her tone thoughtful. “I think it’s important,” she admitted. “For everyone to see her as more than... well, what they think she is. Beneath everything, I think she’s trying. And maybe, just maybe, she deserves this chance to show that.”

You studied her, touched by the sincerity in her voice. “You really think that highly of her?”

Caitlyn nodded, a faint smile on her lips. “She’s reckless and infuriating, but there’s good in her. I know it.”

Her words settled over you, and you nodded slowly. “Alright. I’ll talk to her about it. See if she’s interested.”

“Good,” Caitlyn said softly, her smile widening. She climbed onto the bed beside you, curling up against your side as you sat down. Her warmth was a comforting presence, and she rested her head on your shoulder.

“Thank you,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

“For what?”

“For being exactly who you are.”

You smiled, wrapping an arm around her and pressing a kiss to her temple. “Always, Commander.”

The shop bustled with quiet energy, a blend of Piltover’s refinement and Zaun’s grittier ingenuity. You walked between Caitlyn and Jinx, their voices alternating between teasing insults and surprising moments of tenderness.

“I don’t think you’d know a good dress if it slapped you across the face, Jinx,” Caitlyn quipped, her lips twitching into a small smirk.

“Oh, please,” Jinx shot back with a laugh. “At least I don’t walk around looking like a mannequin straight out of some boring Piltover catalog.”

“You mean sophisticated?” Caitlyn countered, a playful gleam in her eyes.

“Sure, let’s call it that,” Jinx retorted, nudging your arm. “What do you think? Too stuffy, right?”

You shook your head with a soft chuckle. “You’re both impossible.”

Yet, as the remarks went on, there was an ease between them, something softer. For the first time, it felt like they were actually enjoying the time spent with you—and with each other.

The stylist clapped their hands, pulling Caitlyn toward the fitting rooms first. “Alright, Commander, you’re up.”

Caitlyn disappeared behind the curtain, and when she emerged, the room seemed to quiet. She wore a slim, dark navy dress, its structure reminiscent of her uniform, with sharp, clean lines that flattered her form. The fabric shimmered faintly with a metallic sheen, evoking the strength of Piltover’s enforcers. A golden sash ran from her shoulder to her hip, cinching the look with elegance.

You stood there, completely speechless. The sight of her stole your breath. The way the dress hugged her figure, the way it blended her military roots with breathtaking beauty—it was mesmerizing.

“Well?” Caitlyn asked, a faint blush rising to her cheeks under your gaze.

“You…” you paused, shaking your head as if to clear your thoughts. “You look incredible, Caitlyn.”

Her smile softened, her gaze lingering on you for a moment before she nodded toward Jinx. “Your turn, Zaunite.”

Jinx groaned but allowed the stylist to usher her into the fitting room. Minutes later, she stepped out, and the room felt like it tilted on its axis.

Her dress was a bold Zaunist creation, asymmetrical with layers of deep purples and teals. Chains and gears accented the bodice, giving it an industrial edge, while fine silk draped over her shoulder and cascaded down like water. Despite its Zaunist grit, the dress had an elegance that made it undeniably stunning.

You stared, utterly breathless. Jinx shifted, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. “What, too much?”

“Not even close,” you said quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Her smirk widened, but a faint flush crept across her cheeks as she exchanged a glance with Caitlyn.

“Alright, your turn,” Caitlyn said, gesturing toward the fitting rooms, her voice tinged with amusement.

With a bit of reluctance, you let the stylist guide you away. When you stepped out, the room fell silent again.

You wore a tailored suit that was both daring and refined. The base was dark, almost black, with subtle patterns that shifted between deep green and gold when caught in the light. Gold accents traced the seams, and Zaun-inspired line art stretched across the exposed skin of your arms, beautifully blending into your tattoos. The stylist had even incorporated delicate patterns in hues of pink and blue—subtle nods to Jinx’s style—woven into the lapels.

Caitlyn and Jinx stared, completely at a loss for words.

“You clean up well,” Jinx finally managed, her voice unusually soft.

“Understatement of the year,” Caitlyn murmured, her eyes tracing over you.

As the stylist adjusted the cuff of your sleeve, the two of them began to talk—together.

“Honestly, this suits them perfectly,” Caitlyn said, her tone genuine.

“It’s got that Zaun grit,” Jinx agreed, her smile faint but real. “But the Piltover polish… yeah, it works.”

“They’ve always balanced us out, haven’t they?” Caitlyn added, glancing at Jinx.

Jinx nodded, surprising herself. “Yeah. They have.”

For once, there were no insults, no biting remarks. Just quiet admiration for you—and a newfound respect for each other.

You turned to them, noticing the way they were looking at you and, perhaps even more surprising, at each other. “Well?” you asked, spreading your arms. “Think I’ll turn a few heads at this Ball?”

Jinx grinned. “Oh, you’ll turn heads, alright.”

Caitlyn stepped closer, her hand brushing against your arm. “More than a few.”

You smiled, the warmth in their gazes settling into your chest like a steady flame. "Glad to know I’ll have the two of you at my side."

The grand hall of Piltover's prestigious ball gleamed under the soft glow of countless crystal chandeliers, their light casting shimmering patterns across the marble floor. The room was alive with chatter and laughter, the hum of diplomacy and wealth mingling with the occasional clink of champagne glasses. Every corner was occupied by Piltover’s elite and Zaun’s newly included representatives, their uneasy alliance under the spotlight of this gathering.

Outside, on the grand staircase leading to the entrance, you stood flanked by Caitlyn and Jinx. Caitlyn was poised, her regal gown hugging her figure in clean, elegant lines that spoke of Piltover’s precision and grace. Jinx, on the other hand, radiated a raw, untamed beauty in her bold Zaunist ensemble. Both women looped their arms through yours, their presence grounding you as you prepared to step into the lion’s den.

“You ready to blow their minds?” Jinx teased, her voice carrying that familiar mischievous lilt.

“Or stun them into silence,” Caitlyn added, her tone softer but no less confident.

You glanced at both of them, your lips curving into a small, wry smile. “With the two of you by my side? They don’t stand a chance.”

The grand doors swung open, and the three of you entered together, your steps synchronized, your presence magnetic. The entire ballroom seemed to pause, all eyes drawn to the three of you. The dark hues and intricate detailing of your suit caught the light, the subtle line art woven into the fabric a tribute to both Piltover and Zaun. The pin on your chest, representing both cities and the two women at your side, gleamed like a quiet declaration of unity.

Whispers spread like wildfire. Gasps of surprise, murmurs of admiration, and, from some corners, hushed tones of disapproval. But no one could deny the power radiating from the three of you. Together, you were a force, a symbol of what the world could be if peace prevailed.

Across the room, Mel Medarda’s golden gaze locked onto you, her expression unreadable. She was mid-conversation, her poise immaculate as always, but the moment she saw the way Caitlyn and Jinx held themselves by your side, her attention sharpened.

Once inside, the three of you exchanged glances. Caitlyn touched your arm briefly, her fingers lingering as she whispered, “I’ll handle the councilors.” She nodded toward a group of Piltover’s elite.

Jinx gave you a sly grin. “I’ll go charm the Zaun crowd. Try not to miss me too much,” she said with a wink before slipping into the gathering of Zaunist representatives.

That left you alone, standing amidst the shifting crowd. You felt the weight of their stares, but you carried yourself with quiet confidence, nodding politely to those who greeted you. You had barely begun to move when Mel appeared, her steps graceful, her expression one of casual authority.

“Quite the entrance,” she remarked, her voice smooth and melodic. “You certainly know how to command a room.”

You offered her a small, polite smile. “It’s not intentional.”

Mel’s lips curved into a faint smirk. “Perhaps not, but intentional or not, you’ve made quite the impression.”

Before you could respond, she extended a hand. “Dance with me,” she said, her tone more command than request.

You hesitated, instinctively wary. “I think I’ll pass.”

Her eyes darkened slightly, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Don’t be foolish. Avoiding me isn’t wise, especially when the people you care about could end up paying the price.”

Your jaw clenched, anger flaring hot in your chest, but you forced yourself to remain calm. After a beat, you nodded, taking her hand and leading her onto the dance floor. The music shifted seamlessly into a waltz, and the two of you began to move, every step measured and precise.

The room watched in awe. The way you and Mel moved together, your every motion fluid and effortless, was mesmerizing. But beneath the polished exterior, the tension between you crackled like a live wire.

“You have such potential,” Mel said, her voice low and intimate as you spun her. “And yet, you squander it on... this.” She gestured subtly with her free hand, encompassing the crowd, the treaty, the entire effort to unite Piltover and Zaun.

“‘This’ is progress,” you replied evenly, your voice tight.

She chuckled softly, her amusement laced with condescension. “Progress is a fool’s dream without power. And you—you could have so much power. More than Caitlyn. More than Jinx.”

You stiffened, your grip on her hand tightening slightly as you led her into a graceful turn. “Caitlyn and Jinx are the reason I’m here,” you said, your voice firm. “And they’re more than enough.”

“Are they?” Mel countered, her golden eyes piercing. “One is a dutiful soldier, the other a wildcard. Neither of them understands what it means to truly shape a world.”

You fought the urge to retort, your anger bubbling just beneath the surface. Instead, you focused on the dance, your steps growing sharper, more deliberate.

Mel leaned closer, her lips near your ear. “But you do. I see it in you. You could be so much more than this idealistic crusader.”

As the music swelled to its crescendo, you suddenly dipped her, the motion so fluid and dramatic that the crowd gasped in awe. Leaning down, you smiled—a smile that didn’t reach your eyes—as you whispered, “Touch them, and I’ll see to it that your head is delivered to your mother’s doorstep. Wrapped neatly in Piltover silk.”

Mel’s breath hitched, but she quickly masked her reaction, her smile returning as you lifted her back to her feet.

You took her hand, pressing a polite kiss to the back of it. “Thank you for the dance,” you said smoothly, before turning and walking away.

Mel watched you go, her expression a mix of intrigue and satisfaction. She loved the fire she had ignited in you, even as it burned in defiance of her.

You found Caitlyn and Jinx together, their eyes filled with concern as they studied your face. Reaching Caitlyn first, you placed a hand on her waist, pressing a tender kiss to her temple. “Commander,” you murmured softly, the nickname carrying a warmth only she could understand.

Then you turned to Jinx, gently cupping the side of her face as you kissed her forehead. “Jinx,” you said, your voice quieter but no less affectionate.

They exchanged a glance, their concern evident, but you offered them a faint smile before stepping away. “I’ll be back,” you said, your tone calm but firm, and slipped out of the ballroom, leaving them to wonder what had transpired.

The Piltover Ball had left a lingering tension in the air, but none more so than in you. As you stepped out into the night, your chest felt tight, and your breathing came in shallow gasps. You pulled at the lapel of your suit, unbuttoning it in an attempt to find relief, but the sensation of being choked wasn’t physical—it was emotional. Mel’s voice echoed in your mind, her threats laced with false charm. The images of Jinx and Caitlyn in danger, hurt because of you, sent a cold sweat down your spine.

You flagged down a taxi, your hands trembling as you tried to ground yourself. Just as you were about to step inside, a voice cut through the fog.

“Wait!” Caitlyn called, her heels clicking against the stone steps as she rushed to you. Her face was etched with concern, her piercing blue eyes searching your face.

But before she could reach you, a hand grabbed her wrist. Jinx.

“Don’t,” Jinx said firmly, pulling Caitlyn back.

“What are you doing?” Caitlyn snapped, her frustration bubbling over. “They’re in trouble. I need to help them.”

Jinx shook her head, her grip on Caitlyn’s wrist firm but not harsh. Her expression was a rare mix of seriousness and vulnerability. “Not like this, Piltie. You don’t want to see them like this.”

Caitlyn’s brow furrowed in confusion and anger. “What are you talking about?”

“I’ve seen it before,” Jinx said quietly, her voice unusually somber. “When they’re this angry, this… out of it. It’s not something you can fix by running after them. Trust me, okay? Just trust me on this.”

Caitlyn hesitated, her gaze shifting from Jinx to you, standing by the taxi with your hand braced against the door. Your chest heaved as if you were battling something inside. She wanted to go to you, but something in Jinx’s tone made her pause.

Finally, Caitlyn nodded reluctantly. “Then what do we do?”

“We give them space,” Jinx said. “And when they’re ready, we’ll be there. Together.”

_______________

Some Caitlyn action hehe <3

#wlw #fanfiction #book #lgbtq #jinx arcane #jinx x reader #caitlyn arcane #caitlyn kiramman #caitlyn x reader #love

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adverbally · 8 days ago

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The Waiting Is the Hardest Part

Written for the @steddiemicrofic December prompt “time” | wc: 485 | rated: T | cw: pregnancy, reference to nausea and vomiting | tags: future fic, established relationship, alpha/beta/omega dynamics, alpha Eddie, omega Steve, pregnancy test, mpreg

I know this is late but I’m still posting for the sake of keeping my personal microfic streak alive 😬

———

The timer ticks loudly, the sound bouncing off the tile in the otherwise silent bathroom.

Three minutes isn’t so long to wait. The time will fly by.

Steve paces in front of the sink. He bites at his already-ragged thumbnail. He tries to ignore the weight of Eddie’s gaze, following him around the room from his perch on the counter. He looks at the timer again.

It’s hardly budged.

“Watching it won’t change anything,” Eddie reminds him gently.

“I know,” Steve sighs. He bites his lip, worrying at a piece of dry skin until he can taste blood, and keeps pacing. It’s better than listening to the seconds count down or looking for the slightest hint of a blue line on the test.

“Steve.”

He turns to see Eddie’s arms spread wide in invitation. Steve accepts it without hesitation, instinct guiding him to step between his alpha’s legs and into his embrace. As Eddie’s warmth and herbal scent surround him, Steve breathes deeply for the first time that afternoon.

“We’re gonna be okay,” Eddie murmurs. “Either way.”

Steve doesn’t respond, instead burying his nose in the crook of Eddie’s neck. He can feel the scar tissue over the scent gland there, the twin of his own mating bite. Their bond has survived worse, Steve tries to remind himself. It will survive this, too.

Another minute and a half. Then they’ll know.

The prospect makes Steve’s stomach churn. He still isn’t sure if the nausea is an actual symptom or just a manifestation of his anxiety, but the cause won’t matter much if he pukes on his mate. “I don’t… will you check, when it’s time?”

“Of course, sweetheart. What am I looking for?”

Steve swallows hard. “Blue line.”

“And that means it’s positive?”

He can’t speak over the lump in his throat, so Steve just nods against the soft fabric of Eddie’s shirt. When he closes his eyes, he can hear the thump of Eddie’s heartbeat, smell the fresh rosemary of his scent mixing with Steve’s own sour citrus. It’s enough to keep him grounded, as much as Steve wants to let himself float here in his alpha’s arms.

“Stevie,” Eddie begins softly, “do you want it to be positive?”

He does, God help him, but he’s terrified to get his hopes up. It feels like if he tells Eddie he wants this, if he tries to explain his fears, he’ll jinx it. Steve bites his lip again and doesn’t say anything and waits.

The metallic clang startles him when the timer goes off, but he doesn’t move. He feels Eddie lean over to grab the plastic wand.

“Oh my god,” Eddie breathes, and there’s only one result that would prompt that reaction.

He raises his head and sees Eddie’s grin. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Eddie holds up the pregnancy test with its little blue line. “Congratulations, Mama.”

Steve beams through the tears streaming down his face.

#steddiemicrofic #steddie #steddie fic #steve/eddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #mine

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ghostchilismoothie · 1 year ago

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I took my friends on a vacation to this nice desert town and it turns out there were big worms with a desire to kill (Sat 9/30 7 pm est)

i have described Last Train Outta Wormtown in a variety of ways.

its like if dead by daylight was tremors and also cartoony goofy

like Jackbox but worms

and also like King of the Castle in you get more customization options if you buy it

and you have Among Us tasks

what it actually is without comparing it to other games is that it is an asymmetrical Sandworm vs cowboys game where the Pardners have the goal of fueling the train, finding the key, and destroying the leftover train cars on the train track to escape the canyon. The worms have the goal of chomping on the Pardners and keeping them from completing their tasks. the worms can only see the pardners when theyre moving on the sand (like dune!) featuring (l-r): @flagninja,@malatruse,@idkhowtomakeaname, @theshitpostcalligrapher, @hexfruit, @jarpened

its sure to be a chaotic and fun time! come worm with us!

twitch_live

#jinx does streaming #last train out of wormtown

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fluffy-fics · 8 hours ago

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VI X Reader (PART 2)

BARTENDER VI MODERN AU (PART 2)

Part 1

(Vi x fem reader)

(INFO: Vi is 30, you are 30 too)

2 days had passed since your last trip to the bar, and you were ecstatic about today. Something inside you yearned for the smell of sweet cedar that had clung to Vi, and to see the way she expertly poured drinks. Something about the way light reflected off of her arms and biceps as she worked made butterflies jolt in your stomach.

You walk into the bathroom of your small apartment, staring into a mirror as you adjusted your hair and clothing to look perfect, as perfect as it was gonna be atleast.

You sigh, and flash yourself a smile, bounding outside the apartment complex and getting into your car, starting down the asphalted streets and keeping your eyes peeled for The Last Drop. Suddenly a flicker of green light up ahead caught your eyes as you traced letters across a wooden sign that spelled out the name of the bar. A sensation tingles up your spine as you survey the nearby parking lot for open spots, being a tad more packed then you would have expected.

You finally find an open spot, park, and feel cool air hit your face as you walk out of the veichle, eagerly walking, more like sprinting into the bar. The aroma of alcohol burns the back of your throat once more as you walk through the door, a crowded scene erupting into your vision. Your eyes scan the area, looking for the bartop, and when you find it the feeling of excitement within you stalls for a moment. There is no bartender behind the counter, only the colourful bottles of booze that illuminate the bar with life. You feel your body still push forwards towards the table, taking a seat at the same stool you sat at last time.

Your eyes search for any trace of Vi, hoping to see her hair peaking through the crowd, your nose hoping for just a small taste of the cedar that had entranced you last time. But as you turn around to face the bar, you feel a small tap on your shoulder. You whip around, hope streaming through your body as you see a light tattoo.

“Are you y/n?”

You freeze. How does this person know your name? Her outfit is interesting, a leather top with lacing in an X formation, long purple plaid pants underneath a large belt, accompanied by 2 long blue braids of hair. You froze as you saw a shape move behind her, but felt relieved as you realized it was just a small child, brown-orange hair with blue hair colour at the tips.

“Yeah? What’s it to you.” You respond, coming off much more hostile sounding than intended.

“I’m Jinx, Vi’s little sister. She has been gushing to me about you, but she hasn’t been feeling well. She’s being a HUGE baby about it, I really think it’s just a minor cold, but whatever.” Jinx hands you a small slip of paper, putting a hand on the little one’s head as she pulled on Jinx’s braids. You unfold the crisp paper, gazing at a phone number.

“Thank you.” You say, sighing with relief that Vi remembered about you as you put the number into your phone.

“Aaaaanny time- c’mon Isha.” She murmurs to the child, the two walking out of the bar. Hesistantly, you send a message to the number.

You: Vi? Is this the right number?

…

No response.

You: Hello?

…

Vi: Yeah, it’s Vi. I’m so sorry I couldn’t make our little date today, I felt really awful and didn’t want to make anybody else sick, especially you.

You: Its alright! Please don’t stress, I appreciate the thought and hope you feel better soon <33

Vi: Awhh~ thanks cupcake. I appreciate it. If you’d like to stop by sometime, maybe when I’m not as sick as I am, I’d love to have you over!-

You read the screen as an address gets sent. Your heartbeat picks up, and excitement wiggles through your stomach.

You: Can we meet soon? When do you think you’ll feel better??

Vi: Maybe on Friday, 6pm? I think this thing will blow over relatively quick.

You graze your schedule, seeing that you’d have to work earlier on Friday but should still have enough time to go home and get ready before 6.

You: Yeah! That works!

Vi: See you then, cupcake~

You don’t know why the word flusters you as much as it does, but you DO know that you love seeing, and hearing that word spoken to you, especially when Vi is the one saying it. Or writing it.

“I’ll see you soon.” You whisper to the phone, giddy with excitement once more, but ultimately hoping that this time you’d be able to meet up for sure.

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ladey · 2 months ago

Note

I have hope that Jinx didn't die because Caityln was looking at the vent blueprints and kinda smiled. And you can see a pink stream going through the vents before the explosion, which could be jinx with shimmer. Plus vi, is surprisingly ok after that??? Jinx also did say that she wanted to fly away on one of the airships in season one, and that's what it ended with. Maybe she's doing what she said, leaving so people would be better off without her, though I don't believe they would 😢

(Sharing this theory with all Jinx writers right now to cope)

that is EXACTLY what i was wondering about too. how come caitlyn was holding the monkey head while looking through the hexgate blueprints and then had that smile???? it looked like she knew something we don’t.

i don’t wanna be too delulu. i also went and rewatched to look for that pink streak u mentioned and i did indeed see it. however i’m not sure if that’s solid enough proof to claim it was her because it doesn’t look super convincing 😞. but it does for real make me wonder if ur right bc why else is it there? unless it’s just part of the explosion…??? i’m clueless.

as for the airship i also wondered if it was her for the same reason, because why are we just watching a random one fly away without finding out who it is or why it’s there? what significance does it hold in order for it to be the last clip we see of the episode? so many questions ARRRGH

#arcane #arcane season 2 #jinx #arcane jinx #jinx arcane

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aliamor · 2 months ago

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So I don’t really know if req are open if not sorry ! But I was wondering if you could do where reader has two cats and a dog of her own and is really good with animals and like each time she appears on cases stream she always has like two cats in her arms and both dogs and other cat following her, just animals straight up adore her. And spends a lot of time outside to be with jinx as well and just is like the straight care taker to all of them. (And all the animals sleep in bed with her and case) thank you xx

OFCCC

Literally any animal in the world adores you, which case finds perfect because his love for his kittys and dogs is unmatched.

Once you made an appearance on cases stream hold your kittys and soon you can the pitter of dogs followinh into cases streaming room, and they lay their chin onto you knee/ leg as this look up at you for pets.

Kitty knows you have left your normal spots in cases house so kitty soon enters into the room and on to the table like she does in cases stream and she meows at you and case.

Chat loves seeing you and the feature of all your guys pets was always a yes. Chat would say

“Them pets love Y/N”

“Y/N is such a good pet parent”

“KITTYY”

Case always loves to say “i swear our pets only love them” as he giggles at you, totally in awe of the safe nature you have.

Alot of the time you and case get no room when yall sleep because 70% of the space is taken up by your guys pets.

“Stop cuddling them and cuddle me” case would tease out as yall giggle.

In the end both of you are very good pet parents.

MWAH,

I missed yall so muchh, and i hope you all are doing good and safe🤍

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warrior-cats-rewritten · 4 months ago

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Grayclaw

"Looks like we're gonna have to kill this guy, Jinx Arcane."

"Damn."

Grayclaw is a silver tabby tom with spiral patterned stripes, long fur, sharp claws, broad shoulders, and ears that begin to curl inward at the tips by ASC Book 4. His eyes are ice-blue.

Poor Graypaw. He takes each loss he feels so deeply to heart. He was inconsolable when his Papa was gone, as he and Jayclaw had an incredibly close bond despite how young Graykit was.

When Curlfeather passed, Graypaw took it even more terribly. He was very nearly in denial, trying to hold himself together to be the "rock" for his sisters. He did not do it well.

Splashtail sunk his claws into him. Promised him security in return for support. He was Curlfeather's apprentice, he knew she would want him to watch over her kits. She was such a good, loving mother, wasn't she? Such a shame she's gone, she would have made a perfect leader, good thing she shared all her ideas with me to make me a perfect new candidate. Ah, rest, sweet Curlstar, I shall take care of your children for you...

Graypaw buys it. He supports Splashtail, his new best friend. When Splashtail claims his leadership, Graypaw vouches for him. His mother trusted him, he must clearly be worthy.

Then Frostpaw is "killed". She runs away from the Clans into a strange place with a small party of other cats, Sunbeam, Nightheart, Whistlepaw, and Shadowsight. No one knows this, of course. She is assumed to have died as well. Graypaw snaps. He cannot take another loss, and hangs on to every word Splashtail says. Splashtail is young and born from tumultuous times himself. Starclan has lead them astray in his eyes, and his mentality stems from a long cycle of violence that is as inevitable as an egg spoiling in summer heat. Graypaw swears he will do anything to keep Riverclan safe, and follow Splashstar's every order.

In return, Graypaw is immediately given his warrior name, Grayclaw. In honour of his beloved father, who would be so proud to see him. Splashstar tells Riverclan to yowl loud enough that Jayclaw will hear his name being honored. Funny that he left out any mention of 'Curlstar'.

Grayclaw becomes one of Splashstar's enforcers, quickly climbing the ranks. Grayclaw, Duskfur, Shinetoe, Brackenpelt, Foxnose, Shadenose, Wavesplash, Spikeleaf, and Mallownose all support him. While Mallownose is made deputy, Splashstar creates a second position. Head Enforcer.

Grayclaw is placed in that decorated position. He is in charge of enforcing Splashstar's rules, and making sure cats are compliant with them. He buries his head in the sand when it comes to complaints. The only one he'll listen to is his sister. Mistpaw, denied a warrior name for not singing Splashstar's praises, doesn't complain, but... She does make suggestions. She saw a lot of salmon in the stream, maybe they could do more hunting patrols today rather than making everyone go over battle moves for the 5th time in a row?

Grayclaw grieves his missing sister, presumed dead, he cannot stop thinking about how much of a failure he must be, that the only hope he has left is to keep Mistpaw safe... If she keeps looking upset, Splashstar will get angry...

He forces Mistpaw to bow to Splashstar, calling him Riverclan's true leader, and that the only reason she'd held off was due to her own grief for her mother. Of course Splashstar understands, he's so generous, so wise.

He gives her the name Mistwillow instantly, a beautiful name, and seems to settle down. Grayclaw sees this as having been the correct thing to do. It kept his sister safe and in line, and Splashstar approved.

Then, when the dust seemingly settled during a horrible battle with Windclan, Frostpaw appeared in the moonlight, silver fur shining and curled ears framing the crescent moon. She had a small group with her that was growing quickly, leading a rebellion against Splashstar and his enforcers. Grayclaw at first was enraged, he had mourned her so badly, fought so hard for the peace he had built for Mistwillow and himself, and now she came in trying to tear it all down. He fought like hell at first, going after the River Rebels and doing his best to destroy them.

And then he grew desperate. He begged Frostpaw to join them. They'd be a happy family again. They wouldn't have to be alone anymore. They could just go back to the way things used to be. She just had to give all of this up...

Frostfeather refuses, and The River Rebels make another push back into their home.

Grayclaw can't take it. He can't handle his sister abandoning him again. He needs to be better, to keep what he has left together as it slips through his claws like feathers in a hurricane. He resolves himself of one thing...

He'll always have his sister's memory.

Grayclaw catches his sister, crashing into her after a long chase up onto the highest cliff of Sun-Drown Place, the two rolling over each other, almost off the edge of the cliff.

As thunder cracks deafeningly above them and lightning shines in Frostfeather's star-filled eyes, Grayclaw pins her against soaking wet rock, sharpened claws raised high, dripping from the torrential rain around them... He knows if Frostfeather perishes, the rebellion will too. Splashstar needs him to do this.

He has to do this.

Why can't he do this?

#graypaw #grayclaw #graypaw asc #frostpaw #frostfeather #splashtail #splashstar #curlfeather #mistpaw #mistwillow #warrior cats #warriors #warrior cats rewrite #wcr #character page #a starless clan

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sinner-sunflower · 8 months ago

Text

P.2 HH Lucifer-centric AU 22/?

STORY 1, PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10, PART 11, PART 12, PART 13, PART 14, PART 14.5, PART 15, PART 16, PART 17, PART 18, PART 19, PART 20, PART 21, PART 23, PART 24, PART 25, PART 26

I totally forgot to post this yesterday alksjdlksajkl

It's literally in my drafts but the day was too busy I honestly forgot. So here's a treat!

Also, I know there's a lot of mystery and questions of what's going on but I never planned to fully stay on the POVs of those in Heaven. I just wanted to give you guys a glimpse but I didn't want to tell it all.

You are all as clueless as Luci. Just as I intended hehe

------------------------------------------

Lucifer feels cursed. He can sense it. Even without Roo, he's certain that all this misfortune is deliberate. Given everything that has happened in the past few months, he didn't think it could get any worse.

He should've known not to jinx it.

Everyone jumped up, alarmed by the cannibal demon's frantic cries for help.

Outside, they were met with a chaotic battle as sinners and Hellborns fought against the supposedly dead angels. Both side have bodies that lay lifeless on the ground amidst the pandemonium.

Lucifer: What the fuck is going on?!

Cannibal Demon: We were piling the bodies up in the Embassy for burning, as you instructed, Your Majesty. But then—a body suddenly sprang back to life and attacked one of our workers! The next moment, we were all being attacked by the other bodies! They don't seem conscious, sire. They were snarling like rabid animals.

At that moment, an angel turned in their direction and charged straight at Lucifer. He extended his hand, and the angel burst into flames, collapsing to the ground and writhing in pain until it died.

Charlie, the hotel residents, and the other Overlords sprang into action, fighting to kill as many angels as they could.

Lucifer saw what the cannibal demon was talking about. The angels didn't seem truly alive. Instead, they screamed and attacked blindly, targeting anything in their path. Their forms were as mangled as the one that had fallen before him.

Then an angel was tossed at his feet. It twitched but the body was too destroyed to attack again. It looked up at him with blank eyes, black liquid streaming down its face like tears. The angel reached a hand towards him and tried to speak.

Heaven Angel: K-k-ki- me. P-ease

Lucifer was too petrified with shock to even register what the angel was trying to say. Was it begging him to kill it?

The angel gasped and attempted to crawl closer until an axe buried itself in its head, instantly killing it. Lucifer looked up to see Adam standing there.

He wondered when Adam had arrived.

Adam: Dude! Snap out of it! The fuck are you doin'?? And what the shit is happening?

But Lucifer couldn't answer. He just stared at the first man blankly.

Lucifer: I thought you were at the palace?

Adam: Seriously?! Gah!

Adam swung his axe again, killing an angel that had gotten too close.

Adam: One of these fuckers got in and I'd rather not die in your stupid house!

Another swing, another fallen angel.

Lucifer: They're angels....

He saw Adam's gaze harden but he does not falter one bit.

Adam: Are you just gonna stand there and stare or are you gonna do something?!

Lucifer snapped out of his daze, the reality of the situation sinking in. He looked around, seeing the chaos unfold as his allies fought for their lives. Taking a deep breath, he summoned his strength and stepped forward.

Lucifer: Let's end this madness.

He extended his hand, conjuring flames to incinerate the embassy, illuminating Pride like a giant flaming beacon.

Lucifer: Toss them all into the fire!

Lucifer's voice boomed across the city, echoing with authority. Soon enough, angels were screaming as they were engulfed in flames.

He took to the sky, setting fire to every zom-angel he could see. Reminding himself that they were no longer their normal selves, he saw this as an act of mercy.

Lucifer flew higher, his eyes scanning the chaos below. He could see Charlie, the hotel residents, and the Overlords fighting fiercely, holding their ground against the onslaught. Each flame he conjured was a prayer for the end of this madness.

As he incinerated bodies left and right, a troubling thought gnawed at him: Was this still Roo's doing? The state of these angels bore a striking resemblance to the infected creatures he had encountered in Sloth.

Roo: Not me, fallen. Looks like someone upstairs messed with something they shouldn't have. How thrilling~

The voice startled Lucifer.

Lucifer: What are you talking about?!

Roo: Hell's not the only one harboring a dark entity.

He cursed her silently but the Root of All Evil just laughed.

Roo: Corruption is such a wonderful thing.

The battle continued, and it didn't take long for them to rid the area of the reanimated corpses. However, the toll was immense. Everyone was on the verge of collapsing. The relentless series of events in the past hour had drained their remaining strength. If Heaven were to attack now, they would be fighting for their very lives.

Lucifer landed, breathing heavily, his mind racing. The angels’ corrupted state pointed to something far more sinister than he initially thought. If Roo was telling the truth, then Heaven itself was compromised.

Charlie: Dad!

Lucifer: Char-char, you guys okay?

Charlie: We're all fine.

Adam: Speak for yourself, girlie.

Charlie was only slightly surprised by Adam's appearance but didn't question him.

Lucifer: Are we sure that's the last of them?

Charlie: Alastor has his shadows canvassing the city right now.

Lucifer looked around at the carnage, wondering how much more they could handle. Before he could think further, Adam spoke up again.

Adam: I know those angels.

Lucifer: What?

Adam: Most of these are my girls.

There was a hint of sadness in his voice. Despite being a misogynist douche, Lucifer realized Adam genuinely cared for the angels in his army.

Lucifer: Exorcists?

Adam: Yeah... shit, what the fuck is going on up there? Why did they turn into these things?

Lucifer had no answer, so he remained silent.

They see something twinkle in the sky, followed by a beam of light. Lucifer quickly raised his hand to create a barrier just in time to deflect the blast. Even he struggled against Michael's powerful weapon. Multiple blasts rained down, but they were erratic, not aimed directly at Hell.

Something in the distance was getting closer and closer, dodging left as another blast exploded nearby.

Was Michael aiming for that?

They couldn't tell what it was until it drew nearer. It was an angel, struggling against another as they plummeted. Soon, more angels came into view. A particularly strong blast from Michael shattered Lucifer's barrier, and they could only watch as more angels fell into Hell.

The war had arrived.

And there was nothing they could do to stop it.

Roo: Play time~

Lucifer should've known not to jinx it.

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