#posting this here bcos important.

[absolutesort]

frankie & callie — day 23.

SMS ➡️ FRANKIE: welcome to the villa, frankie ! choose two islanders to take with you on dates on our love island speedboat  #seayoulater #makeasplash 

setting:   the beach  /   on a speedboat.

featuring:     callie   /    @graftisms​  

frankie.

oh they've got her number alright.  a speedboat date ? fucking ace. frankie could count the amount of times she'd unloaded and 'test-drove' the speedboats for entitled charter guests just to haul ass putting them back away again half an hour later. admittedly, she's pretty fucking jealous of the guy who gets to drive them about on the surf while they laugh and pose for candid close ups. truth be told, she'd probably prefer to do that while impressing her date, rather than sharing a bottle of wine and attempt riveting conversation, but beggars can't be choosers. and coming on a show like this was certainly begging.  "hop aboard my vessel!"  frankie hollers, docking against the shoreline after taking the boat for a whirl  ( they'd begrudgingly allowed her to with the promise it'd be a good entrance ) tipping her captain's hat, frankie eyes the other, dimples sucking inwards. "where to, miss?"  yeah, she couldn't have a date on a boat without making at least one titanic reference. better to get it out of the way now.

callie.

the date couldn't have come at a better time, with the villa walls feeling like they were closing in on her after last night. having to say goodbye to liam had been rough, maybe rougher than she expected, and dylan's stress hasn't been making her feel any better, even if he is trying to separate her from it now. the second callie sees the ocean she can feel herself coming back to life. the sea air doesn't smell exactly like san diego or home, but there's a familiarity to it that has her walking with a little more pep in her step. the sight of frankie doesn't hurt either. honestly, callie had feared it's be another dude. she gives a silent thank you to the love island gods as she approaches the dock with a grin.  "is this where i say the stars?" she jokes. titanic is one of her grandma's favorite movies. it feels so good to be on a boat again, even if this one is nothing like her father's sailboat back home. callie ignores the deckhand offering them her hand as she gets on. "did you seriously drive this here?" she asks, genuinely impressed.

frankie.

frankie's laugh has never been dainty, but this one is practically violent, humour pulling her body inwards, snorting, one hand on her abdomen to stop her from swaying. it's kind of like a parasite that attacks a host body until it takes over. frankie blames it on the delirium of being here.  "yeah! it's the bit right before they go downtown to pound town." she throws her hand up, freezes as if it's connected with something solid like a mime in an invisible box.  "i thought that was so scandalous as a kid, like they are fully going at it and my grandpa is here." callie's tone is one that tickles her smile into a fully-fledged grin. "yeah. you ever drive one?" already, the member of staff that's meant to be supervising their boat trip's kinda forgotten, despite him persistently encouraging callie to wear a life jacket. "dude, she surfs. she's a strong swimmer, it's cool." frankie cuts in, though she'd be lying if she said seeing callie in her swimsuit didn't play into it.  "come here, i'll give you like, a whistle-stop tour if old grumpy guts allows it."

callie.

that might've been the first sex scene i've seen in a movie, no joke," she laughs, already vibing with the girl's high energy. she kind of reminds callie like kenny in a way, the way she seems to be bouncing off the walls of the boat, despite barely moving. she's magnetic, and she has callie hooked from the thought of steering this thing alone. eyes light, she shakes her head. "my dad has a sail boat," she explains, taking the life jacket from the staff member, purely so he'll stop hovering. doesn't mean she's gonna wear it. "i can steer that thing, so i can't imagine this would be too hard. a lot fancier," she notes, eyes roaming around the ship. they only settle back on the blonde at the offer for a tour. "that'd be ace. is this what you do for a living?"

frankie.

it feels good to have this level of animosity so soon. part of it, she supposes, are the nerves associated with uprooting your entire life to parade around in a bikini on international television for a few weeks ( if you're lucky ).  reaching for callie's hand, she tugs her towards the cockpit, ignoring the bosun in favour of taking the reigns herself. "first thing's first," she fights the instinct to add i'm the realest, and guides callie's hand towards the fan. "you gotta turn on your blower."  frankie snorts at that, having never really noticed how crude it could sound before finding herself on a date with a hot girl she was trying to impress by giving her a lesson in speedboat driving. "that's to like, ventilate your engine and all that crap. otherwise, thar' she blows. literally."

callie.

a date where a hot girl was showing her around a speedboat had never been something callie thought was actually possible on this show, but maybe the love island gods are looking out for her more than she thought. fighting a smile, she lets frankie guide her hand around the control of the ship. if a man did this she'd never let them live it down, but she's holding onto every word frankie says--or trying to, but she's also very aware how they're the only two people in a pretty confined space. she's susceptible to fit girls--sue her. "right now?" she asks, permission for her to flip the thing on (or turn on the dial, whatever it is). "are we going anywhere, or just taking this for a spin?" she very much expects the crew on deck to take over for them at any minute, but she indulges frankie anyway.

frankie.

it's only when callie turns to ask her — right now? — something doe-eyed and innocent about it, that frankie realises how close they are, eyes darting between callie's dark eyes and her mouth. "sure, why not. pull that blower, babycakes." it's only a matter of time before the bosun shoos them off in the interests of 'safety'. sure, having an islander go overboard and get caught in the fans isn't exactly sexy, but it'd make for unforgettable tv. plus, there's like, a 0.3% chance of it happening. "we'll just take her for a spin. catch some waves until somebody tells us not to. if you turn this key," frankie instructs, flicking her finger against the key in question, "that's your engine. then you wanna push the throttle forward to engage." usually, there'd be a load of fuckin' hieroglyphics about dock lines and kill switches and shit, but that's not exactly the fun stuff, and since they've literally just pulled up on the beach there's none of that crap to worry about. the boat begins to hum beneath them, pootling forward, and frankie leans in to place her hand over callie's on the stick, her other hand catching on callie's hip. pushing the throttle forward, frankie speeds the boat up, breath quick in her throat, as she turns to glance at callie, whose face is literally just there. she's feeling way too comfortable right now.  "i'm frankie, by the way—" she starts, if only to cut the silence, and draws her attention back to the ocean in front of them. "i dunno if they told you that already."

callie.

there's a flutter of excitement that blossoms in her chest when she flips the blower, eyes flickering up towards frankie with a slight brow raise. one of her favorite memories of childhood was her father teaching her and dylan how to sail, all the ropes and pulleys and getting to steer the ship behind the wheels. for a brief period in san diego she dated a girl whose family owned a trawler, and during a week-long trip aboard it she had learned how to power the thing. but that was nearly two years ago, and even if she did remember the ins and outs of it, part of her would still pretend to be clueless, purely so frankie can continue to move her hands around like this. with a hum, callie does as she's told, turning the key and pulling the throttle with frankie's guidance. laughter bubbles out of her when it kicks in.  "nice," she grins, lips soon pressing together when she feels a hand on her hip. well, okay. she doesn't dislike it. when she looks up to meet frankie's eye, she has to flick some of her curls out of her eyes, trying and failing to keep her face straight.  "i'm callie," she nods, making an effort not to lean back into the controls, though the rock of the boat feels like it's bringing them closer.  "they did. thank you for not being another bloke."

frankie.

at the soggy flip of callie's hair, frankie mimes being struck in the eye by residue. she's fucking cute without even trying to be. frankie's mindset heading into this process was to just get to know everybody (  even those with a villain edit because holding a candle to the islanders' insecurities and selectively screening their worst bits could be brutal )  and just having a good time, no presh, no stress, not pushing things too hard— if it happens it happens — but being around callie, makes her want to work harder. "yeah, obviously you're callie," she laughs, catching one of callie's wayward curls and tucking it behind her ear. "i feel like i know you already. which is totally surreal because we've like, never met." she wants to ask about kenny, but at the same time she doesn't want to ruin what feels like a potential moment, so she swallows her tongue and just looks at her instead, something zingy and mischievous in her eyes and her smile. "woah, fuck!" frankie yelps suddenly when the boat hits a particularly buoyant wave and momentarily throws them off-course, her hands reaching out for the steering wheel and the throttle just as the bosun decides they've had quite enough fun and need to fuck off back to the stern before he gets fired.  "jesus. nearly had another jack and rose situation on our hands. it's like all the signs are begging for one of us to die on a door right now. do you wanna see if there's any snacks in that hamper or if it's just for show?"

callie.

nose scrunches when frankie points out that she knows. who she is obviously she knows, but sometimes callie forgets that the people coming in have been watching them for weeks now. it's a little unsettling, mostly because she knows how reality show edits can go. but if she's on this date today, and with the blonde finding an excuse to touch her already, at least she can assume frankie's seen something she liked.  "well that kind of puts me at a disadvantage," she laughs lightly, "because all i know about you is you can work a speedboat, and you're very fit." callie had thought bash asked her a surprising lack of questions during their date, but in hindsight he also knew her a lot more than she knew him. the sudden rock of the boat doesn't make her react much, just grab a nearby wall to keep herself upright. it was a little bit of a jolt she needed. you're very fit. excuse her while she barfs, and not from being seasick.  "please," she nods. "and i think i heard something about champagne? i hope you like bubbly, otherwise you're going to get stick of that stuff." callie is already sick of it, but it beats doing a first date sober.

frankie.

"very fit?" frankie repeats, a hand lifting to clamp over her mouth and mask the hideous snort that escapes her.  "fuckin' hell, alright... hold your horses..." comically, she rolls her eyes, masquerading as the uptight, no-PDA type she couldn't be further from. it's a first date, she has to keep reminding herself, as much as it feels like she knows callie. you can't just start grabbing someone on a first date, frankie. boundaries are kind of hard for her to navigate. "you're not bad yourself, i guess." it's clear from the way frankie eyes trail over her that she's interested. "actually, scratch that. we're not here to play hard to get. you're like... so hot. like stupid sexy. but you also seem like such a fun person to hang out with, so... i hope you don't mind me picking you."  there's a definite imbalance in the power dynamic, not only with the fact frankie's the one teaching callie how to drive a boat, but she's also seen first-hand callie open up to other islanders. there needs to be a way to level the playing field that isn't just flashing a nipple. "okay. then it's open season for you to ask me crap and i can't lie," frankie suggests, gripping the handrail in one hand and the bottle of bubbly in the other as she makes her way to the back of the stern, just above the swim deck. "i mean, the drawback is you probably won't know if i'm lying, because you don't know me. but i guess you just have to trust that i think you're cool enough to tell you the truth." holding the bottle out towards callie, she presents it as if she's a gameshow host. "this is a rare vintage from 1642... is it to your taste, madam, or shall i bring out the chardonnay?"

callie.

the snort feels like confirmation that she can't be acting like one of the other jackasses on the beach, lips twisting into a mix between a grin and a grimace. it's weird to be so forward with this kind of thing. on the outside callie loves a good flirt, but on the show it feels like everything is so much more calculated, as if something has to come out of every interaction in the villa. flirting is more fun when it's harmless, and when there's not fifty grand on the line that so many people care about. but at the same time, it is nice knowing what's exactly on the other's mind, smile growing at the compliment. "nah, thanks for picking me." she's both surprised and flattered every time. sometimes the nerves only come in later.  "anyone could be lying at any point,"  she shrugs, though frankie doesn't have to worry about callie lying. life's too short to say shit you don't mean.  "1642, fancy,"  she nods approvingly, holding back a smile.  "approved. are you from the states? where out exactly?" if she's another californian, callie will die.

frankie.

asking someone out's meant to be nerve-wracking, but frankie doesn't really get that. if she's out at a bar, she'll just approach the fittest person, and if they say no? she'll just thank u, next! her way onto the next person. in here, picking someone can upset all of the other social dynamics. picking callie doesn't mean that she doesn't also want to get to know dylan, she just thought she'd be fun for a speed boat date.  "okay, cool. because i know you've got you're thing with kenny, and that's chill, i respect that, i don't wanna step on toes but like. it's a fuckin' speed boat, you know? i'd be lame to not pick you."  or dylan, but she feels like he's getting enough screen time at the moment, and while he's fit she kinda doesn't want to be involved with any of that drama. "and we all have to pick someone we're into, so..." handing the bottle to callie, she nods, allowing the other to do the honours unless she explicitly asks not to.  "um... yeah, kinda like a hodgepodge i guess? my mom's half-italian, my dad's argentinian, but i spent most of my childhood in naples. it's in florida. yeah, they love to golf. i spent most of my summers working at the country club driving around a caddy, but that's... yeah that's boring. what about you, did you have jobs as a kid?" she's always found people who worked as a teenager more trustworthy than those who've probably never had a real job in their life, namely naomi and maddox.

callie.

"we've only just coupled up," callie shakes her head. after a beat, she realizes how dismissive that sounds.  "i mean, kenny's chill, i doubt she minds either. you'll like her, i'm calling it now. but nah, i appreciate this date more than you know. it's been so stifling in the villa, it's nice to be out in open air again." she takes a deep breath of the sea air once more, letting it clear away any bad vibes from yesterday.  "oh, you're too kind," she says with an exaggerated nod of her head, delighting in being given the bottle. it's not often she gets to pop champagne, undoing the wiring above it and tossing it onto the ground, since she has no pockets. callie thinks she means naples, italy at first, nodding in understand when florida is mentioned. that sounds more accurate.  "is that on the water?" she asks, followed by a whoop of delight as the cork pops off, thrown onto the other side of the boat. champagne sloshes at their feet, causing callie to chug from the bottle quickly, trying to clean it up.  "crikey,"  she coughs after, passing frankie the bottle. are there glasses? does it matter? probably not.  "that's cool. what did you do there? i worked as a lifeguard for a few years in high school at the local beach. basically got paid for being outside, so i wasn't complaining."

frankie.

she wasn't going to pry into the whole kenny sitch, but as soon as callie says that she's glad she did. not in an i-wanna-fuck-up-your-relationship way, but more in a oh-sweet-so-you're-keeping-your-options-open kinda way. the way her face lights up makes it obvious she wasn't expecting that answer, tickled by something like hope. "groovy," frankie starts, attempting to reign in her smirk. "well then i'm glad i picked you..." and if it turned out to be just friends, then at least she'd have someone as sound as callie around. "yeah, when i was watching i kind of thought like, kenny, dylan, liam are the ones i'd get on with best. and you, obvs." hugging her knees against her chest, frankie pushes out her foot to nudge against callie's ankle, a sudden tinge of embarassment in her stomach. is she being too much?  "yeah, it's like... majorly aquatic, dude." throwing up a shaka sign, she mimics callie's accent. "i'm kinda between places now, but when i lived there, i think i swam every day of my life..." she watches callie pop the cork with a warmth in her eyes that's almost reverence, dimpled and amused by callie's antics ; she looks uninhibited, more free than frankie's seen her on the show so far, as her mouth fastens around the bottle and glugs. "damn, girl, what dat mouth do?"  frankie teases, whooping and hollering like a frat boy as she calls out "chug! chug!" her foot slapping against the deck.  crikey sounds so cute in callie's accent. she almost says as much, but she's trying to keep it chill. "you were a lifeguard!?" frankie takes the bottle and swigs from the neck. "man, that's so hot. if you were my lifeguard, i'd pretend to drown like... all the time." speaking of, they should definitely take the opportunity to go for a swim while they're out here. but first, champagne. she takes another hearty swig, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand and passes it back to callie.

callie.

"oh yeah?" she laughs, not sure if frankie is pulling her leg when she points out nearly everyone that callie interacts with on a daily basis, or if she means it.  "well i may be biased, but they're all the best people in the villa. naomi and rhys too. although liam got dumped last night," her smile twitches off her lips for a second.  "not sure if they told you."  it's a little awkward, because callie obviously doesn't blame frankie for liam leaving, but it's hard to ignore that as one goes, the other comes in. two ships passing in the night. "i don't sound like that." the accent is horrible, but it makes her laugh anyway, shaking her head.  "nah, i feel that. i'm kinda between places right now, too. i've been back in sydney for a bit, but i miss san diego. kinda taking life day by day, you know?" does frankie know all this already? it feels so weird, the idea of people knowing your life without knowing you. she better get used to that.  "so are you not there anymore?" she asks, steering the conversation onto her. frankie's energy is infectious, reminding her a lot of her friends back home. her hands raise in the air as if to assuage the cheers, doing a playful bow.  "i had a few of those."  callie makes the face at the memory.  "usually prepubescent boys. totally not sexy." taking a seat, she takes another swig of the bottle.  "what do you do now? are you a professional captain, or do you just look good in the hat?"

frankie.

"i mean... i don't know everyone yet." and the narrative the studio heads construct can be super fucking selective. even those she feels like she knows might end up surprising her. "rhys seems cool." naomi, she's not so sure about. seb seems like a good time too, but she keeps that to herself. "literally just seen dejan and maxwell's promos but like..." she peters off, pursing her lips, and gives callie a knowing look. "would probably go there." is it bad to say that on a first date? it feels weird to talk about grafting other people when she's sat with someone as fit as callie, but it's kind of the name of the game — one big board of moving parts.  "that sucks about liam. you guys were like a thing, right?" frankie asks, trying not to pry. "sorry, you don't have to talk about it if it's raw or whatever. that's super sad, though. i wanted to ask him about climbing equipment."  she drops her face down against her legs, her cheek resting in the valley between her knees as she gazes up at the other. "you so sound like that." she'd stuck out high school drama studies purely so she could attempt to master her liam neeson in taken impersonation, so impressions are kind of her thing. "oh yeah?" being 'between places' might be a red flag to others, but to frankie it just demonstrates her willingness to change. "i've never been to san diego... but i'd like to. i think we went past sydney on charter once, but i was working so i didn't really get to see it." is it too soon to say that on the outside, she't totally visit her? "loosely based in fort lauderdale, but not really. my brother and i travel around in his camper on the off-season."  adopting a chill surfer-bro persona that honestly isn't too far from dylan, frankie adds. "the idea of property ownership is super fascist, dude. my home is the open road." laughing, she takes the bottle, downs another swig, the ocean spray kissing her face.  “you think i look good in the hat?” she smirks, pushing a hand against callie’s shoulder to knock her off-balance. “tease. nah. i’m a deckhand. gotta make it to bosun before i even consider captain, but i feel like that’s not really my thing... bossing people about.” she’s had so many interests, and yet frankie’s still not really sure what her thing is. “i started an apprenticeship in engineering but it wasn’t for me. if i’m going to be travelling the world, i need to see it, not be stuck in an engine room, y’know?”

callie.

"everyone's chill, honestly. i'm sure you'll like everyone." though at the mention of the new male bombshells, callie feels her lips pinch together. she knows frankie had gone out with dejan before this, and who knows how their date had went. but it would be wrong without giving her some kind of warning about his drama, right?  "that maxwell bloke seems cool," she says, "just be careful with the other one. i know you were just out with him, but apparently he dated romi pretty seriously and then cheated on her. you're bound to hear it come up in the villa, so... just warning you now."  if she didn't say it, callie would've given it thirty minutes in the villa before she was filled in.  "yeah, we were coupled up for a time. he was one of my closest friends in the villa,"  she admits. there's no use denying it.  "it sucks, but it's the way it goes, i guess. that's a shame about sydney, though. you'd probably like it. i'd like to see florida one day. i heard the gulf coast is gorg." she's not sure if that's where naples or fort lauderdale is, but she really would like to see the waves of florida, despite hearing some less than nice things about the state.  "no way, that sounds sick," callie sits up a little straighter. traveling around in a camper is totally something she'd try.  "how old's your brother?" with a snort, he steals the bottle from frankie's hand, taking a swig. "you do. but—" callie swipes the hat from frankie's head, placing it on her own head as well,  "not as good as i look in it." with a cheeky grin, she takes another swig of the champagne.  "deckhand, no way. what kinda ships do you usually work on?"

frankie.

eyes wide like an undiscovered meme template, frankie’s kinda taken aback by that bomb drop. “wait, what?  okay, yeah, they did not say that in his promo.” imagine cheating on someone like romi. still, shit happens, people cheat, it’s hardly a headline, and maybe there’s more to the story than just he cheated therefore he’s a shit person. whatever, hardly matters now — she’s with callie. “naples is on the gulf coast,” frankie notes, attempting to appear casual, shrugging her face against her shoulder like she’s the movie imitation of some shy bella swan type. “my dad still has a place there. just in case you ever feel like dropping by. i could play tour guide.” she’d love to play tour guide, and honestly she wishes she’d had more time to show callie around the boat.  “yeah, it is pretty cool. he's got a VW. and whenever i work crew, bed and board’s included, so i never pay rent if i can help it.” more accurately, she never pays for anything if she can help it. “oh, i have four brothers. is it just you and dylan or are there more of you? but leo’s... i wanna say twenty-seven? but maybe he’s twenty-eight. marco turns thirty this year and leo’s two years— hey!” attention snagged by the grabbing of her hat, frankie leaps towards the other and attempts to wrestle it back. “don’t fight me! don’t fight me—” she cries out between laughs, one hand locking around a wrist to pin it to the deck behind them. it’s only when the hat’s back in her hands that frankie realises she’s straddling callie, heat in the places where their limbs touch. she swallows thickly, knowing she should probably move, but then again frankie’s never been good at doing things she should. “you’re right, it suits you more...” frankie breathes, leaning in to fix the hat on callie’s head and tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. her gaze flickers between callie's eyes and her mouth. “um, do you feel uncomfortable, right now?  'cos i can move. unless...?" her smirk is wicked. "joking..." 

callie.

"yeah, so just be careful. he seemed like a chill guy when i talked to him, but y'know... can't really ignore fucking your girlfriend's cousin."  callie isn't against second chances, but keeping it in the family extends beyond her limits.  "oh, cool,"  she perks up at that, eyes bright at the offer.  "i'd love that. there's still so much of the world i want to see, y'know? but if you ever find yourself in sydney, i can show you around too."  it's funny to make plans like this with someone she's only just met, when their relationship is still a giant question mark, but it's not unlike callie to make offers like this to strangers.  "four brothers? crikey, how do you do it? i just have the one and he drives me mad sometimes."  but, like, in the best way.  "are you the youngest?" frankie strikes her as the baby of the family.  "hey, hey!" she's not expecting the attack to come with stealing the hat, but callie can only laugh as she tries to fend her off, carefully putting down the bottle beside them so it doesn't become a casualty. frankie fights like she has three brothers, no match for callie's single brother experience, letting out a huff of dramatic indignation when it's successfully swiped back. it's only after a beat that she realizes the position it's put them in—if they were kissing, it feels like a base would've been taken—eyes lifting to meet frankie's unflinchingly. callie can feel her pulse quicken, though she offers a small smirk back at the blonde, determined not to look as rattled as she feels.  "thank you."  it's hard to keep the smugness out of her voice.  "well, normally i'd ask for someone to buy me dinner first, but..." she's not kissing on a first date, callie tells herself. t's a necessary effort to not let her eyes wander down to her lips, though they catch something instead.  "what's this?"  fingers close around her wrist, extending her arm to survey her tattoo.  "cute pup. yours?"

frankie.

so she surfs, she wants to travel, and she's big on addams family values. so far, callie's ticking a lot of boxes. "um... i'm sick at wrestling, and really good at not flinching from the smell of farts." there's a giddiness to both of them, their back-and-forth feeling like a game of who can speak first, overlapping answers where frankie can't quite hold her tongue from chipping in with her excitement. "second youngest," she chirps, the need to nurture paramount within her whenever she looks at fabian who, despite only being three years her junior, will always be a baby in frankie's eyes. "you're the oldest, right? kinda hot. i don't know why, just is." if callie's uncomfortable, she doesn't seem it, her stare a steel trap as frankie releases the limb she'd pinned down, teeth tugged beneath her lip when she shuffles to get more comfortable, thigh to thigh, hip to hip.  "i'd buy you dinner. what are we having? i love italian food, i won't lie... but greek is a close second."  at once, the smile dissolves from her face, replaced by something far more stoic and reflective. "yeah. that's wilbur. he was the best boy."  god. bit fucking deep. here she is sat in the lap of love island's most sought after lady, and suddenly dead dog's on the menu. pushing off from callie, frankie grips at the handle that circles the length of the boat and slides the few foot across to the swim platform. "i'm gonna take a dip..." she explains, tugging off her mic pack and setting it down on the deck.  it's an attempt to ground herself ; being in the elements always makes her feel more human. rising to her feet, frankie straightens her arms, bends her knees, and arches her body forward to dive off the back of the boat and into the the tropical surf.  "are you coming?" she shouts, when she eventually resurfaces, flicking the water from her hair. she's definitely just given a production assistant a heart attack where risk assessments are concerned, but fuck it. yolo 🤪 .

callie.

"gross," she laughs, "but also accurate. at least you're not the youngest. i feel like that's objectively the worst." not that she can relate, grinning when frankie points out that she's the oldest. "thanks, i think so too. it's by, like, ten minutes, but i never let him forget it." but whether she's the oldes tor youngest between them, callie would probably always be as protective of dylan as she is now. there's not much that she lets truly phase her, but her brother's emotions is one of them. it's the first time in a few days that she hasn't thought about them, honestly. "i'd fuck with some italian good." is she leaning against frankie, or do their bodies just happen to brush together in every necessary place? this is the kind of date and experience she expected when joining love island. "my go to is usually mexican. san diego had the best." she likes seafood too, obviously, but that feels like low-hanging fruit. callie hadn't been sure if swimming was on the menu for them, so the offer makes her eyes light up. she takes her time watching frankie saunter over to the edge of the boat before diving down, with a form that would've brought her old swimming instructor to tears. by the time she resurfaces, callie is already on her feet removing the mic from around her waist, and shimmying out of her denim shorts. the captain's hat is left on top of the pile of clothes she's made before she dives in after her, relishing in the comfortable chill of the water. "fuck me," she gasps, once she comes up for air. "this is so nice."

frankie.

when callie strips out of her shorts, frankie has to avert her eyes, turning her face towards the sky instead like the head of a big yellow sunflower. water drops cling to her eyelashes when she wrenches them shut. it's not that she doesn't want to look, but she's cautious of making things too hands-on too fast. she has to keep reminding herself that while she already feels like she knows callie, the other has no idea who she is. a loud splosh later, callie’s in the water, spray catching frankie before she submerges herself beneath the waves, holds her breath as she waves, the two of them floating like flies in amber for a second, before they resurface, splitting the tide apart.  “hi...” frankie starts, flicking water at the other. subconsciously, she floats closer, her knee making contact with callie’s beneath the water. “uh, they did say not to get off, actually,” diving off a motorised boat when it wasn’t in neutral was pretty much a no-go on charter, but all body parts were still attached so no harm done. “but fuck it...”    it’s not like the water’s poisonous.   ( she hopes... ) “now we're like, co-conspirators,"  her lips turn upwards, fancying the idea of the two of them sharing something tangible like a secret.  "i just thought maybe you needed a dip. plus, i’m pretty sure someone fucked in the pool at the villa...” they’ve definitely drained it since, but still her nose scrunches.  back on the boat, the camera assistant's arguing with the bosun, the words 'missing footage' tossed about along with something about mic packs.  "now that it's just us, what are you thinking?"

callie.

she's not sure if it's the waves or her body on autopilot that's closing the distance between them, but callie lets out a pearl of laughter at frankie's admission. suddenly it makes sense why the crew on the boat is looking at them like they have three heads. if they're trying to corral them back on the boat, she's not paying attention. "no, this was needed," she nods, mouth dipping into the water when she's not speaking, trying to hide her smile. "god, don't tell me that." it's not like she hasn't thought about the likelihood of the other islanders fucking everywhere in the villa, but to her the pool is sacred. it's the closest she gets to feeling like this, even while forced on shore. her foot accidentally kicks frankie's underwater, like bad underwater footsie. "i'm thinking..." callie hums, considering it. "this is the best date i've been on here yet." after a beat, she adds, "and not just because of the sick ride."

frankie.

maybe love island wasn't the best choice if frankie's already getting riled by the amount of rules surrounding wearing mics, the constant requests to pause conversation so that the focus puller can get a better close-up, but it's worth it for a stolen moment like this. with dejan, the camera guy had basically sat in her fucking lap the entire time they were talking, eager to catch every reaction in high-res while all frankie wanted to do was push him off the boat. but bombshells could be written out just as quickly as they were writen in, plus they'd probably invoice her for the camera. in their current slice of time before they're mic'ed up like puppets on strings again, it's nice to feel like anything caught by the cameras would be grainy and unusable at best. feels like a 'fuck you!' to the studio heads — and after they've just organised such killer dates for her. "you're really fucking cute, you know," frankie starts, when callie retreats into herself, her smile bubbling against the tide. she sinks her own mouth under the water and blows, saltwater bubbles foaming up from her lips. her legs attempt to catch the foot that callie had kicked her with, shins knocking clumsily. "not just because of the sick ride? wow. okay. was it because of the sexy camera assistant? i get it. you did have insane chemistry with him..." her blood feels red hot beneath her skin when her hand drops to find callie's hand, threading their fingers together. "i, um..." giggling, she backs out, running a hand through her soaking hair. "god, this is so embarrassing." attempting again, she clears her throat, eyebrows knitting together as she attempts the solmenity of a mafia boss. "back on the boat, i really wanted to kiss you..." for a moment, she lets the words hang. "but i also feel like... it's maybe not the right time. i just met you. and i don't wanna make anyone pissed before i've even set foot in the villa." though she's not sure how much she stands by that last part.

callie.

"oh, i know," she says playfully back, although callie would use a lot of words to describe herself, and cute isn't one of them. she's never before been worried about what lies beneath the ocean as she swims, but the foot against her leg comes with some nervous jitters. much like a shark, she'd a little afraid of getting bit. so far her love island experience has been a slow burn, taking her time getting to know people and forming honest connections. but there's something dangerous about frankie, how quick the spark appears. callie's been burned before by similar sparks, but she'd be lying if she was thinking about that now. it's really hard to focus on much else when frankie's looking at her like that. "oh yeah, me and dennis are like this." she moves her hand to put it out of water to show her fingers intwined together, but frankie finds the hand first, and it's no longer her own fingers that are threaded together. she can hear her heartbeat drumming in her ears, unable to not laugh when frankie giggles, even if it's not exactly funny. her breath catches for a moment, and not because of the exertion of swimming. "i mean..." she loses her train of thought there for a second, eyes now focused on frankie's lips, and wondering why she doesn't just go for it. that's what they're here for, right? did people usually kiss on first dates here? plus there's the nagging reminder that frankie hasn't been exposed to the rest of the islanders yet. who knows if she'll suddenly be into jenny or maddox by then, and by then the door will be closed for callie. she's not looking to have regrets. "c'mere." the suggestion is soft, pulling frankie closer with their entwined hands. it's a good thing callie's a strong swimmer, able to keep herself upright as her other hand reaches for the side of frankie's neck, so she can lean in and taste the salty ocean on the blonde's lips. dennis and the other crew members are not going to like this.

frankie.

the energy bouncing between them is palpable. part of her says it shouldn’t be this easy. it’s not like the casual physicality between them is anything new — frankie’s a serial flirt, affection like a mother tongue to her, and it feels weird to have a partner if they’re not constantly touching. she’s been on dates before where they couldn’t keep their hands off each other ( she’s fucked on first dates — hell, who hasn’t ? ) but on love island the rules feel somehow different. everything’s slower and frankie doesn’t want slow, she wants a love that comes as fast as an olympic bobsleigh down a tunnel, that falls as hard as a body from a balcony. she’s having a hard time keeping her hands to herself.  "i was so jealous,” she teases, fingers twisting in callie’s like a schoolyard game of cat’s cradle. “when i die i wanna come back as dennis. that way i might get your attention..." it’s ironic considering the whole date they haven't taken their eyes of each other. even now, with the speedboat behind them, she feels like she has the full weight of callie’s attention directed on her, on her mouth. there’s a crackle between them, like when you know it’s no longer an if you’re going to kiss, but a when, that tantalising zing of anticipation as you wait to see who’ll crack first. no sooner has ‘c’mere’ passed callie’s lips and frankie's practically grabbing at the other to close the distance, sinking into her touch, the hand on her neck leaving her nerves like livewires when callie joins their lips. it’s tender at first, noses pressed flush, a hitch in her chest as her hand gathers in the wet hair at the back of callie’s neck, but it isn’t in frankie’s nature to be tender. she’s already getting greedy ( far too greedy for a first kiss ) when she breaks the contact only to deepen the kiss a second later, open mouthed and gasping against the other’s lips as her knee slides up through the water to settle between callie's thighs.

callie.

she's smiling as soon as their lips meet, because there's something so perfect about this moment. if her life was a movie, this would be the scene before the credits rolled, a neat little bookend oh whatever story it was telling. but the excitement of kissing frankie is that there's no cookie cutter fade to black; instead their kiss only intensifies, hands moving to grab the back of frankie's neck to pull her closer. her breath catches in her throat when she feels frankie's knee move between her legs, sending a jolt of warmth through her whole body, despite the refreshing chill of the water. it's a careful balance of keeping them above water while still clinging together, so callie is careful to only hook one leg around frankie's waist, laughing breathlessly at the little height it gives her. she's not used to girls being just as tall as her, if not more—and she'd be lying if she said she didn't like it.

frankie.

frankie hadn’t exactly planned on kissing anyone before speaking to their partner about it, but considering she hasn’t even met kenny it would be hard to pull her for a chat. plus, they've been coupled up for like two days. it's not like they're married off. snakey behaviour is the last thing on her mind when she's locking lips with callie, hand sinking to catch at the leg that shifts around her waist and pull her closer, hips knocking beneath the water.  she senses rather than hears the boat approaching, a sinking in her stomach because sure she knew it wouldn't be long until they realised they were gone, but she thought she'd have more time. frankie resurfaces for air and an idea strikes her, lips meeting callie's before she tugs the both of them under water, her eyes stinging beneath the current, but she wants to see this moment, the way the water makes everything softer, her hands on callie’s waist seeming disconnected from her own body when they slide down to grip at her hips. the boat approaching only spurs her on, a kiss that's made more frantic by a shelf-life. she holds her breath in callie's mouth until she's physically unable to, resurfacing with an audible gasp as the boat slows to a neutral a few paces away.  "sorry! sorry..." she laughs, breathless, as the cameraman angles his gear off the edge of the boat. "please don't make us get back on yet... we just want to swim." 

callie.

hips instinctually move against frankie's when she's pulled closer, teeth tugging the other girl's bottom lip as they pull apart for a few seconds for some much needed air. it's only with some oxygen finally flowing to her brain once more that she can make out the boat coming closer, and callie knows she should look to make sure they don't get too close—but then frankie is pulling her under, heart hammering in excitement as she's able to look back at the blonde through the stinging saltwater. her hands cling to frankie's shoulders to keep her close, trying not to laugh at the giddiness that comes from sharing air together. in the end it's frankie who breaks first, though callie probably wouldn't have held on for much longer. her arms are still around her shoulders as they come up for air, callie laughing through her quiet gasps. nobody on the boat looks particularly happy for them, dennis included, but there's a new bounce in callie's energy, potentially passed on from frankie through their sharing of air.  "if we don't get on that boat now, they're never gonna let us go on the beach trips," she warns, lips close to the shell of frankie's ear so she can say it without the producers hearing. one of them has to give in first, so she lets it be her, body physically colder when she lets go of frankie to swim to the boat.  "c'mon."

frankie.

god. she really does not wanna get back on that boat, but the thought of making callie lose out on potential beach trips is enough to sway her opinion on the subject. “okay! fine. fine.” frankie concedes, callie’s breath tickling her ear, her neck hot to the touch. “—but i want it stated for the record that you were the one who made us get back on the boat!” she emphasises, splashing a palm full of water at the other girl’s face as she wrestles free from her grip. “i’d be perfectly happy out here all day if it came to it. i’ll swim to barcelona. i don’t give a fuck.” it’s easier to think when she’s put some distance between them, pushing up on the helm of the boat to climb back onto the swim deck. blood zinging in her chest, she reaches out to grab callie’s hand and help her back onto the speedboat. “your brother probably thinks i’ve kidnapped you...” she admits, fingers tugging at lock of callie’s hair like a schoolyard child with a crush. maybe there was some truth in it. she had convinced her to dive into the water and abandon production with her — not that it had taken much convincing. “c’mon. lets get you home. i’ll even walk you to your door and kiss you on the step if you like.” nothing about this experience is normal, but she's glad callie's already managed to make her feel welcome ( even if part of the warm reception involved swapping spit... yikes. ) nose scrunching, she presses it to brush against callie’s, before she swings around to climb up into to the cockpit.  “take it away, dennis...”

#frankie & callie. #frankie & callie 001. #posting this here bcos important. #and im now starting a premise that 1x1 discord threads will b posted here too. sue me. #⥂ frankie castro. ╱ threads.

[intertexts-moving]

frankly idgaf about this disk horse + mandatory disclosure that im not a cop u can do what u want forever u can usr whatever words u want for urself forever love & peace on planet earth. etc. however it does feel disingenuous to say "dykes & lesbians who r only attracted to women's experiences are not & never will be unique there's no dyke who only is attracted to women experience that isn't also experienced by bi ppl / bi dykes / whoever else" when like... there is very much an alienation involved in growing up or just existing while not being attracted to the gender u are societally supposed to b attracted to. some experiences are not in fact universal. and while the idea of sexuality -specific 'spaces' is fundamentally silly and pointless to me i also think it sucks to say 'there is no lived difference between being a woman who is not attracted to men [or the implied counterpart 'there is no lived difference btwn being a man who is not attracted 2 women] vs being a woman who is." like. maybe for YOU there isn't!!!!!!!!! which is 2 say of course that this does feel like perhaps an aha pouncing on wording! type of post, & i wouldn't make it normally. because. as mentioned. this literally only matters if youre terminally online + real world works differently. & idgaf. but the author of the post im vaguing DOES really have the tone here of 'you are stupid and obviously wrong if you think being a lesbian is any different than being bisexual.' which frankly feels overgeneralizing & vague 2 the point where i'm driven 2 make a stupid little tumblr post about it.

#SIGH. roswlel queer dishourse in the year of our lord 2023... surely not. #txt #neg #my credentials here r that im an aro dyke. <- it is more complicated than that i grew up thinking it would b gross 2 be a lesbian and awful #and bad. called myself bi for ages because that felt less awful even though i was exclusively attracted 2 girls. had 2020 moment realized #u could be a nonbinary lesbian mind was blown permanently open. now ive found a couple guys cute or intriguing so like. shrug. #dont really vibe w the label bcos of the gendered connotations sadge. there r dykes in my head though. #only thing that actually has ever been important 2 me irt attraction has been. transness or gender nonconformity but theres no easy #shorthand for that other than t4t </3 #anyway. sorry for the incoherent irritated post on a tuesday night!!!!!

[penny-anna]

OK in advance of tonight's other episode, couple of thoughts on the Percy Jackson tv show's adaptational choices:

i haven't actually seen anyone flag this one up yet (it's a fairly subtle change and i know a lot of ppl haven't read the first book in like 15 years so maybe everyone just forgot?) but in the book the reveal that Percy's mother is still alive drops a lot later in the narrative. book!Percy heads out on his quest fully intending to bring her back from the dead. which imo is a stronger narrative beat & it makes the reveal that she's still alive and he was right to think he could rescue her that much more satisfying.

on reflection agree w the comments i've seen re the other kids should have knelt to Percy after he was claimed. actually saw complaints about this before reading the book so was surprised at how fleeting a moment it was but it really does serve to accentuate both what a big deal a Forbidden Child is and that Percy is an outsider even at Camp Halfblood

as per previous post yes it is explicitly stated in the book that Chiron suspect Percy was the son of Poseidon and i think omitting that was a mistake given the number of ppl i've seen picking up on it

in 2 minds about the omission of the hellhound bcos it is a pretty important plot beat and a cool scene but i can see why they wouldn't want to do a CGI monster fight that was technically extraneous

ALSO Annabeth having mistakenly concluded that Percy was a child of Zeus was a good character beat in terms of her being smart enough to figure out he was a forbidden child but not infallible. and maybe also biased due to her previous relationship w Thalia.

that said i enjoyed her shoving Percy in a lake too much to really complain.

changes i think are for the better:

i think having sending Medusa's head to Olympus have actual Consequences was a good move 👍 unless im missing something due to not having read the rest of the series. i was surprised reading the book that in spite of Percy getting warned not to do it there wasn't any fall out.

i don't think the scene w Percy petrifying one of the furies was in the book either? cool moment!

PLUS having Athena be petty enough to pull that shit was like. very on point for a Greek god flkghfdkj

really enjoyed Echidna getting introduced earlier. amped up the tension in a big way AND kept me on my toes, i was there like ohh is this a different monster? are they moving her fight scene to the train? what's going to happen here - OH NO

Echidna bringing up that the gods and the 'monsters' are all a single family was also 👌great scene all round

likewise Percy & Annabeth BOTH trying to sacrifice themselves for the group loved that. don't think this was necessarily an improvement as the book scene was good in a different way but really good moment

*slow hand clap* consensus!!

#pjo #percy jackson and the olympians

[hanasnx]

indy… do you have a playlist for our fave slut, anakin? what kinda music would u smash to with him/ would he smash with ?

hi there sweet thing. i loved this inbox bcos music is so important to me and i have several anakin/anakin-related playlists that i love to share even though theyre not organized yet

@kraytjustkrayt made me a playlist with this exact premise! i havent gotten a chance to give my full review of it including the songs i think he'd listen to during sex (the post is in my drafts)

as for regular playlists, here are my non-finalized playlists for him (they are always updating and being added to):

anakin skywalker + darth vader master playlist (400+ songs) anakin skywalker albums anakin skywalker + muse tcw!anakin

related. —

anakin @ obi-wan ahsoka @ anakin luke @ anakin obi-wan @ anakin shmi @ anakin

au's. —

fratboy!anakin "final girl" sk!anakin one shot sk!anakin part two songs modern!anakin plays in his car

bonus. —

literally ahsoka tano literally cad bane literally han solo literally hayden christensen literally higher ground literally luke skywalker literally outcast literally padme amidala literally sam monroe star wars original trilogy star wars prequels star wars: the phantom menace

#navigation #indy: song recs #song recs #anakin skywalker #darth vader #star wars #star wars prequels #star wars: the clone wars #star wars original trilogy #star wars: the phantom menace #tcw!anakin #sk!anakin #fratboy!anakin #ahsoka tano #obi-wan kenobi #shmi skywalker #luke skywalker #cad bane #han solo #hayden christensen #higher ground #outcast (2014) #padmé amidala #sam monroe #anon #thanks for the msg!! #indy shoots the shit

[hapifangurl]

i just want to add some observation about the zoro subplot with hi/yori during wano and what does it means for my fave ship zorobin.

in relation to this amazing analysis by @kathitah

in a surface level this side story many would say is to introduce hi/yori as possible love interest for zoro which i beg to differ bcos all throughout the arc, zoro was never written or shown that he is interested with her.

the zoro-hi/yori here was like zoro-ta/shigi. almost like they were there just to annoy zoro then have him save them in the process. remember punk hazard where zoro still finds tashigi bothersome for her attitude towards him but he still carried her when she got injured.

the only thing i could think of why there's this side story with hi/yori is because it's actually for otoko.

how can this child meet zoro (since they are distant relatives and would be an important but tragic plotline for yasui).

oda have hi/yori to be used as an instrument/medium to have her carry otoko then they were pursued by killer and for zoro to save them. also cos she's momo's sister (kozuki clan, oden's kid, you know for the enma sword in replacement of ryuma's)

zoro met otoko (somewhat tying a loose end of meeting your long lost relative - unknowingly by both parties) then the heartbreaking scene of finding out the truth about the rotten smile fruits and seeing yasui be tortured and died. zoro of course clearly got enraged about it.

after the sh saved otoko, the person that always took care of otoko afterwards is robin.

robin here showing that she cared for otoko and was fond of her and almost shown like a mother to her through these shots.

see robin's kimono for the progression of time, 1st checkered white+purple combo when sh saved toko before the onigashima raid. 2nd the one in the circle window that kimono she wore during the celebration when she also sneaked to see the poneglyph. 3rd kimono the pink one when they were discussing about what she discovered at the end of wano.

before they raided onigashima, all the sh reunited in the forest and zoro was given with enma. you can see robin in the background always carrying toko, sleeping in her arms.

during and post celebration, robin's always with toko. watching her sleep, holding her hand, being with her all the time like she's her daughter.

if you are not familiar with this anime you can bet if you ask nonwatcher to show the pics above that robin acts like a mother to toko.

also robin saved toko previously as well.

and id like to point out that among the kiddos in this arc with an exception with momo. luffy and nami is shown to be fond of otama (ace connection right there) then zoro + robin is shown to be more with otoko (yasui's kid whom he befriends with and they were distant relatives).

we saw zoro by the end of wano arc visited yasui's grave paying respect to him as someone who he'd met early on this arc and probably treat him as a friend (indirectly as relatives).

he asked otoko and she replied they were laying flowers which sparked an interest in him.

who's that nakama that is associated with flowers??? he is thinking about robin. the only person he knows that loves laying flowers to dead characters (flashback to ryunosuke during zou arc)

and when hi/yori came to this scene he is not reacting (is it bcos he is not interested or maybe he's a bit disappointed it was not the real big sis here - aka robin).

zoro also has a soft spot for toko, in this scene he's smiling about her prayers and her laugh. then whenever hi/yori is saying something his response was short and stern. you can even tell that he only perks up talking to her in this episode when he is talking about enma (obligatory interaction as it was her dad's sword).

in my opinion, the whole thing with hi/yori is just surface level cos if you watched closely it's really about zoro's connection to otoko/yasui (distant relations) and enma (cos you know its important that zoro will have 3 swords).

hi/yori is there to serve that damsel in distress trope. after being saved the damsel will develop a crush/interest with the savior. a common trope in stories that can indicate romance. this trope was also shown during other arcs but these instances are used by oda not for romance but only for plot and for our main characters to gain something. to have his mc saved someone then the plot A will go to plot B and for oda to used later on as he's nearing ending OP soon enough.

1. in dressrosa with sanji/viola. sanji always simps with beautiful women. saving women is his act of chivalry. after sanji saved viola, she manipulated him bcos she was working under doffy at that time but viola joined the bad guys to save her family. sanji is very perceptive of women still saves her knowing her connection with doffy. then after this viola eventually warms up to him and always blush whenever sanji holds her hands, hugs her etc... can be inferred that she starts crushing on him.

we learned she has clairvoyance and bcos of this when sanji learned from her that the ships in trouble with nami/chopper/brooke in it decided to go and save them. resulting for the SH to be separated. in relation to the whole cake island arc where sanji got a 2nd back story.

2. in fishmen island shirahoshi/luffy. the mermaid princess being targeted and luffy took responsibility in protecting/saving her. shirahoshi is very timid and shy and a cry baby.

and shirahoshi was revealed as one of the ancient weapons that can control sea kings. she will have a big role in the last big battle/war as we are now entering the last leg of OP. she will have a role in it. oda will revisit this one soon.

3. luffy/hancock - im not saying boa cannot defend herself but luffy protected her secret then she developed her deep love for him, so it counts under this trope. we can see all throughout that luffy do not reciprocate boa's feelings for him.

luffy is grateful to her for letting him sneaked into impel down, letting him on her island to trained for 2 yrs but other than that our main MC is not falling into the love thingy. though i can see why people might think that oda is setting up boa as luffy's love interest.

i think luffy will only settle down for a girl that can keep up with his adventurous spirit. and the only character that can keep up with him is nami. boa is just too much into pampering him.

4. zoro carrying tashigi in punk hazard. they already headbutted before. zoro always finds her troublesome as she has the same face with kuina. her strong opinion about him as a swordman and her saying zoro does not deserve to use all those famous swords etc...

in this arc, he lets Tashigi fight Monet but eventually he's the one that finishes monet off. showing us the audience how he'd become stronger as a swordsman. the arc before this is fishman and zoro was not able to showoff that much for his swordsman skill.

so here we have at punk hazard 2 strong swordsman fighting a devil fruit user. tashigi fought monet showing her swordsman skill but not enough to defeat her. then zoro took over giving us a very cool panel of slicing monet in half. letting us know that zoro's training with mihawk for 2 yrs is not for nothing.

he couldn't just let tashigi stay in the lab as the poison gas is reaching the whole lab that would make him as an AS and bad guy. so as a good person he took responsibility for carrying her. once he was reunited with the SH, we even didnt see how he dropped her. we just saw him running besides robin.

in these examples the damsel in distress is used but not in the romantic sense but for the mc to gain something and for the plot to move forward.

now let's go back to where zoro saved hi/yori.

the 1st time he saved her is more for otoko/yasui connection as i already discussed on top.

now the 2nd time he saved her, is for sanji to be jealous of zoro saving a beautiful woman usually his forte. since zoro and her already got acquainted he saved her knowing that she is momo's sister. and to give us a comedy with sanji of course their endless rivalry.

i'd like to point out some cool details in this cover story. this is me over analysing everything of course ahahah

everyone got a map indicating that the sh will be on their seperate missions.

but if you look closely with this in part right here, you have zoro and brook sitting together

brook with a telescope as he's the one that discovered that zoro has a woman sleeping on top of him.

robin at the back of zoro with chopper, interesting placement. zoro facing the other way indicating he'll get lost all the time. even with a map he always lost lol 😂 (lost with another woman) but there's an anchor between him and robin. the string under the butt of zoro connecting to the main anchor below robin. indicating that robin will always anchor him back to the right direction towards her.

chopper so cute looking like a baby. everyone would agree that in the sh crew chopper is the zorobin child/son.

mama/robin teaching son/chopper about the globe. the sun print of zoro's tshirt sun sounds like son.

sun = son

if you look at zoro, he got those father pose or daddy vibes looking at something that interests them like looking at a magazine/news paper with a hand on their chin.

robin's ass directly in front of the sun/son. mmm... interesting. might hint that zorobin will have an actual son in the future.

now in this chapter toko is the child zoro met. so here chopper represents otoko. and as i discussed above as well robin treats toko like her child.

cool details there's a moss at the bottom of the anchor (moss head 😆).

the dagger on top the globe, zoro losing one sword then gaining a new one.

sanji's shirt purple (enma's color as well as robin's). flower pattern at the back of franky (enma's design are embedded with flowers also robin's motif is flower, hana hana no mi, she loves flowers literally got a flowerbed in the sunny, and her powers - sprouting like flowers, flower petals when it disappeared).

nami's bird with a king's crown. - enma is oden's sword, the late shogun/king of wano.

also can be King and he has wings like a bird the one zoro fought in onigashima.

this cover page here in this chapter. her secret.

oda likes to draw from fan requests for cover page. and it is worth noting that he receives tons of requests and he smartly selected a request from a sender name: PURPLE panda.

purple - robin's color.

why crocodile? if you watch alabasta zoro only met him when they were at the casino. they did not fight even once.

crocodile - connected to luffy as he helped him during impel down/marine ford.

and who's other character heavily connected to crocoboy? nico robin, his vice president from baroque works.

and the 6 birds looking very similar to a robin as in the literal bird with the same name as our robin.

quick side analysis for this, as we learned during alabasta as vice president robin almost handled a big chunk for that organization. though crocoboy is the head she is still the one implementing things as croco hiding his identity as the head of baroque works.

and if u remembered when she 1st joined SH she's very inquisitive about zoro asking him directly what's the meaning of his title and him not trusting her that time. and her knowing look while she sat down.

so when they were recruiting for assassins/strong fighters for the organization id like to think that robin also is very on hand who's going to join. and while searching for possible candidates she heard about a pirate hunter from the east blue whose infamous with his demon aura who is very skilled with swords and so called by many as a monster/devil in fighting.

and if you have watched the live action during zoro's introduction a baroque agent tried to persuade him. and the showrunners confirmed that it was a very old concept from oda story to have baroque works recruit zoro. in anime/manga during whiskey peak were zoro killed the baroque works assassins in that whole island he mentioned that the organization tried to recruit him.

so this cover page is really something not just a cool nod to crocoboy but also a zorobin connection. 😉

this is a very long post but even if zoro has this side story including another woman it still always circles back to robin.

wano is a hard watch cos it's very very long just like the whole cake island. the stretch between episodes is almost unbearable.

of course at first as a zorobin shipper my heart deflated seeing episodes for zoro with another woman that could easily be seen as a potential love interest.

but now after reading many theories and analysis and now that i break it down a bit im quite happy that even if some chapters or episodes is him with another woman at the end all clues and subtle hints and symbolism still points to zorobin.

💚💜🌸⚔️

#here spreading zorobin agenda once more hahahha #zorobin #zoro x robin #otp #zorojuro x orobi #roronoa zoro x nico robin #zorobin wano #zorobin alabasta #updated post

[nightswithkookmin]

The only person I trust to spit facts unapologetically besides myself is my ex best friend. Are you her?

I have nothing to say to this other than FACTS.

Spot on.

APT DESCRIPTION OF THE SITUATION

My exact sentiment

He likes to stir the spot, and add some shit

He's basically me on Crack honestly

He trolls, he taunts, he antagonises, he will pull your leg till you fall and then keep pulling🤧

And if you understand this about him then you can't take him seriously at all😩😩😩

I don't think he takes himself seriously he's so goofy😫

When it comes to him ,JM and their "obsession" with Kook it can get a bit 🥴🥴🥴🥴

I always say they both often come across as wanting and seeking validation from JK. Which I'm sure they are both aware of but don't care.

If you are a JK solo Stan then you might have a problem with both of them bcos of this. Especially when all that seemly unwanted attention makes Jk appear more closed off than he actually is.

Most people i know who hate Jungkook say they hate him because they see him as often being rude towards Jimin or Tae or whomever.

People want him to be more open and receptive towards their biases and that creates problems for him when he's subjected to such intense and sometimes unwanted attention.

I'm not a fan of either Jimin or Tae imposing themselves on Jungkook. They might think they doing it out of love, to show their affection or to stroke Jk's ego or whatever but it doesn't make Jk look good out here. Matter fact, it cast him in a bad light and amplifies his "negative" traits. Not cute.

Personally, I like to think it's their own way of showing love and support for Jungkook. Its the only way I can rationalize it. If you've ever been the quiet one among a trio, you recognize some of these friendship behavioral patterns:

The louder outgoing ones are constantly egging the quiets one on, encouraging them to be active, to participate in things, losen up, relax, have fun etc.

And that's just the problem with extroverts. They always think they're helping 😐

One time I let this person bulldoze me into thinking I could belt at church- I cried in front of everybody and became a meme. To this day I don't go talking to that person.

Sometimes when a person tell you they can't do shit believe them. Don't go playing Barbara the builder trying to get them out their comfort zone and making them a fool in front of everybody😐

When you listen to Tae talk about his dynamic with JK it's obvious that's how he sees Jungkook. Which is why he pushes his boundaries often- pushing him to take off his pants to shower together, posting their Tae Kook selca when JK cropped himself out. He thinks he's helping but SIRE BOUNDARIES!

Jimin is like that too as you rightfully said.

The difference is Jimin seems to know and understand the limits and if he recognizes he's pushing too far he stops. In my opinion of course. I could be wrong and Jungkook may not see him in that way at all.

Frankly, I cringe at their earlier dynamic too 😬

Jokers like to romanticize it but damn is it hard to watch. I have selective amnesia when it comes to that part of their history 😓

And I understand, it's important to take Jungkook's perspective into consideration when discussing these topics.

We might be rallying up to free him from Vmin but for all we know HE LIKES THAT SHIT💀

He comes across as the type who would let shit fly as long as he's enjoying it. The moment he doesn't enjoy it he puts up a stop sign.

I think this is what Tae probably doesn't or didn't seem to understand about JK. He takes his no for a yes and go a little bit extra each time thinking he likes it.

But it's not everyone who feels comfortable insisting on boundaries. Some people hesitate to say no out of politeness, some wanna let you down easy- I've learned the hard way. These days I'll kick you in the throat and narruto run into your guts if you fail to register a no.

Jimin goes: I feel awkward I need to film with Jk

Tae goes, well I'm feeling awkward too lemme get JK.

Speaking from a delulu standpoint point, I like to think some times these are just ploys and tactics they use as excuse to film content with Jungkook. Which raises the question, who in hybe is preventing them from freely filming content with eachother and why do they feel a need to monitor them while they film live?

Tinfoil hats people. Tinfoil hats.

Out of all BTS members Tae could have had issues with, he names Jungkook and decides they have dirty laundry to air out in Soop.

Then Jimin is given an opportunity to ask any member in BTS a question and he chooses the most obvious pick- JK.

See this is why I don't get shippers who like Jikook but can't stand Tuktuk or vice versa😩

If you like Jimin it should be very easy to like Tae and if you like Jikook then liking Tuktuk is easy 💀💀💀

They both have JK in common

It goes without saying then that if you like JK then liking Vmin should be so easy too🥴

Is the friend of my friend principle.

Yet tuktukkers can't stand Jikook because then they have to face the reality that what Tuktuk have is not so special afterall😫😫😫😫😫😫

I can say same for Jikook but we both know there's that silently loud question mark around Jikook that no one seem to want to answer or can answer- not even them 💀

I like to remind people Jikook is just a ship like Tuktuk- that's until you clock the difference then jikook is right about alting that ship💀

So I like your honesty. If the Fandom thinks Jimin clinging to Kook is cringe then it's only fair to say Tae is cringe too if he does the same. Real discrimination is when we think it's cute when Jimin does it but it's a problem if Tae does it and vice versa.

And for sure, there's a marketing element to this. Ships are highly commercialized. I keep saying jikook is a brand. The rhetorics around their ship is positive. They are not the chaotic duo that team up for mischief. Or the always fighting duo of the group. They are more or less a love story in the literal sense. They have numbers and engagement and purchasing power to sell out almost anything because people like their friendship.

Then there's the concept of feeding ships.

I think by now they all know what constitutes feeding ships. Tae saw a run episode and pointed out "I think Army would love this." And it was a moment of him kissing Jin👁👄👁

Do I think when he name drops Jk like this he is doing it to feed a ship?????????

I don't know... cos then I would have to assume when he name drops Jimin he is feeding a ship and that just conflicts with my Vmin lesbian agenda 🤧

And I must confess, I've been feeling kinda salty he is not posting about Jin like Jimin😒

(Putting this in the universe because the last time I complained about him not posting Jimin he went and posted a vmin IG. Universe hear my prayer and quench my taejin thirst🕯)

No. Seriously, Jimin is the only person showing Jin love since he left😒

I'm snitching on every single one of them when Jin comes back. It's the kajafeluv for me.

I don't know. I think it's healthy for them to be engaging eachother on social media as organically as possible. And although I wish he was name dropping certain people more or as equally as or along side Jungkook, I also don't think they should interact with all just to interact with one.

Whether we like it or not tuktukkers are his primary fan base. Just as jokers are Jimins. In wake of their solo careers, it's only reasonable they establish these fanbases firmly.

I mean.....

it's not as if jokers are lining up to support him🤷🏾

Let's be fucking for real😩

He shares a fan base more with Jk than Jimin or any other member. Although they all have Army in common too. But he's a smart guy. Surely he knows what's up with the Fandom.

He made that clear from the get-go. Since their solo was announced he's been aligning himself more with Jk and tuktukkers. It's cool tho. I'm still gone ship him with Jimin with my full chest and occasionally Jin after I snitch on him and Jin kicks his ass for me🙂

At the end of the day all he has is his tuktukkers and solos better treat them right, build them a fools paradise and watch them build conjure castles in the air like a supervillian.

Tuktukkers can read whatever meaning they want into this mi nuh care. THEIR SHIP AIN'T REAL🤣

[hifuminto]

Have you see new Hypnosis Mic A.R.B? Part 1

Man i didn't play this game but i suddenly invest with these game after seeing their recent event called "Detective Six Part 1".

Sorry for my Bad English and writing, I am not native speaker and I don't really understand how to write bcos my dyslexia but I really want to make this long post bcos I really exicted! Here we go!

So this event is now about Badass Temple and Fling Posse Cosplaying as some detective to solve mystery. If i am not mistaken this is not first time this game do this. I remember previously they make similar event with Sherlock Holmes's theme with Samatoki, Gentaro and Rei as characters.

I don't really understand Japanese, bcos i can only read Katakana for now. But i like detective stuff, so i will have fun to write my guest here. In the moment i saw the character artwork I recognize some of them. If i am mistaken, please inform me.

Let us starting first with Kuko's base on his card title. 【波羅夷家の一族】 is pretty similar to a Japanese novel name 【犬神家の一族】 or in English title The Inugami's curse.

Kousuke Kindaichi is detective created by Seishi Tokomizo. He is describe as a shabby looking young man with a short height. But have a strong observation skills and logic thinking. His character is feature on 76 novels and appearing in a numerous FIlm, Television and Stage Adaptation.

The Inugami's curse was novel written by Seishi Yokomizo, a mystery novelist as part of Kousuke Kindaichi's series. So of course I think he's cosplaying as Kousuke Kindaichi. Minus the robe but he wears the iconic hat base on the statue. I also doing google a bit and later find out the hat is also part of the costume for 2006 film adaptation. This is a neat reference!

Next is Jyushi. Jyushi card is 【アルゴξ急行の殺人】 that literaly translated in google translate as "Murder in Argo Cart". This is clearly referring to Agatha Christie's novel "Murder in Oriented Express" and who is the star of the novel? Of course its Hercule Poirot!

Hercule Poirot is one of Agatha Christie most famous character. Not much know about his history beside he came from a large family with little wealth in small town on Europe. But he's a former police officer turn into private detective who solve many mystery in his later career. Poirot operates as a fairly conventional, clue-based and logical detective. But sometimes he willingly to hide some important detail of his plan if necessaries. Another fun fact is, Poirot sometimes refer to himself in third person.

Actually before i notice his card name, I already knew he cosplaying either as Hercule Poirot bcos his outfit is pretty familiar to this detective. But i have second thought and think maybe he's cosplaying as John Watson, considering what Hitoya wearings.

But after seeing the card name. I am pretty sure he's cosplaying as Hercule Poirot! But still I am still supersize finding out about this!

And then last, the third member! Hitoya! His card is written 【医師が相棒】 which is literally translate as "Your partner is a doctor". Now who is the famous detective with doctor as their partner? That right. its one and only Sherlock Holmes!

Sherlock Holmes is a detective that no need introduction. Currently he's IS the most famous fictional detective created by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle that still relevant in this age thanks to numerous modern adaptation.

Hitoya maybe the fourth person who cosplaying as the famous detective from Arthur Conan Doyle story. But I think his outfit is the closest one that similar to the legendary detective compare the other three. I mean look at the old Sherlock Holmes picture that i found as reference.

(But I do admit, maybe not his belt thou hahhaa.)

Anyway here some picture of other Detective trio wearing Sherlock Holmes's inspired outfit!

But then i think He IS the perfect choice to portrayed as the famous detective <3 he just need to put the hat on his head XD

Anyway i finish with BAT for now. I will do Fling Posse soon after this.

#hypnosis mic #hypmic hitoya #hitoya amaguni #kuko harai #hypmic kuko #jyushi aimono #hypmic jyushi #hypnosis mic arb #hypnosis mic alternative rap battle #badass temple

[sojrner-fishsticcc]

loona pm - further updates!

lots and lots of updates for this post! been trying to make roughly a post per day to not go overboard but still share what im working on cos MAN ive been absolutely going through this project! this rules!!!

so first off, very minor and later addition i finally gave loona glowing eyes! ive been meaning to do that for a while but i finally figured out how to! so yah, she looks v pretty now.

the major thing was animation. WAYYY more animation. i discovered the cpm modeling discord last night and its helped me get a really good grip on how it works (if you ever use cpm, go there because trust me you are not going to figure this stuff out on your own.) so heres just a big list of poses i animated (still a lot left! ahh!!!)

 - walk cycle (improved!) now looking at it after looking away from it for a while it looks a lil goofy so i might rework it at some point but god i cant get over how nice that digitigrade cycle looks.

 - run cycle! (omg its so cool im so so happy with how it came out) like seriously. i am so so proud of this. some of the hair bobbing and the chest and head movements are a bit stiff so i will probably improve on them. still, this is absolutely the part im the most proud of.

 - jumping (meshes super well with running anim, a bit buggy when falling long distances but thats a bug with cpm itself) i recorded this one in game since AHGHHHH it looks so cool in context. the running-jumps are rad as hell.

 - sneaking and sneak walking. like the running, i cant get over how the digitigrade walk cycle here looks. it has a lot of bone clipping that is probably not anatomically correct nor comfortable but whatever. it looks cool and i like it. sneaking is still buggy, so i cant do things like spam the shift key as that little “hello!” thing that some people do, because cpm has some issues switching between poses instantly, so here when crouchign for a split second it displays the default crouch but then corrects itself making it bug out. that sucks but i dont really know if theres much i can do about it.

- punching/swinging with both hands! more of a minor thing, but hey these little details are super important. id love to figure out if i could make a context thing so that it makes a full horizontal swing when holding a sword or weapon. (i didnt feel like recording a gif for this just believe me bro.)

thats about all i have so far. i plan to do much more and fix some minor bugs like symmetry in walk cycles soon but its a bit difficult. also, not only animation got an overhaul- i also finally implemented proper armor mapping that’s compatible with (hopefully!) any armor set! heres a demonstration of that using the minecraft dungeons armor & weapons mods, just bcos they look very cool and they help a lot with details in armor. (oh and btw, i made the hair specifically press down against her head when wearing armor, of you can tell)

as a further plan, i really want to add some extra movement stuff to this. i know that custom player models allows changing the hitbox, health, reach, etc. and i really want to make this loona model run really fast and have a super high jump. like i said in a previous post, im a big fan of the videos \@rohan_furries posts of his mod which adds detailed anthro fox models to mc, and one of the things it does is add a ton more movement so you can absolutely fly around and lunge and stuff. i really want to add that because GOD running around and kicking ass in this model would be i think the coolest thing in the world. i really hope i can add more detail to the animations because i would love to just stack so much detail on this thing until its so so so smooth... but generally i think itll be mostly finished by the end of this upcoming week, including polishing some of the already existing poses. but ill probably still continue working on it beyond then to add some cool movement stuff like i said above, which i dont know if its even possible but GOD if it isnt im going to figure out how to get it working. i also want to get it working with other buggy things, like some modded armor sets arent compatible with the armor mapping ive set up. ill have to ask around on the cpm discord for that because god the people there really seem to know what theyre doing. theyre all rad as hell btw. other ideas ive had include blinking anims, maybe some more polished idle poses, startup and finishing anims that help it transition between poses more smoothly (which i swear to god might be broken but might just be doing it wrong.) and also gestures if i can figure those out. i also might try to change the arms to be made of two segments instead of the current one so i can get a bit more detailed with the posing. im struggling between adding detail and maintaining the minecraft artstyle. im also excited to finish this project so i can do this all over again but better with another model. dont really know what character its going to be, if you have any suggestions send them to me i guess? idk, i might find a cool one or make one of my ocs or make an oc just for this.

when i finish this model i dont really know what to do with it. its mainly a little project for myself, but i really want to share it with people. ideally id want to sell it for like 10-20 dollars because this thing has taken hours of my time but i still want to share it with people, but im 16 and dont have a way to transfer cash :\ might figure something out, whatever. if you’re interested in getting your hands on it once its finished maybe send me a message? i cant guarantee it but i might if you seem cool.

ok, NOW i need to go to bed since its like LATE as HELL right now. good night guys :)

#loona #loona helluva boss #furry #furry art #furry character #minecraft #minecraft mod #modded minecraft #3d model #pixel art #helluva boss #development #gif #player model #showcase

[dullahandyke]

Wait ok bcos i metisposted. I realised u guys might not have all the eimear lore. So here is the main stuff off the top of my head

Bugs in him - every so often I spam reblog an audio line from kingdom hearts recoded. Mickey its riku they put bugs in him. Actually don't worry about it stay unaware

That one time I tried to move blogs after a six month hiatus and then gave up lol. My alt still exists (@tissyfits if u wanna go for it) but I never like. Log in or use it. So

Materfred - important and vital. Ship between Manfred von karma from ace attorney and mater from cars. I wrote several fics. I reskinned the entirety of my immortal for them. I made a carrd for them (materfred.carrd.co). They are somewhat known because my tags abt them on a post got screenshotted and then the OP of that post blocked me (entirely fair it was a plague upon their notes)

The metis cykes obsession - metis cykes is a minor character in the fifth ace attorney game who has been dead for 7 years by the time the story starts and she has no dialogue. There are seven pictures of her in existence and two of those are of her corpse. I loved her I LOOOOVED her it was like spiritual, I've kinned for fun on and off but I was LITERALLY her IRL for like 6 months. To this day my feelings on aurametis are staunch like stone

The lamp blog - I used to have a huuuge hateboner for clay terran as a symbol of fandom latching onto background men instead of woman characters, and, spurred on by my friend group at the time, I made a blog called yourfavehasfewerficsthanthislamp where I just compared the number of fics XYZ character had next to the number of fics terran had. It was an obsessive hate-cycle which did nothing to actually uplift female characters and the methodology was intensely flawed (shoutout to the 'neopets has fewer fics than terran' submission - I mean, yeah, but I feel like you can't use that to say he is more popular than fuckin neopets. Or that neopets is a poor neglected soul that needs more fanfiction written about it) but hey at least I got reposted to Twitter

Yelling emernally - my old talk tag <3 back before I made yis read all my thoughts unfiltered, back when I spelt my name 'emer'. Given the pronounication of my name, it is a pun that only kind of worked, and it confused most people who came across it. Tag is still up if u wanna read my 2020 thoughts but also like. Dont

Not so much a bullet point but if u were around before I was calling myself dullahandame u are legally my cousin. I dont even remember all URLs what I had back then, only they all had my name in them. Emer-bottomtext, emer-ald-isle, et cetera. Fun times

#self indulgent post yayyyy knowledge #eimear fans am i forgetting anything... thr answer is probably Yes

[alienaiver]

oh, for the little writing game how about sakusa wasn't sure if it was a wonderful sign or a sign of disaster but he knew... 

also, sorry in advance if the prompt is not very useful haha (๑^-^;๑) i'm sending you lots of love, nohr ♡ you are a fantastic writer!!

ELLE !!!! this one RAN from me i swear i have no idea how it got so long...... it was so fun!!!!!! i hope you enjoy it! im not sure if its exactly what you envisioned but i hope it works all the same and makes you smile !! i love a little lovesick-but-very-awkward sakusa so much.... have a whole fic in my mind for him about being Like That with msby supporting him in woo'ing you //sobs hes SO GOOD had to give this a read more bcos it got long and dont wanna attack anyone with the length LKJFESKFJS <33333

send me a sentence + character and ill write a short scenario where the sentence's included!

Sakusa’s late. It’s a long list of annoying circumstances that makes him late for the last practice of the season – one that he’s been dreading because not much has gone his way and ending it on a negative note grates him. He’s in need of a new phone currently and while that may seem unrelated, it’s unfortunately not. His alarm clock – that Miya talks shit about because who uses alarm clocks in 2022? – laid it’s life last winter and he hasn’t been able to find one that’s the same.

Which is important, because the sound of the clock is what matters and his old one was right.

So he’s been using his phone the past year and it hasn’t been much of a problem for the first part until the battery mysteriously started being unreliable. First, he cursed the charger and bought two or three new ones before he had to finally admit it had nothing to do with those – but that his six-year-old Huawei was about to say goodbye.

Which is still impressive because back then he picked the phone based on the price and didn’t expect it to last as long as it has. He was a broke student at the time and while he isn’t one now, the phone market has become so over-saturated and frankly overwhelming. Every time he goes online to check out which phone to purchase there’s a long list of perks that makes him decide on one – and then he stumbles upon a Reddit post that tells of the longest lists of downsides he’s ever seen.

And it’s like this with every phone he finds. Which pisses him off and he’s been putting off getting a new one precisely for that reason. Komori’s talked about just getting the first and best one since they’ll all have drawbacks but it seems like too a significant choice to just leave up to random chance – what if one of the exact downsides are what he needs the most?

But his alarms didn’t go off – and last night he came in late because Bokuto, Hinata and Miya insisted on watching movies and eating together. If they mention how late he stayed, he’ll probably tell them he felt it rude to leave. If he wasn’t so grumpy from waking up on the wrong side of bed, he’d have told them he had fun. Genuine fun.

He opens the doors to the arena they train in and go straight to the changing rooms. He’s trying to turn on his phone as he walks, knowing the way by heart. Considering that others might walk on his exact route wasn’t on his mind today, so the impact he feels at walking straight into you and dropping his phone makes him yelp out loud. He inhales sharply to try and mask his embarrassment from making the sound of loud. He narrows his eyes as he watches you, keeping himself as neutral as possible.

Of all days, he meets you today.

Sakusa’s not sure if it’s a wonderful sign or a sign of disaster but he knew… today would be the day he asks you out. After all, he won’t have a reason to come here for a while as off-season begins.

There’s a small café in the sports arena that mostly sells sports drinks and quick foods for the athletes who come here. You work there and every day you sell him all the sports drinks for the entire team. He volunteers to pick them up every time so he can have a chance to talk with you but fails miserably every time. It always becomes a stuttering string of words as he pays for the drinks and bows at you before he awkwardly tries to balance them all in his arms.

Once, you even helped him carry them. He blushed the entire way and said not a single word to you.

You apologize and bend down to pick up his phone. The screen is shattered to pieces – no luck turning that on now, he thinks. You start to apologize profusely as you realize what’s happened and he yells, “it’s okay, it was”- he clears his throat to control his volume- “broken anyway!”

You nod but still let out a final apology, “I have to get a new one too, it’s just so annoying to find one between all the brands…” you scratch at your scalp with frustration. Sakusa’s eyes lights up – a common subject!

“Do you want to buy new ones together?”

Fuck. That’s too direct. You laugh and your smile takes his breath away, “…sure? It might be nice to discuss it with someone besides the seller trying to make a buck!” you nod, “you’re Sakusa, right?”

You introduce yourself properly for the first time and it’s not until Miya comes and yell for him to hurry or coach’s gonna kill you that he’s able to leave your side.

“Come by the café in your break and I can give you my contact information!” you promise him as you watch him walk away. Sakusa steals not one but two glances back at you before the door to the changing rooms closes behind him. He’s never been happier about a broken phone in his life.

#idk if the premise makes a lot of sense.... but it was so fun!!!! #haikyuu fluff #sakusa kiyoomi fluff #i wanna write so much sakusa... hes rotating like a little chinken nunget in my head every other day i just.. HES SO ADORABLE AND HANDSOME #THANK YOU FOR SENDING THIS <333333 #nohr.talks #lovenote: elle 🧽✨ #nohr.writing #nohr.hq

[wincestisasincest]

Waves on the Shore - Chapter 12: Love and War

Viktor x Fem!Reader slow burn enemies to lovers

x posted on ao3 // WOTS masterlist

Summary: Jayce and Viktor questioning you about your weapon (made with farm-fresh Hextech) is the only thing keeping you from going to jail for science crimes. You and Viktor are literally at each others throats lmao. Also you’re from Bilgewater because pirates are fucking rad

Notes: HERE IT IS. I'm so sorry this took forever I dropped out of college lol ANYWAY HAVE THIS I'm sorry it's so long.

First thing: we have a discord server now! @madschiavelique is helping me mod it. It's still under construction right now so not everything is set up but I didn't wanna wait any longer so join it! So I can talk to you all :)

Second thing: big ol' trigger warning for the end of this chapter. Seriously, things get pretty violent. I'll put the usual trigger warnings around it and have a summary in the end notes. Also! Please read the end notes regardless for some important safety information regarding a concept in this chapter bcos I love you all and you need to stay informed

Word Count: 13.7k

Tags: @edenstarkk @modernamilf @dedicated2viktor @doctorho @yeehawbvby @arcaneparx @the-lake-is-calling @beeblybub

Mentions of: Prostitution, drugs

Triggers: Language, alcohol, loss of consciousness, drugs, violence and fighting in general, blood, dismemberment, knives, guns, death, electrocution, nausea

He was a teenager looking down into the bridge that separated Zaun and Piltover, telling himself that one day, he was going to be on the other side. Sweat plastered his hair to his forehead. 

And, he was an adult, silently reassuring himself that any moment now, this would all be over, as he came to consciousness on the floor of his destroyed apartment. Winter Piltover winds howled outside the window. 

Hormonal acne festered on his face, yet the odor of spoiled sweetmilk that clung to every part of him since he’d gotten his own living space hooked into his nostrils. He was wearing a short-sleeved shirt, with the sun on his bare arms, and a thick winter coat that locked in the minimal heat of his upper body. He was fighting his own teenage mind, so damn focused on the future, to get a glimpse of the past. 

A steamboat passed underneath the bridge, feathering raw smoke dappled with blue twinkles. It chugged forward, gears whirring tenaciously, like Viktor’s own toy boat. But he didn’t need to chase this one - it was already slowing down, and the real mystery lay in that smoke. 

The real mystery lay in that crystal flickering coy sparks. The dust settled, and the rest of the scene came into focus as Jayce coughed. Viktor’s right cheek was pressed against the hardwood floor, and he could see the radial crack that his cane left when it was launched into the wall and the scratch that your knife left when it skidded into the kitchen. The crystal’s life was fading with each second. He had to get closer to it before it died. 

He had to find out what was going on in that boat. He barreled down the incline and onto the Zaun docks, still unaccustomed to the new height of his cane. Growth spurts were not easy on his leg. The boat stopped when it saw its customers waiting on the edge of the platform. The thought occurred that Viktor was not meant to see this. 

The thought occurred that he could be injured, but Viktor sensed no pain. He was functioning at full capacity as he scuttled towards the crystal, yet felt oddly weak compared to the corporeality of his past. His body was diaphanous, as though it were gossamer instead of flesh and blood, and the world could look through him. But he kept pressing forward. 

But he kept himself there, crouching behind a crate that reeked of sardines and stretching his leg against the dock. The captain of the steamboat did not look like he belonged on a steamboat. He was broad shouldered and his beer belly jutted out at the front of his gait. He lumbered through the door. 

Jayce lumbered across the room awkwardly, making the floorboards creak. Blue speckled his pupils. The slight bend in Viktor’s knee sent a rolling ache through his calf, and he almost enjoyed it, because at least it meant that he was still there. 

A bent nail on the dock dug into Viktor’s knee, but he bit his tongue and swallowed a yelp. The captain was talking to the drug runners over the railing in the bridge’s protracted shadow, leaving the door to the boiler room ajar and in Viktor’s line of sight. 

Jayce kneeled down into Viktor’s line of sight, hitting him with the usual “are you alright” and “can you sit up,” to which Viktor responded by nodding and straightening his torso with his good leg. Jayce’s eyes trembled between Viktor and the crystal.

The engine’s fire trembled like it was afraid to be seen outside of the boiler room. It was auroral blue, magic, Viktor felt it in his chest before he saw it, when the blaze called out to him in a hushed, frantic murmur that only he could hear. 

Only he could sense the magic toiling just below the surface. Without waiting another second, Viktor scooped the crystal off the floor with his palm. 

The captain’s palm slammed the door shut, and the fire blinked out of existence.

Viktor blinked as the two split realities snapped together like puzzle pieces. He felt his body - his adult body - returning to the moment. He was wintering in Piltover, long since achieving admission to the Academy, and he could breathe again.

Jayce swallowed. 

“I saw... my...” he ran a frantic hand through his sweaty hair. 

“I saw it too,” Viktor said. No way in hell was that a hallucination. 

“The snowstorm?” Jayce breathed, and Viktor finally noticed that his friend was also not entirely in the moment. 

“No,” Viktor shook his head, “I was a teenager, but... it wasn’t just a memory. I was...”

“There,” Jayce finished, “Yeah... yeah, I was there too. But it didn’t... it didn’t feel like me, it felt like little me, the me that I used to be, but here, it felt like me, and...” 

Viktor looked down at his closed fist. The whirlpool of magic had pacified, but it was still there, ebbing and flowing against the creases in Viktor’s fingers. 

*****

The shadows on the wall danced when the thin band in your flashlight crackled. It wasn’t supposed to do that. 

You leaned over the diagram, one leg on either side, wanting to pull your hair out. Maybe you were just cranky from lack of sleep - it was the middle of the night, after all - but resting was no longer an option with these godsdamned portals on your brain. 

Sighing wistfully, you let your head fall to your knee, catching a pile of textbooks in the corner of the room, basking in the fading, electric glow. 

In the short time you’d lived here, you really made the spare room in the station your own. 

You shoved the mattress into the corner, with your own bedding that you stitched together from “borrowed” Lost and Found coats no one would miss. At the foot of the mattress were the few clothes that you owned, brusquely folded but organized enough so you could find what you needed in the morning. 

The other corner you’d dubbed your “office,” as it housed any tools or blueprints or materials that you took home from work, including those textbooks from the library. There was a spare journal there too, where you drew any errant observations or ideas from the day that you didn’t want to forget. 

In the other other corner, you threw everything else, from scraps of fabric, to old fishing supplies, to a record you’d bought from the secondhand store. You had no means to play it but that was irrelevant. The Beachsweepers had broken up a while ago, but you remembered when they played weekly gigs at one of the taverns under Butcher’s Bridge. This record was no longer in production, and you feared that you wouldn’t find it anywhere else if you didn’t buy it then. 

And in the other other other corner- well, nothing was there right now, but you had plans to make it a small kitchen so you could stop living out of the staff’s break room. 

You were sprawled out in the center, ass planted on a folded shirt so it wouldn’t get cold from the linoleum floor and running off of coffee and spite. You were determined to identify every line and number and variable because one of them had to be relevant to your project, godsdamnit, but no luck so far. 

The flashlight died. You groaned, hurling it against the wall. 

A slow knock interrupted your misery.

“Come in,” you shouted. You were still getting used to saying that. 

“Those Hextech guys just radioed, said they need you,” Officer Richards, who was like nighttime Officer Brent, cracked open the door. 

“Right now?” 

“Yes.” 

“Ugh, alright. Tell them I’m coming.” 

“They already closed the signal.” 

Bastards. Of course they assumed you were going to say yes. 

“And they left an address,” she added. Alarm bells sang in the back of your head. This was away from the lab?  

“To where?!” 

Increased security measures from the dead body incident required an Enforcer escort on campus after curfew, so thankfully, you didn’t need to read the address. It was only when you were inside the building that you realized your destination - faculty housing. People’s personal, private space. And they were inviting you inside. Great.

The doorman sent you to the 8th floor. In the elevator’s dreary hum, you found yourself wondering if this was some menial scene from an alternate timeline. Had you been born like Jayce, or hell, even Viktor, is this what an average day would be like for you? Going home to your own apartment, built into a block with several other apartments, having elevators and doormen and a mailing address? 

It felt impersonal. This building would last long after its inhabitants, and there would be no reminder left of them - everyone was just passing through. It was like that anywhere, but this place was so obvious about it. 

816. Even though you wrote the number on your hand, you got a last minute pang of worry that this was the wrong one.

You rapped your knuckles on the door. 

“It’s open,” came the voice that you were hoping wouldn’t answer. Stupid accent, stupid man, stupidly summoning you in the middle of the night for something stupid, probably.

You bit the inside of your cheek and turned the knob. 

Instantly, you were hit by a front of dust, coffee, and... anise? The place looked like a hurricane had torn through it, though under everything you could salvage the outline of a studio apartment. 

To your left was a bathroom, with the bottom cabinet swung open and toiletries knocked off the sink.

Beyond that was a queen sized bed with the unmade sheets drooping over the side. It was surrounded by a dresser with every single drawer open and a closet exposing rarely used formal wear. Clothing - burgundy shirts, black pants, red ties, white vests, and occasionally a more interesting patterned shirt or cozy looking sweater - was tossed on the floor like confetti.

Across from the bed was a desk amidst disorganized bookshelves, and, of course, a few books were flung off, wide open pages staring at the ceiling. Dents were pressed into the walls; you could swear one of them looked like Viktor’s cane, but you weren’t about to ask. 

And directly to your right was a kitchenette, where the barricade of smells wafted from. Viktor flitted along the counter surface, making coffee, while Jayce nonchalantly sat on one of the seats by the counter. In front of him, a hexcrystal pulsed rhythmically.

“Holy mother of pearl,” you said under your breath. 

“To be fair, it was already pretty messy when we got here,” Jayce shrugged, mindlessly sketching something onto a loose piece of paper. 

“Coffee?” Viktor retrieved the pot from the machine, and the distinct smell of brew reinvigorated your senses. 

“Uh, sure,” you awkwardly floated over to Jayce, “this really couldn’t wait till morning?” 

“No,” Jayce and Viktor said in unison. 

“Right,” you leaned against the counter, “well, fill me in, then.” 

“Yeah, so, we’re not really sure what happened,” Jayce began. 

It was the most bizarre story you’d ever heard.

He was definitely speaking the same language as you, but every time you tried to connect the words together in your head, you figured that he must be speaking something different, because there was no way that this was what he meant to tell you. Intermittently, he would realize how unbelievable it sounded, stop, sigh deeply, and give you an apologetic smile before continuing. By the time he was finished, you were also not really sure what happened. 

You felt yourself zoning out, falling into the weird dreamscape of the story, until a lanky specter passed in front of you on its way to Jayce. 

“You can sit on the counter,” Viktor said, handing you a blue ceramic mug. The coffee was out of date - you could tell from how stale it smelled - but still high quality. Your half-lidded reflection swooshed in the cup.

“And... you said you were... there?” you drew each syllable out, still rotating the story in your head. You set the mug to the side and scooted onto the counter, perpendicular to Jayce so you could recline against the wall. 

“I know it sounds crazy,” Jayce said, accepting a red mug from Viktor, “but it really felt like I was two people at once. Like, little me in the blizzard with my mom, and adult me, just getting up after the explosion.” 

“And little you was an... active participant? Like you weren’t just... watching some old memory happen?” 

“Little me didn’t know that things would end well or that we would get out of that blizzard. I felt all the same feelings that I felt at the time.” 

You bit your lip, thoughtfully at first, but then aggrieved as you came to the obvious conclusion. 

“Jayce...” you inhaled, calling upon what little gentleness you could muster, “don’t take this the wrong way, but... are you high?” 

“No, I’m not high!” 

“Okay, okay,” you conceded, “I was just making sure. Because... I’ve heard of drugs that give you flashbacks like this.”

“It’s...” Jayce huffed, “it’s hard to explain, but I swear it wasn’t a flashback. And me and Vik, who have not taken any drugs,” he emphasized with annoyance, “have corroborating stories.” 

“Oh?” you raised an eyebrow at Viktor as he opened his fridge, which was sparser than it should’ve been.

“Mine was similar,” he said, pulling out some milk and palming the cylindrical sugar container on the counter, “a memory. About the time I saw an enchanted engine on a boat, when I was a teenager. It felt like I was there and here at the same time, almost like... my consciousness was split between them and couldn’t pick one. But I can assure you, it was real.” 

“Enchanted?” you asked, “Like, as in, literally using magic? Isn’t that illegal here?” 

“Piltover, yes. But Zaun is... looser about it,” Viktor slid into the chair next to Jayce and proceeded to suffocate his coffee in milk and sugar. Through the clear measuring cup that he was drinking from, you saw the rich brown color middle into something resembling caramel.

“So,” you took a deep breath, “so the crystal bonked on the floor, and you both experienced these, uh, double realities, with a memory from your past that had something to do with magic?” 

“Yeah, pretty much,” Jayce paused, eyeballing the milk in his own coffee, “milk and sugar?” 

“Nope. Thanks, though.” 

“You take it black?” he said incredulously, as though you’d violated some great social convention.

“I do,” you nodded, taking a sagacious sip, “actually, no, I usually take it with a shot of rum, but black is good too.” 

“Huh,” Jayce’s shock tires, “rum in coffee. That’s a new one.” 

“Remind me to make you a Buhru’s Good Morning sometime.” 

Viktor unsubtly cleared his throat.

“Anyway, we were trying to recreate the collision before you got here,” he gestured to the paper that Jayce was drawing on, which, on closer inspection, was a crude scientific diagram of the impact, “but no luck.Which leads me to believe that this is not something that can be done by accident.” 

“Yeah, and you’re not in the habit of putting hexcrystals in your pocket,” Jayce said. 

“You think someone planted it?” you asked, “‘Cause they’d have to be damn rich to just... lose a hexcrystal like that. Even the decoy ones in Bilgewater don’t run cheap.”

“I’m not certain it is a hexcrystal,” Viktor said, “because I’ve never seen or heard of one doing such a thing before.” 

“Do we have any metrics on the energy for this thing yet?” you fixed the hexcrystal with a distrusting squint, “Because... well, if it really is a double reality that you two experienced, then shouldn’t it be completely sapped?” 

You took another sip of your coffee and slid off the counter, plucking the hexcrystal from the table. 

“May I?” you turned to Viktor. 

“Uh, what are you-” 

“Go for it,” Viktor interrupted Jayce.

Well, it’s his apartment. 

You flicked the crystal lazily. Waves of magic fanned out through the apartment, rattling the cabinets behind you. It was less powerful than a standard hexcrystal, but still healthy. 

“I see your point,” Viktor said.

“So...” you put the hexcrystal back down, trying to shepherd them into admitting the obvious - that what they experienced was not as real as they thought it was. 

“So we’ve gotta hit the books,” Jayce concluded, and you bit back a groan, “this is an irregularity - if it’s happened before, then there will be a record of it.” 

“The Academy Library does not have such records.” 

You got back onto the counter, drinking slowly to quell the urge to throw yourself out the window. 

“No, but...” Jayce’s index finger lilted with excited concentration, “Heimerdinger does.” 

Viktor pursed his lips.

“He would ask us to hand the crystal over to Enforcers,” he said grimly.

“Ah, shit,” Jayce pinched the bridge of nose, pissed at himself for forgetting that detail, “of course. And we’d never see it again.” 

“We’ll need a compelling lie,” VIktor concluded. 

“You guys lie to him a lot, don’t you?” your voice piqued observantly.

Viktor scowled, and you tensely fired up your wit so you’d have a comeback for whatever nasty insult was coming. 

“Yeah, we do,” Jayce admitted before Viktor could say anything, which only made him the new target of Viktor’s ire, “What?! We do.” 

Jayce rolled his eyes. 

“You know it’s more complicated than that,” Viktor argued. 

“Of course, but we still do it,” Jayce sighed, looking at you earnestly, “Heimerdinger is a great leader, but he tends to be... overcautious. He’s seen so much of the worst of magic that it’s the only thing he sees anymore, which can be a bit... stifling.” 

You could tell Jayce was putting in a lot of effort to phrase it kindly. Viktor’s glower softened, and he exhaled. 

“It’s, eh, paradoxical,” he agreed, “Heimerdinger needs an example of what magic can achieve before he will approve of it, but he refuses to allow anyone to make that example in the first place.” 

“So...” you shifted in your seat, “you go behind his back, and the ends always justify the means?”

“Yes.” 

“Pretty much.” 

You raised a judgemental eyebrow. You thought that you were supposed to be the morally compromised one. 

“Look, we don’t like it,” Jayce amended, “which is why he doesn’t find out most of the time. He approves of all the things that we make, he just... doesn’t need to know how we’re making it.” 

“What about the times when he does find out? That hasn’t had any affect on your relationship with him?

“Well...” Jayce’s voice was strained, “not exactly.” 

“This... is a valid concern,” Viktor said, “the professor is unlikely to trust us with his records regardless of the reason we give.” 

“Which he would be right to not do,” you cut in. 

“Irrelevant.” 

“You literally just said it was-” 

“He has given up his stuff before, though,” Jayce cut in, a glimmer of mischief behind his half-smile, “to you,” he pointed at your chest. 

“That’s entirely different,” you said, “those were the journals of my old boss.” 

“And he gave you access to the library too, didn’t he?” Viktor put a finger to his chin, ignoring your earlier point. 

“Still different. That was for maps and stuff.” 

“Of course!” Jayce’s smile was full again, “So you could tell him that you want to look at the maps in his records.” 

“And he would see no reason not to,” Viktor was on Jayce’s wavelength, and it was as if you didn’t even exist anymore, “because you can’t read.” 

“So, let me get this straight,” you rubbed your eyes, “you’re going to resolve this issue, which came about because you kept lying to your professor, by lying to him again?” 

“Exactly,” Jayce didn’t even hesitate.

“There is another problem,” Viktor continued, again, to Jayce and not to you, “Iron Leg’s journals are one thing, but any actual, magical knowledge, he will not permit to leave his office, as is the policy since...” 

“Since you stole Jayce’s journal?” 

“Well, that’s no problem, Penny can just- oh wait, no,” Jayce frowned. 

“Right,” Viktor agreed.

Apparently, they were communicating telepathically now, to ensure that you got even less of a say in this. You cursed your politeness from before and grumbled loudly, finishing off the coffee. 

“We could always...” Jayce tilted his head suggestively. 

“We could,” Viktor nodded, looking at you. You flipped him off, “may be difficult, though.” 

“Nah, she’s smart.” 

“I mean that she won’t want to.” 

“Who wouldn’t want to?” 

“Her.” 

“I’m right here!” you shouted, eyes bulging with indignation. 

Their connection broke curtly, and Jayce finally addressed you with the confidence of someone who had solved world hunger. 

“Right, Penny,” he proposed, “we’re gonna teach you how to read.” 

You froze. Somehow, for better or worse, they exceeded your expectations every time. Jayce was so pleased with himself, his metaphorical tail wagging, while Viktor was just observing, waiting for his prediction to be proven right. 

Well, fuck it, he could be right. 

“I cannot think of a bigger waste of time,” you said. 

“I told you.”

“Well, hold on-” Jayce put his hands up. 

“No,” you said, “there’s got to be a better way to do this. A faster way too. Heimerdinger can’t have the only copy of these in the world.” 

“The faster way that you suggest would be to outsource to Shuriman or Ionia - illegally - which would take at least a month,” Viktor explained, “you, on the other hand, could learn enough material to get by in two weeks, give or take.” 

“Two weeks?” your voice cracked, “Doesn’t this take kids, like, fucking years to learn?” 

“But you’re not a kid,” Viktor said, “and this is a language you already speak, no?” 

“Fucking barely! I didn’t know what an equation was until this month, and now you want me to read ancient magical texts? Ancient texts that may not have the information we need? Are you insane?” 

You surprised yourself with how many valid points you could make. There were many, many reasons why this plan was bad, but deep down, you knew that your apprehension was emotional.

The thought made you nauseous. It was one thing to correct each other in the lab - you all did it for each other, it was expected - but this would put you on a level entirely below them. It would fuck up your dynamic, and when you were so close to being equals with them too. 

And from how fast they’d have to be going to do this in two weeks, you would be learning constantly. 

If you took them up on this, if you really let them teach you something, then it would never be the same. You’d be bad at something in front of them. In front of Viktor. You’d have to let them pick apart every little bit of your mistakes and actually listen when they told you to do something. Once again, you were chipping away at any remnant left from your life in Bilgewater in exchange for all this vulnerability and openness and crap. 

“No. Plan rejected,” you said. 

“Pen, c’mon-” 

“No.” 

*****

Jayce grinned kindly.

“Alright, know any words that start with A?” 

You thought for a minute. 

“Anus.” 

“I-” Jayce blinked, “well, yes, but maybe something a little more appropriate? ‘Ah’ sound, remember?” 

“Operation?” 

“Uh, no... that starts with an O.” 

“But it sounds like ‘ah.’” 

“It does, yes.” 

“Ugh, this is bullshit,” you put your head in your hands, “What’s the point of having an alphabet if nothing sounds the way it’s spelled?” 

Jayce knew from the start that he and Viktor would wear you down eventually. He understood your reluctance; it was infantilizing, and no one likes to be bad at things. You would never admit that, though, so he patiently shot down every critique you had until you were forced to make a choice: admit that you didn’t want to do this because of your feelings or agree to their plan. In all your stubbornness, you took the latter, with the caveat that Jayce and Viktor would try to find alternative solutions in the meantime. 

It had been a day since the hexcrystal explosion, and so far your knowledge of the alphabet was the only thing they’d made progress on. 

“Try consonants,” Viktor said, hunched over a chart of numbers that he was rapidly adding to, watching the hexcrystal surge with keen eyes, “they vary less.” 

Viktor was investigating the energy metrics of the rogue hexcrystal, but such investigation required the gradual sapping of energy over a long period of time, so no breakthroughs yet. At least, none that he’d thought to share, though Jayce often caught his partner muttering to himself and jotting a new thought into the web of notes he was accumulating on the subject. 

You, on the other hand, were simmering with chronic frustration at the portal circuit. 

“There are... just a million things that could go wrong, and I’ve barely scratched the surface of two of them,” you exclaimed this morning, throwing your hands in the air, “and these crusty ass blueprints don’t help. It’s unlikely we’ll ever solve it this way.”

You treated learning to read with the same irritation, but couldn’t find a reason to decline his invitation to practice during lunch. It’s not like he was interrupting anything. 

“Alright, consonants. So, B?” he offered. 

You looked up, running through a mental list of words and quietly sounding the letter out. 

“Bitc- sorry, uh...” you bit your tongue and searched for another word, “Bilgewater.” 

“There you go,” Jayce praised, resisting the temptation to nudge your shoulder, “B is for Bilgewater.” 

You just gave him a dead-eyed stare. 

*****

Another day passed. 

“The crystal presents an interesting quandary,” Viktor pressed his hands together in front of his lips, watching the blue light bob in the stabilizer, “it does not seem to run out of energy at all.” 

“Come again?” you lifted your head up from the circuit you were tweaking and pulled your goggles down.

“Even after two days of use, the energy output is the same.” 

“Wow,” you furrowed your brows, “what’s the standard deviation?” 

“There is none.” 

“That... what?!” 

“It’s the exact same value, every time,” Viktor’s surprise was tame, as he’d seen this happen in slow motion over the last few days, but the awe bending your features was contagious. He scrunched his face into a bewildered frown. 

“That’s never happened before, has it?” 

“Not to my knowledge,” Viktor sighed, “but, that’s what you’re going to find out.” 

“Whatever,” you turned back to what you were doing. Well, now Viktor just had to push your buttons. 

“Ah, whatever - good word,” even Viktor was aware how punchable he sounded, “What does it start with?” 

“I’m not-” 

“So you don’t know?” he challenged.

You blinked, unamused but too foggy to come up with any insults. Viktor held his ground.

Finally, you rolled your eyes and molded your mouth around the first syllable of the word, silently testing its shape against the letters. Your lips were chapped by the cold weather and split on the bottom; two thin red lines crumpled with the roundness of the “wh.” Yet they moved with pillowy softness, reminding him that, underneath all of the dead skin, ran the blood that gave those very lips their color.

“W,” you said, “it starts with W.” 

You tried to turn again.

“And what does it end with?”

“I’m going to end you.” 

“Last question,” he promised, “then you can go back to cursing at the machinery.” 

“If the machinery were more cooperative, then I wouldn’t need to curse at it.” 

“You’re stalling.” 

“It’s R,” you said flatly, “which also stands for: aRe we done here?” 

“‘Are’ starts with A.” 

You clenched your hand into a fist. 

“How does that make any sense?!”

“It doesn’t, but it gets easier to remember with practice,” he said, noticing how you immediately shied away from that suggestion, “Which you should be doing after work.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you grumbled, “well, that’s gonna be kind of hard until I get a new flashlight.”

“Yours is broken?”

“Dead as a doornail. Tried every fix I knew, and nothing.”

“There’s one in my coat pocket,” he said, gesturing towards the wall pegs, “if you want it, it’s yours.”

“Don’t you need a flashlight?”

“Not urgently.”

“Alright, well... I’ll give it back to you when I get a new one,” you didn’t offer it, you said it. 

“As you wish.”

*****

Another day.

“Hey, wait a- you’re pressing too hard, by the way,” Jayce said. 

“I’m concentrating,” you countered, prudently working through the E in ‘Penny.’ 

“Right,” Jayce ceded, “anyway, you said that you’ve signed contracts before.” 

“Yeah,” you looked at him from the side, “what, you think you need to write your name to do that?” 

You released the paper from your pencil’s wrath to lightly scribble something in the corner. 

“To cool for that shit,” you awkwardly moved onto the Ns.

Jayce leaned forward. You clawed your name into being with thick strokes of graphite. It was so deliberate compared to your signature - a crude drawing of a penny, made in one swift, loopy movement. 

“You should keep that signature,” he commented, “it’s better.” 

“I know,” you said, “done.” 

Though you definitely wrote “Penny,” it was far too precise to consider your handwriting. It didn’t fit the way that you wrote your numbers, asperous and spaced out, moving onto the next one before you finished the one you were on, as though your math couldn’t keep up with your thoughts. Your letters, though, were carbon copies of ones that you’d seen in books or on posters - they still belonged to the rest of the world, and you hadn’t made them your own yet. 

“Yeah, that’s all there is to it,” Jayce nodded, “now, it’s just-” 

“Practice?” you said dryly. 

“‘Fraid so.” 

“Blech.” 

“You’ll be writing whole sentences before you know it.” 

“I guess that means you haven’t found any other way to access those records?” you folded the pieces of paper and put it in your pocket, already drifting towards the den of engineering you carved in the lab over the last few days. 

It was weighing on you. Jayce could tell. He always got sucked into his own research, especially when he was vexed by some problem. You weren’t as self-destructive as Jayce or VIktor - at least, not on the surface. You still ate if there was food and got up to stretch and left at a reasonable time so you had at least half a night of sleep.

But mentally? The dissatisfaction burrowed deep in your brain and refused to come out, instead haunting the end of every thought, word, or gesture; marking its territory on your mood so everyone knew. You didn’t even try to hide it, though you refrained from taking it out on anyone. So far. 

When you had something else to focus on, it would fizzle, and you were almost at peace, but you’d inevitably return to the task and protract the cracks in your psyche again. So, in the same way that he would remind Viktor to sleep and Viktor would remind him to get out of the forge before you get heat stroke godsdamnit Jayce, we talked about this- he would nudge you in the direction of a break. 

“Maybe you should take a walk,” Jayce said idly as you plopped down in front of the portal circuit. 

“A walk? How will that help?” you studied one of the wires, trying to figure out if you’d left it like that or if something broke while you were gone. 

“It won’t,” Jayce said, “sometimes it’s just good to take a break, y’know? Clears the head.” 

“I’ll lose my train of thought,” you leaned back in the chair, eyes still trained on the offending object. 

“What train of thought? You just started,” Jayce countered, firm but understanding, “c’mon, get outta here. Take an hour off. It’ll still be there when you get back.” 

“Is that a request or a demand?” 

“It’s a prophecy,” Jayce turned the circuit off. 

“Alright, I’m leaving” you got up, teetering on the edge of an outburst that you knew was unjustified.

“Thank you.” 

“Yeah.” 

You and your salty attitude were out the door without another word. 

“I thought she’d never leave,” Viktor lingered in the doorway of the workshop, watching the door.

“She does work here, Vik.” 

“I’m aware,” Viktor said, turning to Jayce, “I require your assistance. Hope you haven’t lost your knack for fixing tools.” 

“Runs in my blood,” Jayce followed his partner, “whaddya need?” 

*****

Take a walk, godsdamnit. You can take a walk. You’re fucking amazing at taking walks. You’re gonna destroy this walk. Everyone else will be jealous of how good you are at walks. 

The cool dew of the grass nipped at your ankles, and you realized how badly you need this. You felt like a perpetual motion machine - as in, you could not afford to expend energy on anything but a single, tedious cycle, and scientifically, you shouldn’t exist. 

Every detail of the circuit, its functions, and its faults was welded into your brain. Hell, you could control magic better than some mages at this point. But the arcane was uncooperative, strangled by your attempts to command it yet always finding a way to subvert them from its captivity. You had an iron grip with nothing to grab on to, completely in free fall. 

And reading? Perhaps the one thing that could’ve added more stress to your life. You understood that they wanted to help, you really did, but it was just so fucking humiliating sometimes. You were like a godsdamned child every time you messed up, getting that cagey numbness in your face that you’d later identified as suspended fear.

It scared you, being so wantonly wrong. To be wrong about the Hexgates. To be wrong about reading, which was so simple to them. To be wrong about yourself. 

Because, in truth, you kind of liked learning to spell your name. Now you could wield it in every medium. Once you were good enough, you’d have to figure out how to spell your actual name too. 

You’d even entertained the idea of sending that boy from the Undercity a telegram. He probably thought you’d forgotten about him. 

Learning to read still felt traitorous to your station, though. You’d gotten along without reading just fine, but now, you were with rich people, and you were starting to fit in. You knew that you’d need to learn it eventually - the street signs here didn’t have pictures and shopkeepers actually wrote down their prices - but why did it have to be so soon? 

Every single part of your life branched out into something new and time consuming, but it felt aimless. This wasn’t yours, it was some wild growth that you happened to be here for. You needed your own little slice of control back.

Humming. 

You’d walked into the market without  noticing, and this time, the humming had found you. It was her, you knew it was, but you didn’t feel the compulsion to give chase. The humming was getting closer on its own. She was coming your way. 

Finally, you saw her face. And it looked... exactly like you would expect. Low bun with stringy, gray hair framing her round jaw and sea-green eyes. Her withering cheekbones crinkled with long-term sun damage, but her spirit had no signs of wear. Her lips laced together contently, and she was humming “Leave Her, Johnny” with the same timbre that you remembered. 

She walked past you, and you thoughtlessly tapped the shoulder of her black coat.

“Excuse me,” you started, suddenly embarrassed at yourself,  “are you from Bilgewater?” 

She stopped humming, giving you a charmed smile with a missing tooth.

“Why, yes I am! Recognized my song, did ye?” she had the cadence of a storyteller - the welcoming, jubilant kind that could describe swabbing the deck as though it were a wonder of the world. 

“Yeah - ‘Leave Her, Johnny,’ right?” 

“It is, lass,” she nodded, “I must say, it’s mighty good to see another Rat in town.” 

“Yeah,” you concurred, “are... are there any others?” 

“Not living here, no. Traders and the like pass through, but anyone who sticks around is in the Undercity,” she said, “but the tavern keeps me company.”

“Tavern?” 

“Aye, Nelson’s Bloodbag, down on the docks. Sailors spend their leave there, so you’re bound to find at least one of us on a good day,” she paused, and you burned the name of that tavern into your mind, “But you’re here to stay as well? You and I are the lucky ones.” 

“If you could call it lucky,” you chuckled, rubbing the back of your neck. 

“You don’t like it here?” she said, crestfallen. Genuinely disappointed, even, not at you, but at the city.

“Do you?” 

She considered your question, loosening her grip on the wicker basket she was holding. You were aware of how awkward this position was - having a conversation in the middle of a noisy, bustling market - though neither of you were bothered. Perhaps because it felt like home. 

“Piltover and Bilgewater are both very free places,” she mused, “but I heard someone say once that there are different kinds of freedom - freedom from and freedom to. In Piltover, one is free from poverty and gang violence and starvation, and in Bilgewater, one is free to do however they please. I believe I just prefer the former.” 

“Hm,” you flicked your eyes to the ground, “I’ve never thought of it that way. But you’re right, I guess. It’s just perspective.” 

She cocked her head playfully. 

“What’s your name, lass?” 

“Penny.” 

“A pleasure. I’m Pearl,” she offered her calloused hand, which you shook gratefully. 

“I’m not the only other Rat here, by the way,” you said when your hands parted, “there’s a kid. Preteens. His name is Alex.” 

“All on his own?” 

“Yeah...” you sighed, as though this wasn’t the case for millions of other kids. 

“How dreadful. The world can be so cruel at times,” she tutted, before finding it in herself to smile again, softer, “I’ve got to run, dear, but I’d like to have tea with you and the lad sometime, if that’s alright?” 

“Oh,” your eyes widened, “uh, yeah, sure. That sounds good.”

“Wonderful.” 

You exchanged contact information and that was that. She was spirited away by the crowd, and you were lost in a sea of people with your ticket to living in a mansion for the winter.

Two kinds of freedom, you pondered. Would it be too much to ask for both? 

The hexcrystal would probably ask you the same question, the way that it writhed under your control, begging for any leeway to perform beyond its designated task. But you couldn’t let up. 

When did you start to care so much about controlling it? Gods, you sounded like Viktor. You didn’t want to tame it, to force it to bend to your every whim; you just wanted it to work with you. You were one to talk about cooperation, though, when you were still adjusting to being an employee of Hextech rather than a stick up its ass. 

Adjusting to both kinds of freedom. You wondered if the crystal was as finicky as you. But how could you tell when it wasn’t afforded the same... freedom, that’s it!

It would, at least, benefit from a shot, and hell, it could work.

You, Jayce, and Viktor had wasted all this time trying to restrict magic to a little box, of course it wasn’t doing what you wanted it to - you weren’t letting it do anything. In this controlled state, where magic was forced against its own natural order, it didn’t have the freedom to spread equally in the subjects. That’s why the reactions were so irregular, and that’s where your solution lied. 

Screw predictability. It was time to give entropy a shot. 

*****

Viktor liked getting drunk around friends. These people were not his friends, though they were quickly becoming yours. 

“Oh, we’d be a-alright, if we make it round the horn!” you cawed to the sailors. 

“WE’D BE A-ALRIGHT IF WE MAKE IT ROUND THE HORN. WE’D BE A-ALRIGHT IF WE MAKE IT ROUND THE HORN. AND WE’LL ALL HANG ON BEHIND!” 

They drank in your every word like the alcohol that had made them tipsy. A cloud of breath smelling like fish and vinegar hit Viktor in the face every time they howled the chorus. 

“AND WE’LL RO-OLL THE OLD CHARIOT ALONG.” 

Though, he had to admit that their musical coordination was impressive. The way that they split up the parts intuitively, so the melody floated over a haunting harmony, all anchored by a baritone. Viktor kept forgetting that it was just voices - he couldn’t even pick out your vocals from everyone else. You were just a face mouthing words with no sound. 

“WE’LL RO-OLL THE OLD CHARIOT ALONG.” 

The bar was already roaring with throaty shanties by the time that you, Jayce, and Viktor had arrived. Some crew had docked and was looking for an evening of recreation, so it was busier than usual.

“WE’LL RO-OLL THE OLD CHARIOT ALONG.”  

In theory, Viktor was also supposed to be here for recreation. 

After your walk, you’d burst through the door with rare vitality, rambling on and on about how the problem wasn’t the amount of energy but the dispersion of energy, and how that could be remedied by encouraging entropy in the system. 

You attached yourself to the blackboard before Jayce or Viktor could get a word in and scrawled equations next to a crude diagram of the adjustments you thought of. Viktor didn’t think that he’d get to see you so sure of something again - the last time you had this determination was the wave inverter. This almost took him more off guard, because he wasn’t distracted by his own philosophical contemplation about the future of Hextech. 

The future of Hextech was right in front of him, on that blackboard written by your hands, and beside him, as Jayce implemented your suggestions on the circuit, following your train of thought before you’d finished explaining it. Viktor busied himself with checking your math over your shoulder, noting that you’d actually begun to use variables now that you were familiar with the concept of letters.

The three of you slaved over that circuit for the rest of the afternoon, modifying it to your exact specifications. Viktor had his doubts, and he assumed Jayce did as well, but conviction deterred them from bringing it up. They could afford taking this chance. 

Viktor remembered how you held your breath on the first trial run. And how the tension burst when you exhaled, melting into a smile because it worked. 

“Holy shit, this is gonna go to my head,” you had muttered, looking over your notes with a pleased expression. 

You tried to be subtle about it. Jayce did not. And that was why, hazy with discovery and well into the evening, he suggested that you three go out on the town that night. 

“To celebrate,” he said, “and... you’ve been a pretty good sport about everything this week. Maybe I can finally taste that drink you were talking about.” 

You already had a bar in mind. 

“Oh, yeah... name is a bit intimidating, but I’ve heard of the place.” 

“Nelson’s blood is rum, Jayce.” 

Viktor knew he didn’t have to come, but when was the last time that he and Jayce really celebrated something? Making the Hexgates was playing the long game, yielding slow, steady progress instead of explosive milestones. It was probably better like that, but having major breakthroughs was fun in a way that no baby step could ever be. He missed the feeling, and he was not going to miss the opportunity to indulge in it.

Even if their night on the town was steeped in your version of fun. 

“AND WE’LL ALL HANG ON BEHIND.” 

Jayce was enjoying himself, tapping his foot to the melody and being absolutely fascinated with the change of scenery. People from Piltover were prone to finding anything imperfect, but still respected by its inhabitants, exceptionally curious, because they would never respect such a locale. 

Viktor envied that ability. There was nothing charming in the splinters dangling from the wooden walls and the chairs that wobbled when someone nudged them. The tepid lighting unmasked every scratch and dent and stain on the tables, even as new ones were being made that evening.

It wasn’t not-charming either, just nothing new. The same, squalid bar infested with rats but rich in booze that you could find in Zaun, wearing a different coat of paint. The only thing in here worth observing was you.

“Well, a nice watch below wouldn’t do us any harm!” you lead them into the next verse. 

You were purposefully artless when you sang, because you were doing it to participate, not to perform. It was annoyingly human. You weren’t even drunk yet, just high on sailor camaraderie, with the mutual agreement that having a fun evening was more important than potential embarrassment. 

After Viktor had fought tooth and nail to take it from you everywhere else, you just tossed your pride out the window. And getting rid of it made you all the more invincible. 

You were glowing. 

Eventually, you stepped away from the shanties to actually drink what you ordered, propping your legs up on the table and sending Jayce towards the bartender. 

“I have something for you,” Viktor said once Jayce was out of earshot. He figured now was as good a time as any. 

“If you ask me how to spell a word I’ll throttle you.” 

“No, nothing like that,” Viktor fished your knife out of his pocket, “I found it.” 

It looked brand new, like you’d just modified it yesterday. Jayce wasn’t kidding - polishing the blade really worked wonders. 

“Oh,” you accepted it from him, softening your cheekbones in revelation, “you fixed it.” 

“Jayce helped.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” you twirled the blade through your fingers, inspecting his work skeptically, as though he was trying to trick you.

“I lost it. It was the least I could do.” 

Your lips tightened into a satisfied, but withholding, line. 

“Well, while we’re at it,” you said as the knife returned to its home on your belt, swapping it out for his flashlight, “you can have this back. I got a new one.” 

“I already told you you could keep it. Scrap it for parts or something,” Viktor pushed it towards you.

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes. And this was not part of our agreement,” he said, “which I hope you have not forgotten about.”  

He knew you hadn’t. The avoided eye contact, the pointless remarks, the pauses - you were dreading it this whole conversation.  

“Yeah,” you inhaled, putting the flashlight back, “okay, you deserve an explanation.” 

You swiped your drink from the table and downed half of it. Viktor grimaced, watching the ice bobbing in his whiskey sour - not his beverage of choice, but he refused to have a bunch of sailors mocking him should he order something sweeter. 

You rolled your shoulders. 

“So, I guess I was kinda having a rough day,” you started. 

“No shit.” 

“Yeah,” you nodded, silently accepting that you maybe deserved that, “Looking back, not my best moment, but what can ya do? What else are you supposed to do when you...” you bit your lip, “well, I guess I felt like I was losing myself, sort of.”

You picked at a knot of wood on the table. 

“I meant what I said, y’know, about how I’m not like you...” you paused, “cause I’m not. You... you and Jayce, you guys operate on such a large scale, and it’s... well, look at me. Where I come from, making sure that you wake up next morning is a full time job. And now... water is free and I have a place to sleep and enough to eat, and that should feel good, but... but gods, I feel like a piece of shit. I think about all those lives I could change, who were living just like I was a few weeks ago, and I feel sick to my stomach. I’m not... I’m not supposed to be here,” you swallowed thickly, “and I guess that shit just got to me. I lost it for a little bit, and I thought that maybe, if I could just end that circuit, y’know, make a new, immediate problem so I wouldn’t have to think about this crap anymore, then I could calm the fuck down or something.” 

Oh.

“So you’re just insecure?” Viktor said plainly. 

“Wh- no! I’m not unsure about how I am, I know exactly who I am. I’m not a good person, Viktor,” you ended the sentence with his name and he nearly flinched at it, “and I’m fine with not being a good person because at least I still get to be a person, but...” 

You trailed off, taking another long sip and wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. 

“You were right about me - remember? Before I gave you a free shoeshine, and you said that someone like me could never understand? Well, fuck, I guess I can’t,” you grumbled.

You were reverting back into your guarded self, gaze tunneling into your drink. Viktor had to think of something to say - quickly - before he lost you. 

“You realize that when I said that, I still thought you were going to murder me in cold blood?” his tone was sharp, “I did not think I would need to tell you that my observations have... changed. If anything, I wish I was correct when I said that, because the fact that you do actually understand what we are trying to do and still hate it is what makes you such a damn nuisance.” 

“Thanks,” you rolled your eyes, leaning your head back and finishing what was in your mug. Unfortunately for you, Viktor was not finished.

“No, what you are having trouble understanding is that no one is supposed to be anywhere. You were not meant to be born a Bilge Rat anymore than the inhabitants of Bluewind Court were meant to be born Piltovians.”

“Well duh, but obviously we’ve grown into the people who we are since then. There’s no getting around that.” 

“No, there isn’t,” Viktor granted, “but you have no obligation to keep being you were in Bilgewater. I certainly did not stay the boy I was in the Undercity - that boy was never supposed to be anything either.”

“That’s different. You always wanted to do stuff like this, your external circumstances just changed. Me?” you gestured to your chest, “It’s like, who I am a person.” 

“And you don’t think you can change that?” 

“Never really thought about it,” you shrugged, “but, given how things are going, I’d say it’s not likely.” 

“Not so long ago, it was unlikely that you would figure out the issue with the Hexgate,” he countered dryly, permitting himself some of his own drink. 

You pursed your lips, about to say something, but held back when you saw Jayce approaching from the bar. Instead, you opted to let the words settle, like sand at the bottom of the ocean, a curious perk lining your brow. 

“Alright,” Jayce plopped down two bottles, a coffee pot, and a small dish of cream in front of you, “work your magic.” 

Once again, Viktor had that nasty habit of finding humor in your circumstances. He’d never let the world crush his idealism as a kid, even if it was not designed for him. Meanwhile, you cheated the death of your body, heart, and ego on the daily, only to have your conscience worn down into the shadow of the person you could’ve been.

You laid the ingredients out in front of you, taking Jayce’s empty mug. 

“Okay, Buhru’s Good Morning - so named for the indigenous people of the Serpent Isles. Pay attention,” you commanded, “it goes...” you plucked the coffee pot from the table, “coffee.” 

Viktor found your situation... not sad, nor pathetic, because you weren’t those things. 

“Coffee liqueur,” you drizzled it in. 

Disheartening. That was the word. He spent more time that he’d care to admit wondering how many great contributions to the world were lost by situations like your own. Desperate ones. 

“Rum,” you added a hearty shot. 

But you didn’t look desperate anymore. You were grinning slightly as you instructed Jayce, scrunching your nose with discerning content each time you were satisfied with your measure. Maybe it was because the ambiance brought you so close to Bilgewater. 

“And then you put the whipped cream on top,” you dolloped it briskly, letting it melt into the rich brown like marshmallows in hot chocolate. You leaned one elbow on the table and cheekily pushed it towards Jayce. 

Jayce brought the mug to his lips, smelling it before giving a tentative gulp. You watched. 

“Damn,” he smacked his lips, “that is good.” 

“Told you,” you began to mix another.

Or maybe it was because you could share Bilgewater with someone else. 

“Vik, you gotta try this,” Jayce took a greedy second gulp.

“Eh, no thanks,” Viktor pulled his own drink closer, “besides isn’t it, not... y’know, tough enough for this place?” 

“What do you mean?” you asked, too busy with your creation to spare a glance. 

“I mean sailors- they are hard drinkers, yes? Something, something, and a bottle of rum and all that,” he waved his hand vaguely.

“First of all, on ships, rum is stored in barrels,” you swished your mug around, “but, more importantly, it tastes like garbage. It’s just there to get you drunk, not to taste good.”

You set your drink down so your hands were free to make tipsy gestures.

“You really think that sailors, especially pirates, who are known for their decadence, would go months at sea drinking that crap and then come back and order the same thing at a tavern? Nah, they want fancy ass cocktails,” you pointed over your shoulder with your thumb, “I’ll bet you that most of those guys are having something you would not consider a ‘hard drink.’ And apparently Iron Leg was a fan of Mai Tais.” 

Jayce chortled into his mug. You scanned your bartending setup.

“Last chance, Viktor. You sure you don’t want some?” you said. 

“Ah, I’m not really fond of straight coffee,” he confessed.

“Yeah, I noticed.”

“But I am open to recommendations.” 

You relaxed into a wide, impish smile. 

“I have a few ideas.” 

The night blurred. 

Viktor drowned the hours in dark, canorous rum with a drink that you called “Fortune Teller’s Punch.” You were all on the edge of getting shitfaced, incredibly loose in your joints and inhibitions. Sober enough to still have a mind and drunk enough to be unafraid of speaking it.

At one point, you’d thrown up, coming back with a complaint about how bitter that mojito was. 

Your voice never lost the air of music, making your exaggerated retellings of sea adventures positively mesmeric. You were more talkative when drunk, which was great, because Viktor could have listened to you for hours. Some of your tales were quite beautiful. 

Though by the time Viktor was on his fourth, maybe fifth, drink, the comfortable conversation had devolved into witless repartee. 

“‘N so,” you burped, “Two-Dick Amos decided that today was gonna be the day that he mutinied.” 

“Pfffff,” Jayce sprayed spit across the table, “did he... did he have two...” he lowered his voice, “penises?” 

“Nahhh,” you waved him off theatrically, “that would be craaaaazy. He was called Two-Dick because his full name was Richard Richard Amos.” 

“More like Richard Richard Anus,” Jayce giggled. 

“DonOT interrupt the sssstory Jayce Phallus,” Viktor slammed his hands on the table, oblivious to what he just said. 

You wheezed.

“What?!” he said.  

“Nothin’... Dicktor.” 

Jayce wheezed. And finally, Viktor caught up and wheezed. 

Wiping a tear from your eye, you gathered the composure to continue the story.

“Kay, but the captain of the ship that he mutinied was actually his dad. But he didn’t know because his dad left his mom before he was born.” 

Jayce’s smile dropped.

“He never knew his father?” he asked softly.

“Nope!” you slammed your mug on the table, suddenly fascinated with how you could make it wobble. 

Viktor, sensing his friend’s distress, clapped a hand on Jayce’s shoulder. 

“Jayce,” he slurred, “your father wouldbe... ssssoproudofyou.” 

Jayce swallowed Viktor in a bear hug, spilling some booze on the floor. Viktor rested his chin on Jayce’s bicep and kept nursing his drink. 

“So would yours, Viktor.” 

Viktor’s dad was alive and hated him, but Viktor would let Jayce have this one. 

Jayce left to get some air after that, steadying himself by gripping Viktor’s shoulders. Viktor dumbly looked at his knuckles, and his eyes were glued to the door long after Jayce stumbled out of it. 

“Ooooooooh,” you teased, “you- VikTOR.” 

“What?” he said, still looking at the door. 

“Do you... like looking at Jayce?” 

“I was jus’” Viktor turned and shrugged, “makin’ sure he got there safe.” 

“Out the door?” 

“S’dangeorus,” he said, “an’ Jayce is so young. He can’t die yet.” 

“You’re the same age.” 

“I won’t let him die,” Viktor babbled, “he-” 

“Kay. Listen. I’m gonna ask you a question,” you leaned in, and Viktor smelled the citrus and rum staining your breath, “I have a question.” 

“I have those sometimes,” Viktor nodded understandingly. 

“You n’ Jayce, are you guys,” you deepened your voice seductively, “lovers?”

Viktor choked, grabbing his chest and spewing booze on the table. 

Well of course you would figure it out eventually. It was a scientific law at this point - the longer you two spent together, the greater the chance that something embarrassing would surface. 

He cleared his throat, more tired than usual. 

“...no...” 

“Bullshit,” you spat.  

“No, it’s not,” he insisted, “we are not... in a relationship.” 

“Oooooh,” you nodded, “one sided, then?” 

“Wh- no.” 

“Cause there are other fishes in the sea. ‘Specially for a guy like you,” you made finger guns at him.

“It’s not- wait whatthehell does that mean?” 

“I lived in a brothel for a year,” you paused, contemplating your phrasing, “not for sex. I was 12. I did house chores. But anyway, I think I’m qualified to say that if YOU,” you pointed at him, “were a prostitute, you’d make a lot of money.” 

“Really?” Viktor laid his head on the table, looking at you from the side, “Thhhhankyou.” 

“Whassa deal with Jayce?” you interrogated. 

“Nothin’. Jus’ had a crush on him once. Like everyone else in Piltover.” 

“But yoooooouu said it wasn’t one sided.” 

“Wasn’t. But I did not pursue the relationship,” crafting long sentences was hard, all of a sudden. 

“PusSY!” 

“It would not... have been fair to Jayce.” 

“Oh my gods, that’s so lame,” you rested your chin on the edge of your mug, rolling your eyes coquettishly, “haven’t you ever heard that all is far n’ love n’ war?” 

“Whoever said that has never loved anyone,” he was serious. 

“Just admit that you cockblocked yourself and...”

Your last few words were jumbled. 

“Wh-?” Viktor tired to ask for clarification, but he could no longer avoid the weight of his eyelids. 

“Hellooooooo? Anyo...” 

Your hand - at least, that’s what he thought it was - waved in front of his face. He looked at it through slits.

“Viktor?” 

His limbs were weak. He succumbed to the sudden heaviness of his body and slumped forward on the table. He needed to rest. 

“Viktor!”

And the world faded to black.

*****

None of you were that drunk. 

You knocked over the chair when you stood up and grabbed Viktor’s wrist, digging into it with your fingers. A pulse. You studied his unconscious body. His chest rose and fell, not in a sleepy, peaceful way, but in a feisty, disoriented, almost erratic breathing pattern, like he was fighting himself to stay awake. At least he was alive. 

Hell, you’d made half his drinks for him, you knew they weren’t too strong. You were still semi-conscious, and you weren’t a great drinker either. But now it was hard to gauge; the warm buzz of your senses blending together was replaced with thundering adrenaline. 

Something was wrong. Viktor should not be passing out. 

You lost yourself in the citrus orange color of his drink. Dazed, you bent forward and took a whiff. Despite your dulled perception, you winced at the barbed odor curling through your nostrils and infesting the roof of your mouth. You felt sick. 

Oh no. Oh no, no, no, no, no, no, no. 

With a trembling hand, you flexed your pinkie finger and dipped it into the drink. You twitched at how cool it was, soothing, even, as though it was inviting you to swim in it. You sucked the liquid from your finger. 

Your face twisted as the bitter taste writhed on your tongue, like acid corroding metal. You recognized it. 

But who would- 

“So, you figured it out.” 

The end of a pistol pressed into your back. You stiffened, eyes dead ahead. The bar was empty. When the fuck did everyone leave?

“Look,” you attempted to growl, but it came out tired, “take what you want n’ go. I won’t stop you.” 

“As the lady wishes,” the prickled, salty voice was smiling. 

The pressure left your back. You turned around. 

He was young, but hiding it behind a beard. That had to be the reason for how unshaven he looked, because he was not lazy. The freshly polished wooden rims of his pistol and the properly stowed cutlass at his belt told you that he was as meticulous as they come. Probably the one who thought to drug the drinks. 

Then why wasn’t yours drugged?

Two people went around his back and flanked Viktor, still unconscious. Your heart plunged into your stomach. 

“Him?!” you asked- pleaded with the pirate. 

“‘Fraid so,” he hooked his free hand in the loop of his belt. 

“But- but he doesn’t have anything. No one’s gonna pay his ransom, he’s-” you were inching closer, and the pirate bashed your wrist away with the butt of his gun. 

You recoiled with a low, nauseous grunt, refusing to acknowledge the pain blooming up your arm. 

“Make this easy on yourself and run,” he gestured towards the door with his gun. He wasn’t even taunting, just honest, like a tired employee, “he’ll live.” 

So, you ran.

*****

Jayce felt like goo. The only part of him that had any sensation left was his face, throbbing with a fresh black eye.

They’d jumped him outside - he saw the shine of the asshat’s chrome teeth, and then the woman with large hoop earrings and enough muscles to snap Jayce in half pounded him in the head. Jayce knew that he shouldn’t go down that easily, but the fatigue that was toiling in his core finally overflowed to everything else, rendering him as vicious as a newborn. 

He was a heavyweight. He had less than he normally would, too, because he had to see his mother tomorrow morning. He wasn’t that drunk, and he knew it. 

But he didn’t have time to think. They’d kicked him against the pavement like a wayward stone. 

! Trigger Warning (read the notes) !

Crunch. The heel of a boot ground against his shoulder. 

He felt himself getting lightheaded from the blood loss. The moon, shining down onto the decrepit alleyway and Jayce’s panting face, blurred into a white wisp lost in navy blue. 

Thwack. That was his calf. Shit. Own. Fuck. 

What the hell did they even want? They hadn’t asked for his wallet, and if he was supposed to be unconscious then they would’ve gone for the head again. He didn’t even see guns on them, though he could barely see now. 

Splat. That wasn’t him. Something heavy was forced down onto the pavement.

He reared his head to the side and saw a silhouette crouched on top of the man with chrome teeth like a frog, as though they had used him as a landing pad. The man was splattered against the pavement like spilled milk and out cold. 

The woman jerked her knee under the silhouette’s jaw, and they reeled back. She got closer, looming over them, when the silhouette clawed forward and jolted their right leg into the woman’s crotch. 

She gasped. Her thighs clenched around the foot as she tried to pry it off, but a dagger sparked into her meaty hands. And then she wailed.

Hooking the dagger in deeper, the silhouette hauled themselves up like a firecracker and used their inertia to headbutt the woman. 

In her stupor, she let go of the foot, and the silhouette slid the dagger from her hands so they could mercilessly delve it into the woman’s right eye. 

The dagger twisted. She convulsed her last breath. 

Satisfied, the silhouette tugged the knife out. The woman’s lifeless body fell forward, collapsing against their chest and chipping a fountain of blood onto their clean shirt. They tossed her against the wall, and Jayce finally got a good look at their face. 

Oh, thank fuck, it was you. 

He also got a good look at the woman’s face - a red, sinewy cave where her right eye once was, while her left was glassy with dread. Her skin was already pallid. Jayce felt more nausea churning. 

! Trigger Warning !

“Ah shit,” you kneeled down, pulling Jayce up from behind by his collarbone so he could vomit while sitting up. 

You rubbed his back robotically. 

Once the gesier of stomach acid finished, he was weak again, and leaned back into you.

“No, no, no, we gotta get up,” you hoisted his arm around your shoulder and tried to stand with him, but he wasn’t budgingg, as though gravity had tripled. 

“Can���t,” he mumbled, blinking at the woman’s corpse. Vomit preened in the back of his throat again, but you released his shoulder and grabbed his face with both of your hands, forcing his eyes away from her. 

A bruise welled on your jaw, right where the woman had kneed you, and the scraped skin on your hands tickled. But you looked okay, even better than okay, like you were born with a face sculpted for this one stern, yet worried, expression. There was serenity in how effortless it was to pull it. How effortless it was to murder. 

“Did... did you land on top of that guy?” Jayce slurred. 

“Yeah. Jumped from there,” you tilted your head towards a story-high parapet on the tavern building. 

“Ssssshit,” his head sunk back into darkness, but you held his face even tighter.

“Stay with me. Do you remember drinking anything, like... bitter?” 

“Mhm,” Jayce said weakly. Some apple cider spinoff, with rum of course  He thought that was how it was supposed to taste. Apparently not. 

Getting the shit kicked out of him might’ve been what kept him conscious so far. 

“Okay,” you swallowed, “listen to me. You were drugged. And we need to go now, because if they come out here and find both of their guys dead, they are going to turn us into chum. How can I help you stay awake?” 

“Vik...” the rest of the name died in his mouth. 

“Viktor is...” you faltered, the alarm in your eyes dimming as you peered at the bloody pavement, only to burn straight through his cloudy vision like lanterns when you felt his head slacken in your hands. 

Clap. The sting of your wallop ate his cheek. His eyelids opened wider. 

Your lips twitched apologetically, but you didn’t say anything. Though, as Jayce registered all of the pain on his person, he noted that you had selected the cheek on the other side of his black eye, and that you were holding it like porcelain. 

“They got him too. In there. But he’s going to be fine,” you insisted, “they said he’ll live.” 

“An’ you believed ‘em?” Jayce did not have the strength to sound exasperated. 

“I don’t have a choice,” you hissed, “and neither do you. We have to go.” 

You tried to get his arm on your shoulder again, but he went limp. You sighed. 

“Jayce, they have guns. They will kill us. It’s pointless to stay here,” you argued, “please. Trust me.” 

Jaynce sniffled. His nostrils were congested with the scent of copper.  

“We do,” he said dumbly, finally giving in. 

Something weakened in you. You offered no support to Jayce as he lugged himself up by the brick wall, though you didn’t crumble under his weight either. For a minute, you were as spaced out as he was. 

He shifted from relying on the wall to you, and you pulled yourself together. You grunted, holding onto his arm so tightly that your nails dug into his flesh. You shambled out of the alley and into the open air of the docks. Jayce’s foot crushed something soft. 

“The fuck?” a snowflake nestled in your hair as you raised an eyebrow at the fresh layer of white blanketing the port, “is that coke?” 

Jayce rolled his head back and let the idle snowflakes numb his face. 

“Snow,” he corrected, relaxing his head forward. 

“Oh.” 

Your hollow eyes drank in the picture of snow smoothly falling into the choppy ocean. Jayce couldn’t tell if you were lost in thought, or just lost, but as more snowflakes hugged your eyelashes the unrest whirling behind your expression became less cooperative. 

Everything was quiet except for the gentle plodding of your boots. 

And then, further up the docks, you let go of his arm without warning. 

“Damnit,” you said under your breath, settling Jayce’s back against the side of a building in another, smaller alleyway, “stay here. If anyone tries to fuck with you, yell. And keep yourself awake.” 

Jayce leaned into the concrete, watching you follow the disappearing bootprints back to the light spilling out from the tavern door. And then he was alone. 

He didn’t need to injure himself to stay awake. The shock of panic when he saw the chrome toothed man walking out of the previous alley minutes later, very much alive and with a cutlass bared, was enough. Jayce scooted around the corner, observing with one cautious eye. 

But the chrome toothed man wasn’t after him. He was hiding outside the tavern doorway. 

*****

Voices curdled overhead. Viktor recognized none of them. He felt like he was hungover and drunk at the same time. 

His head was against a table. Had he fallen asleep at the lab again? No, it smelled like rotting wood and alcohol. He was as present as a raindrop in an ocean, and all he wanted to do was reseal his eyes and go back to dreamless sleep. 

“Or, we could just kill you.” 

Maybe he should be listening to this. He opened his eyes, finding the back of a rail-thin man with a gun resting in the crook of his elbow, talking to... you. 

You looked worse. Not quite sober, if the lack of coordination in your fingers resting on your hip was anything to go by. A bruise shadowed your jaw, your hair was damp, and there was a patch of drying blood on your shoulder. None of this bothered you. You were perfectly comfortable haggling with the gun toting man, backed up by two large masses on either side of Viktor. 

“You could,” you said, “but, see, I already called the Enforcers, and unless you plan to fight them all off, you’re gonna need someone to radio in and tell ‘em that it was a false alarm. So, how about this? Fuck you, pay me.” 

“Alright, jeez,” the man conceded, stepping forward and pulling a small pouch of coins from his vest pocket, “take it and scram.” 

Thousands of emotions, none of which he had the energy to process, burst through the floodgates. He couldn’t even scold himself for being surprised. If you’d been playing the game this long, planning to sell them out from the start, he was impressed. Scared for his life, but impressed. 

You had the nerve to give him a side glance as you stretched your arm out to accept the coins. 

Viktor prepared to use his last ounce of control to glare at you, but before he could, the animal sleeping in your reflexes woke up. 

! Trigger Warning (yes, again) !

You snatched the man’s wrist and yanked him towards the floor, pushing a blade - your knife, already dirty - out from your sleeve and guiding it into his throat. 

The pistol rattled on the floor. 

Someone was moving. A flash of a woman loading a gun, her hair tied back in a striped bandana, came from Viktor’s right. You slid the knife out and hurled it over the corpse’s head. It found a new home in Stripes’ knee.

She howled. 

With your other hand, you scooped the gun from the pistol from the floor and pointed it at the thick, metallic sounds on Viktor’s right. Viktor saw their hands, fishhooks in place of fingers, loading a shotgun frantically. 

Click.

You smacked the side of the pistol. Empty. Distress sunk in your cheeks for just a moment. 

You chucked the empty gun at Fishhooks, who winced against the snap of a bone. A boom and a tornado of gunpowder veered to the side, leaving a smattering of black dust dangerously close to Viktor’s shoe. 

While he was disoriented, you dove, tackling him to the ground for the shotgun. His hooks raked across your face, giving you what looked like a severe cat scratch. 

Viktor never felt so helpless, and he refused to bear it any longer when he heard the determined moan of Strips pulling the knife from her knee. The hammer of her blunderbuss whacked into place. 

Viktor deliriously nudged your ribs with his foot. 

You didn’t check to confirm. Releasing Fishhooks from your grip, you rolled to the side, and the crack of a chunky bullet missed you by a hair. 

You dragged the nearest table to the floor, crushing Fishhooks underneath and using it as a makeshift cover from the next bullet, which grazed your arm. 

The bottles on the table fell, and shards of broken glass fluttered through the noise. 

Viktor almost fainted when you hooked an arm around his waist and drew him down with you, haphazardly propping him behind the table. Another bullet whizzed overhead. 

Fishhooks stirred. You needed a gun if you were going to win this. 

Viktor pressed his arm against your side and used his good leg to roll an empty bottle in your direction. You understood, grabbed the bottle by its neck, and slammed it on Fishhook’s head. 

Footsteps approached your cover. 

“Shit,” you muttered, cradling the shotgun.  

You had no time to reload. The barrel of a blunderbuss peaked over the table. 

Thunk. 

You shoved the table forward with your shoulder. The gun fired over the curve of your back. The table fully capsized, colliding with the floor and pinning Stripes underneath. Her gun skittered out of reach. 

She squirmed. Viktor piled his weight on the table at your side. 

You retrieved a shotgun shell from Fishhook’s body, loaded it into the barrel, pressed it between Stripes’ eyes, and blew her face to hell. 

Viktor’s ears keened and his eyes wound shut. The only reminder of the world was the feeling of the table getting lighter when the recoil of the gun knocked you back. 

The ringing in his ears was too loud, and time dilated. 

The next thing he knew, he was sitting up against one of the support beams with you in front of him. Maybe he’d hit his head too hard, but you looked angelic in the destruction. Not like you were above all of it, but a part of it. The part for him. 

The patron saint of this mess. 

You were gently brushing his hair back, checking the injuries he’d sustained on his head. Behind you was Fishhooks’ dead body, a new shotgun injury in his face - probably something you did for good measure. 

You did all of this. You tore this tavern apart. For him. 

“Alright, let’s get outta here,” you said, scooting to the side and getting his arm around your shoulder, while you put yours around his middle.

If you were facing each other, it would’ve looked like dancing. 

You stretched forward and retrieved his cane, which he hadn’t even seen, offering it to him patiently. There was no rush, after all. 

“Snow,” Viktor said when you made it to the door. 

“Yea-” 

Schwing. 

Steel sliced through the night, and he was pushed to the floor again. 

*****

You ducked under the sharp glint of the cutlass. But you weren’t fast enough. 

It hacked at the lower half of your right ear. That weightless part of you became even lighter, and the cold wind bit into a new crevice on your neck. The same cold numbed it enough for you to stay focused, unsheathing your knife and blocking the next strike. 

The same man you’d landed on. You recognized the tattoo of a storm cloud on his forehead. He was supposed to be dead. You heard bone crack. 

Your bloody, dismembered earlobe laid in the snow, moonlight twinkling on your faux gold earring. 

He tried again. The wetness between your blades from the crushed snowflakes loosened the tension, and his cutlass slipped. 

Perfect. 

You moved in, batting the crystalline white from your eyelashes. The harder you held the knife the less you could feel your fingers; the tips were reduced to dull, painful tingling. 

Ding. He parried, then tried to slash forward, but your blade hugged his like tide on the rocks, counteracting with enough force to stop it. 

You darted up the docks, trading fast, close strikes, metal singing above the rumbling in the ocean. The technique of a pirate balanced with the instinct of a survivor. Sweat dripped from your brow. Despite the weather, you felt a familiar fire lick at your heels and hot coals roar in your blood. 

You were going to light this man’s funeral pyre. 

Thunk. 

His hand. That was supposed to get his hand. But your blade wobbled against it. 

Your blades crossed and you turned to glimpse wat the flesh you’d ripped from his arm was hiding. Metal. This man had a fucking metal bone. 

His free hand shifted. You turned, and the outline of a fist zoomed in. 

Crunch. You saw white. 

Warmth oozed from your nose. You rolled your face with the punch, like you used to practice, letting it twist your neck and give you free rhinoplasty. 

He was facing forward and his back was open. You jammed the blade into his spine. Thunk. Metal spine. 

He spun and parried again, your positions reversed. He licked his lips, framing metal teeth, and you finally noticed that the tattoo on his head was not, in fact, a storm cloud, but worn away skin exposing a metal skull. 

His entire fucking skeleton was metal. Protecting him from your aerial attack, as well as any other attempt to wound him. How the fuck were you gonna do this?

He lunged, and you blocked, moving your heel back. It found a clear, wet cobblestone. 

The steadiness in your legs gave in to the icy surface of the pavement and you fell. More pain exploded in the back of your head and cold snow burned your exposed skin.  

The tread of his boot squished down your stomach. You lost your breath. 

Barely lifting your head up, you stabbed his heel, pulled yourself forward, jerked the knife out, and stabbed again into his upper thigh, giving him a push, knocking him down. 

You rolled on top and felt the warm light of the lamp hanging outside the tavern on your back - that must’ve been what melted the snow on the cobblestone. You raised your blade. 

He grabbed your wrist and threw you to the side. He was stronger. Fuck.

Both of his hands pressed you to the ground as he scanned you hungrily, flat end of the cutlass against your skin. He was trying to maneuver just one hand to keep you down so his other could end you. 

You struggled, grasping at his sides with your hands. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Viktor leaning against the door of the tavern, either dead or asleep. Under the roof of the tavern was the lamp, and a puddle of melted snow. 

He got closer, exerting all of his body weight on you, and you couldn’t distinguish the metallics of his blood and bone. 

But bone isn’t everywhere.

You wrenched your teeth around his nose and bit like a dog, ripping the cartilage clean off. You spat it back in his face and he flinched, giving you leeway to shove him against the tavern and into the puddle. 

He flailed in the water, his ruined arm and exposed bone pawing for his weapon. 

Puddle. Metal. Water. If only...

The flashlight. You snatched it from your belt, turned it on, broke the protective case against the ground, and shanked it into his arm. 

The electricity crackled, and you closed your eyes until the noises of a man getting electrocuted to death stopped. 

After a minute, the stench of burning flesh coaxed you down from your adrenaline high, and you saw the body. Bubbling welts of flesh ate him alive. He wasn’t even recognizable anymore. 

You heard your own panting, and finally remembered to take the flashlight out of his arm. You scooted back. Being under the roof didn’t feel good any more. A snowflake tickled your nose. 

! Trigger Warning !

It was over. Viktor and Jayce would be okay. You would be okay. 

You were a kid again. Unfathomable violence was automatic to your existence - all that you had ever known, and all that you would ever be. Some things don’t change. Even the ocean, your old friend, was violent and unruly on that night. 

But it was snowing. You’d never seen that before, except in dreams. 

~ End Notes ~

Trigger Warning Summary 1: Penny jumps on the first guy and kills him on impact, then murders the second guy and gets kneed in the jaw while doing so. Jayce watches, sees the corpse, and this makes him nauseous.

Trigger Warning Summary 2: Penny takes the leader by surprise and stabs him in the throat. She then chucks her knife at one attacker - Stripes - and tries to shoot the other - Fishhooks - with the leader's pistol, but the pistol is empty. She wrestles Fishhooks to the floor, Viktor notifies her that Stripes is about to shoot, so she pulls a table and Viktor to the floor so they can both hide behind cover. Viktor gives her a bottle and she breaks it over Fishhook's head. Stripes is about to shoot over their cover, so she and Viktor knock over the table and pin her to the ground. She loads the shotgun and shoots Stripes in the face. Viktor blacks out for a bit, during which she also shoots Fishhooks in the face to be sure. She checks Viktor for injuries. When they are about to leave, the chrome toothed man tries to decapitate her. She pushes Viktor to the floor and dodges, but her earlobe gets sliced off. They trade blows and she discovers that he has a metal skeleton, making him near impossible to kill. She slips on snow and the man stomps on her stomach. She drags him down with her, but he comes out on top. She bits his nose and pushes him into a puddle. Realizing that she can electrocute him with Viktor's flashlight, she does just that. He dies.

Safety Information: The portrayal of date rape drugs here is NOT accurate to real life. It's loosely based off of chloral hydrate drops which have not been used since the 1920s. With modern date rape drugs, you CANNOT TASTEL, OR SEE THEM. You can find more info and steps to take if you think you've been drugged here.

Stuff that I Think Is Cool: In case anyone was wondering, the rum-based drinks are inspired by real ones. Buhru's Good Morning is Jamaica Coffee and Fortune Teller's Punch is Planter's Punch

End Credits Song (the one they sang in the bar): Roll the Old Chariot Along by David Coffin

#viktor x reader #viktor arcane x reader #viktor arcane #viktor #viktor x you #enemies to lovers #slow burn #viktor x y/n #arcane x reader #jayce talis #mel medarda #mel #caitlyn #jayce #waves on the shore #caitlyn kiramann #viktor x fem!reader #bro i gotta go to sleep now #goodnight everyone #Spotify

[thefinalsnart]

SNART !!! did we lose the dgm wiki? thats just rude how will my adhd dgm ass surVIVE !!! anyways, i saw ur post and i am here to shARE some thors as the keyword dgm summoned me !!!! 🫡🧡 (also i just found the wiki. the just sont have reevers anymore? scoff!!!!)

ANYWAYS johnny with a southern accent that he kinda tries to shake off bcos he becomes so self conscious at the order !!! they tease him about the way he pronounces things but when he manages to hide his accent they all go "wait :( johnny what r u doing :(" and promptly apologize way too much, trying to compensate for making him feel bad. in truth, he didnt mask it bcos of their teasing, but simply bcos he was kinda alone w the accent and it bothered him personally JSJSJSJ

also reever is both head of the science division but his most important (important!!!! 😤) job is head of the spider-and-other-bugs extermination division! hes seen Some Shit in australia and is therefor rarely ever bothered by the silly little european bugs. he always lets them out with a glass and a paper and a nonchalant air that annoys everyone bcos that waS A GIANT SPIDER W EGGS MY DUDE! but he simply goes on w his day, arriving when called. lavi once called him bcos of a toad in the library, which no one ever lets him live down. lavi defends himself by saying he couldnt see what it was between the books, except that it was slimy and breathing! 🫡

i watch some tiktoks (</3) with this german couple about stereotypes of german people and i swear. half the time i just see link and giggle, kicking my feet. theyre so hilarious, its like 'going on a biking trip' and hes SO overly prepared with stuff and the partner wants to have nice chats while they bike in the scenery :) and he just goes 'i am trying to keep my speed and breathing steady. we can look at the scenery in silence' AND JUST. SKSKSKSK some of them doesnt fit him as well obviously, but its my main form of entertainment when i want to think of link in Situations. i think their handle is Liam Carpenter if tiktoks youe thing!!!!!!

i hope ur ride is bearable and thinking of dgm makes it worthwile !!!!! 🥰

- @alienaiver ✨

My heart skipped a beat that Reever’s wiki page was gone, but I was able to find it 🫡 he is still with us!! But it can be hell to find pages on fandom wikis sometimes if only I had the skills and knowledge to make an independent dgm wiki… life could be dream…

JOHNNY 😭 He is so sweet, I would cry if I heard him trying to hide his accent… I can see him with a Southern or Appalachian accent for sure, I’m thinking like. The voices Justin and Griffin McElroy do in The Adventure Zone: Amnesty.

Also I realized… I can just look up where people with the last name Gill are from in the US? It’s just a headcanon but I got curious and—

It seems before and close to the start of D Gray Man, most people in the US with the last name Gill were from the South! The data is agreeing with you, Johnny just might be a southern boy. 🤠 Thinking about it, his name does have a southern ring to it, it sounds right in the accent. I can also see Johnny saying things like “bless your heart,” or “over yonder,” “fixin.” Different southern slang. I think it fits.

SHDHSHSH REEVER IS ON CREEPY CRAWLIES DUTY 🫡 GOOD LUCK BROTHER!! But knowing Reever I think he’d be so sweet to those bugs… carefully cupping and releasing them… usually he’s nonchalant but once in a while he’ll be like “what a beauty,” like Steve Irwin and no one understands why because he’ll be holding a GINORMOUS SPIDER. I love him.

I ACTUALLY KNOW EXACTLY WHO YOUR TALKING ABOUT SHDHDHCHDH. I too watch Liam’s videos on occasion to put Link in the Situations in my head AHSHSHDHD. You’re right I don’t think all of em fit Link but it’s still so fun to watch and think about!

Apologies for answering this over a week later, but thank you for chatting with me about dgm Nohr !!! it is always the best 💕💖💕

#snart asks #snart answers #snart friends #the maps are from Ancestry . com btw #headcanons are for fun and they really don’t need Tom be backed up but I get obsessive over stuff like this SHDHSJAJSJ I HAD TO LOOK IT UP.. #*need to be #dgm headcanons

[laitdange]

oh ! hello there ! ! m' vry excited tht u decided to join the angel sanctuary 🪽 as promised, here’s a fresh batch of cookies for u n' ur sweetened angel milk (all made w a bunch of lovieee ofc) please take a seat as i go over the etiquette n' formalities for both our sakes n' comfort ! ! t's vry important to belle to keep her sanctuary safe 🤍

͏͏୨୧ bcos of the contents tht i may post or share, only angels above eighteen are allowed to here. plz don’t read my pages unless you are the intended audience, otherwise i will have to block you.

͏͏୨୧ if you’re pro-israel, anti-dark content, can’t separate fiction from reality or generally an unpleasant person — kindly turn around n' leave, plz! you’re not welcome here.

͏͏୨୧ am a slow writer n' i do have a life outside of this blog, so prettie plz don’t bombard me w any ' part two’s ' or asking for updates as it will push me to not write honestly . . . n' refrain from leaving any rude comments underneath my pages. i do not accept nor asked for constructive criticism ! ! this iz a hobbie of mine only .

͏͏୨୧ no drama ! ! it makes me extremely anxious n' uncomfortable. so plz refrain from mentioning anything that is filled w discourse or trying to include me in it. i don’t have the time nor do i care for such trivial things. thank u vry much ! !

͏͏୨୧ do not compare me to other blogs or people on this site . . t's happened many times n' quite frankly m' exhausted. i’m my own person w my own likes ! ! we can all share the same space even if our likes are aligned . . t's giving vry chronically online behavior -_-

͏͏୨୧ i don’t hesitate to block freely. m' very heavy on curating ur own online experience, so if you’re blocked, plz be respectful of my decision n' don’t ask me why as it’s a bit awkward >.< hard block to break the mut plz ! !

͏͏୨୧ as if t's not obvious . . . i have typing quirks :3 it’s comforting to me n' if it bothers u then block me or scroll by ! ! t's not tht serious for to send hate or be weird about it in my askbox.

͏͏୨୧ things i enjoy writing . . .

𓊆ྀི ♡ 𓊇ྀི 。。 fem ﾉ hyperfeminine ﾉ crybaby n' subbie reader, dom / sub themes, dd/lg, infantilization ﾉ dumbification, cum ﾉ spit ﾉ drool, stepcest, dubious consent, age gap (both are adults ofc), pet play, hybrid reader, size kink ﾉ size difference, overstimulation, begging, dry humping, breeding kink, cream pies, fingering ﾉ finger sucking, oral (both m + f receiving or giving), ass play ﾉ anal, possessiveness n' jealousy.

͏͏୨୧ what i won’t write . . .

𓊆ྀི × 𓊇ྀི 。。age play, pedophilia, male reader, character x character, piss ﾉ scat ﾉ vomit, suicide, self harm, death, drinking ﾉ drug use, abuse, kidnapping n' yandere themes.

͏͏୨୧ plz don’t repost, edit ﾉ modify or claim my writing as your own . . . and don’t recommend me outside of tumblr ! ! i tag triggers n' content warnings so make sure to read them before deciding to continue on.

͏͏୨୧ thankiez u vry much for reading this far. please make sure to sign ur name if you agree to the guidelines. belle welcomes u with open arms ! ! i hope u have a splendid time at the angel sanctuary ᰔᩚ ! !

#⊹ ︶︶︶ 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒 ︶︶︶ ⊹ #plz heart this once u’ve read the rules ! ! thankie u 🤍 ! !

[intertexts-moving]

haven't watched trigun in years, but how's the new one holding up so far?

god. made a like, 6 paragraph post detailing my thoughts on this on my old blog.. i miss her..

i just finished ep 3 out of the 4 that are out so far! i like it. i think it's solidly holding a tone that is, while not identical to the original, at least. resonates with it. the same tone in a different octave, perhaps. disclaimer that i've not watched the 98 anime LMAO. manga only fan i watched the first, like, two eps of the 98 show & went man. i should really read this first. & then never got back to the show </3

studio orange is doing fucking stellar work with the animation!! this is perhaps my favorite thing ab the reboot. i don't get the 2d purism thing. the animation is sparkling and full of motion and extremely expressive in a way that's real similar 2 the original manga. ep3 has some gorgeous shots that i think wouldn't work as well w/ traditional animation, & they're extremely evocative of some of the big atmospheric high emotion spreads in the og. i like em! the vash design is cute, it's growing on me. i've still got a beef w/ the visible prosthetic & the younger design bcos the whole reveal in the original was so emotionally weighted & so important fr like. character & stuff. but. it's cute! same w/ the villain designs we've seen so far. eg mine looks way less goofy, for the like, 15 total minutes he's alive here.

tonally it's also holding up well! i think the whole show suffers a lot from pacing- this is my main beef w/ it lol. i mean, it's an understandable problem fr a show. i understand Why. but i still think it would rlly benefit from a much slower more even pacing. in terms of tone, this means it skips most of the whole like, volume one's worth of worldbuilding and setup & goes straight to This is Vash! he's involved with seeds and he's got an evil brother named knives who he hates for Killing Humans! we're gonna get fucked up about this! which is a pity imo. it would be much better with a little breathing room i think.

that being said, i rlly do think they're doing a great job capturing the.. vibe, i guess. of the original. the whole, this guy will put himself through the shredder for tired desperate people who won't hesitate to shoot him in the head for the money after he saves their lives, eternally the scapegoat for other people's crimes & is fine with it because he's got a guilt complex the size of texas type vibe.

there r admittedly goofy as hell moments. the fuckin.. dad from the nebraska family being like, a loveable kook once we get past the murder. which is.. fun, actually. knives shows up ex machina playing the piano, which is, like. why are u here other than furthering the story??? etc etc. but overall it's solid they're kinda starting frm scratch with the same overall frame & i think its fun seein em weave a new story from my favorite manga :]

#📨 #hooly shit.. new blog i get a new ask tag.. very exciting ! #my fave will always b the classic design n stuff sigh :( but. this ones pretty solid. #trigun

[hapifangurl]

zorobin and snow white connections:

you can read more about this short in this link:

i wonder why zorobin is specifically chosen to be in this reimagining of snow white.

i know oda made this one only as a joke or for fun but in the back of my mind maybe he is trying to foreshadow or hint something here.

my delulu self: oda-senpai, are you trying to jokingly say zorobin is endgame? 🥺

here robin is snow white but the 7 goats are preventing sanji to kiss her. is it because he is not the "prince" that will give her the "true love's kiss".

the biggest goat is facing different direction and if you look closely the goat is wearing the same clothes with zoro during the dressrosa arc.

look at the little goat noticing the "boss" is looking the other way. hinting to zoro being lost most of the time.

this was from the movie the cursed sword. that movie's entire premise was zoro's blood brother became "evil" after using a cursed sword in trying to protect his lover (the priestess). this is the most "romance-centered plot" portrayed in OP by the time it was released. though not zoro's "love story" but in a way zoro is the main focus of this film from the marketing and connection with the main antagonist.

there's this scene at the end of the movie where a big whale is chasing them.

robin is explaining while eating an apple (again a connection with snow white) that the whale fell in love with the merry and trying to propose.

she has 3 apples (can be parallel to 3 swords) and 1 green pear (color of zoro).

in one of my posts, i reference that robin's arc has similarities with fairy tales especially with snow white.

they said that robin's skin color changed from pre to post timeskip due to the animators color rendering but i think one of the reasons why the change in her color is to parallel snow white's description.

hair, black as ebony.

lips, red as rose.

skin, white as snow.

maybe there'll be a future arc where robin will fall into a dangerous trap (like a poison apple) and will be put into sleep-like-death. then only her "true prince" will break the curse.

OP is a long running saga and we all know robin will be important since she's the only one that can read poneglyph which is most essential in finding the one piece and uncovering the blank century.

the WG still wants to get her. and those old dudes in mary jois are crazy powerful with their powers still unknown.

maybe one of the elders will put a curse to robin and the sh will have to save her once more.

sh will be forced to fight the elders to get the "antidote".

and just like in the enies lobby arc where zoro got the last key that unlocks her cuffs. zoro will be able to get the antidote that will awaken her (that can be parallel as a true love's kiss).

i know i am totally scraping the barrel with my theories but i cannot help it.

back to snow white parallelism. snow white secretly crushing with prince charming in the movie. cos she was shy when the prince saw her singing beside a well.

some would say that snow white and prince charming only interacted at the beginning of the movie then at the last part. but still at the end they got their happily ever after.

some ants argument i saw online that zorobin doesn't make sense bcos they do not interact or have few interactions. which is false cos if you watch closely the anime and read the manga they have a lot of interactions. it may not be as highlighted as the other characters but it's there.

i think zorobin is secretly crushing with each other. you can see that in their 1st interaction after robin joined the crew. robin's trying her best to do small talk with him and get to know him more.

zoro's distrust her at first but kept on saving her anyway or being the 1st one to act when robin is in danger.

my speculation, if zorobin is parallel to snow white that by the end of OP since robin's home is gone zoro will take her to east blue in his village just like prince charming taking snow white to his kingdom.

some cool binary elements for zorobin as well.

robin is from the west blue while zoro is from east blue.

sun rises at the east and sets at the west.

zorobin for the win! haha 🤭😆

💚💜🌸⚔️

updated:

funnily enough when they were in jaya, zoro was offered with poison apples. 🤔

#zorobin #zoro x robin #roronoa zoro x nico robin #otp #zorobin theory

[strxnger-things]

omg i finally found you!! I liked ur birthdaygate post AGES ago then forgot your url but im so glad i found you again bcos i have SO many questions- pls pls pls can you explain your theory more bcos its driving me crazy, a lot of people dont like this theory for some reason but im on the fence about how i feel about it :/

damn, I really thought I had the best hiding spot... *climbs out of a dark corner and stretches*

lol, hey!

ok so before I go any further into this, I just want to make something clear: I'm not the person who came up with the birthdaygate theory. I've seen a few people conflating birthdaygate with the post I made about something funky going on with the memories mentioned in the S2 shed scene, but they're like totally two separate things. Birthdaygate is the cool, big-brain theory that suggests Will's forgotten birthday is secretly a planned narrative tool that we'll see explained in Season 5 (whoever first put the evidence for that together, you rock and I have mad respect for you)

Memorygate on the other hand, is just a small expansion of it: my suggestion as to when or why Will's birthday might have been forgotten. Honestly, I'd not given the whole theory much thought before I unceremoniously threw it into the byler tag and watched the horror and heartbreak spread haha I'll do my best to explain it a little more, but I don't think I'll really be able to help much. My intention was never to convince people of anything. It was literally just me going, "huh... hey guys, isn't this kind of suspicious...?"

and the thing is, if you don't believe in birthdaygate to begin with, then memorygate is completely moot. Like, it's just a lot of fun. But if birthdaygate is real, memorygate just might be one possible explanation. Maybe. ?? honestly? I think it would kinda suck if it was real. I totally understand why some people hate it. Whilst I'm sure it'd be a shocking twist, it would also be very deux ex machina, and it'd mess with the character's agencies.

but like, if it WAS suspicious... ...here we have a villain who can canonically a) view people in the present moment like they're all laid out on a chess board ("now-memories"), b) enter any mind he so wishes and spy on their innermost thoughts and memories, and c) seems to have a connection/obsession with time.

This villain is also literally told a bunch of memories relating to one of his primary antagonists. The S2 shed scene helped Will break free of his possession just enough to save the day, but at the same time, what if Vecna was being given precious ammunition that he could utilise for future use? It's kinda convenient that Will's birthday is A Thing™ now, and the ONE time it's mentioned in the narrative is one of the most powerful and important scenes. Coincidence? Yeeeeah, maybe.

and as to how Vecna could have 'used' all those memories for his own benefit, I can only speculate. We don't yet know enough about what Vecna is fully capable of. Can he flit through people’s mindscapes without the victim suspecting anything? Do they always have a nosebleed or a headache, or is that just for when he’s going to kill/ consume you to open a gate?  Memorygate is just the theory that Vecna’s done something to those memories, including Will's birthday, because he knows they helped Will fight back against his possession.

Of course, Will was physically possessed in comparison to the mind possession we saw with Max and the other victims, so we don’t know if that changes things either.  It could be time-related (like, the date itself has been screwed with) or it could be memory-related (e.g. nobody from the shed scene can remember it because at some point, Vecna has messed with their minds, one by one). I can't help but compare it to how Vecna entered Max's memory of the Snow Ball. She did the same thing that Will probably did, and entered a safe space in her mind to escape him. She fought back by remembering the good, anchoring herself to her friends and to her special dance/kiss with Lucas. But then Vecna found his way in to that memory, slowly but surely, and took it over so she could no longer hide there. 

We didn't see it as an audience, but what if that was kind of what was happening inside Will's mind in S2? 

I'm not sure what more I can say to explain the memory stuff because there's still a lot of guesswork when it comes to Vecna and his powers. But I can go a little further into the Byler part for you, seeing as I only briefly mentioned it in my first post and I assume that's what you want me to get into most. So Mike talks about DnD games and their swingset meeting, and I think the latter is arguably the most powerful memory mentioned in the whole scene. A lot of attention is focused on the swingset memory. It's super important. We can also pretty confidently conclude that Vecna is pissed at Mike, especially by the time S4 rolls round. He's long known who he is, and he knows he's directly foiled his plans on more than one occasion, just like El. So go back and watch the shed scene again, and think about what we learned about Vecna in Season 4. Was he watching from Will's eyes, a hulking presence stalking through his mind, clouding Will's sense of self and listening intently to every word Mike was saying? Yeah, probably. Mike was visibly emotional. Distressed, vulnerable, raw, honest. Vecna learned that day that Mike and Will are deeply special to one other. He knows they're best friends. He knows a lonely Mike first approached a similarly lonely Will on a swingset when they were in kindergarten ('it was the best thing I've ever done...'). He also probably knows how Will truly feels about Mike. So that's a lot of ammunition for him to help put his plans into action, whatever they may be. He apparently doesn't want to kill Will, but perhaps he wants to isolate him. To hurt him, to make him feel forgotten by his loved ones, in a long game to win him over? Who knows.......

Vecna plays chess with people. He spies, he collects information, he uses people's memories against them. And the shed scene would have been a prime opportunity. A feast, if you will.

Once again, I hope I'm wrong about this. :)

#in which i ramble #I was driving back from somewhere late at night when the thought first popped into my head #like #crazy stuff #memorygate #birthdaygate #long post #anon answered #byler #vecna #st5 speculation