Vi Arcane - Blog Posts

I love this show so much, I’m glad we got a good final!

“Didn’t you try to kill him?”

“The greatest thing we can do in life…”

“…is find the power to forgive.”

The Line & Friend, Please

from Twenty One Pilots are the most Jayvik songs I have ever heard 😭✨

I just wanna talk about how I feel about the end of arcane, this is just the first post of probably a couple posts and I wanna say that I hope league of legends continues to update all their future shows and other projects on Saturday. We had ARCANE Saturday and I loved it, it was special and I think this has become a sort of tradition and I saw someone say using this will make future projects even more important and feel more connected cuz it all ties back to where we started. That's all I had to start with I'll post more today. (I NEED TO TALK ABOUT SOME THEORIES Y'ALL😭)

Caitlyn: I'm going to have to tie you up and blindfold you

Vi: okay. You should probably hit me in the face also.

Caitlyn: good idea

Vi: and then I can spit on you

Caitlyn: perfect great I'll make sure to rub your spit over my mouth while making intense eye contact

Vi: this is great our plan to infiltrate the camp is so normal and also regular

Lavander Petals

Vi x Fem!/Pronouns Reader

Words: 4,310

Summary: Life took everything from you that tragic night. Years have passed and the ghosts of your past knock on your door unearthing intense feelings, could you forgive? Let go?

Written Curse: Use of (__)! Second person! I'm not an english native speaker so I support on translators!-- It took too long to write this. anyway, i wanted to do my own version of Vi and Reader reunited--This happens after the end of the season! See ta Darlings!

Your eyes feel heavy, heavier and heavier as time goes by, so many years and still the pain has not shed the veins of your heart. There are even times when you believe that everything was part of your imagination, from the need to love and appreciate that in the end you ended up more hurt. Or maybe it was all real and that would make it worse, you don't know it anymore you don't know anything, you've never known anything and that hurts more.

Are you crazy? No, no, no. Of course not… or that's you want to believe, maybe, it’s all a bad dream, a bad thought that took too much control of your life and even they still are by your side. Playing a bad prank while you sit on the bench, your elbows resting on the bar that was just cleaned, your hands on your jaw and cheeks that conform to the pressure of these, your lost look on the liquors on the shelf and so on, your legs spread out for being very close to the bar when your feet rest on the metals under the chair. Your sense of hearing absent in the moment, focusing on the illusion of their loss.

When night falls and a new life begins, yours comes to rest. Your eyelids still for a long time now prevent you from having to recognize that you are totally alone and always will be, tomorrow will continue and will until the same luck knocks on the door of your little dwelling. But why would it be today if it was not before?

The morning rests everywhere, penetrating even the thin layer of skin of your face, with a rhythmic touch you began to wake up. Some noises were leaking into the almost empty room and helped you to take a more energetic attitude.

When you got out of bed you stretched your whole body, your legs hanging from the edge, after a few minutes you finally stood and went to get ready for the day, the mirrors in the room covered and your eyes never on the windows... with slow pace you made your way to the bathroom, with the natural light made it feel more hollow, as if the walls were paper and anyone could break them to reveal your naked being. After a few hours you finally left the place, your steps leaving invisible traces where you pass, with a cape and hood that partially covers your face...

When they met you they always made the same comment in some way or another, their smiles and their kind attitude bothered.

"She looks too much like you!" the female voice with surprise examined your face, her eyes wide open, with her legs slightly bent to be at the same height, then, a somewhat hoarse laugh filled your senses, your frowning of discomfort was heading to the man less than 2 meters away with his arms crossed in the form of pride, he simply nodded not before ending that 'actually she looks more like her mother’, everyone simply accepted it and after some more comments they were going to do something else.

So he approached and with his thick arm rested on your shoulders, gave some words to make you feel better, messing with your hair and returned to his work, you jaded without feeling really upset and with no one around you immediately smiled until one hand took yours and carried you with the others while the sounds of talk and glass became just an indistinguishable buzz.

Years and years ago it was like that, right now even if you would give anything for someone to make the comparison you could not stand to see you, you could not let someone else see you. For being the living image of your father.

When the night finally took the city back into its clutches and with your day finished you walk through the dark streets, the occasional lights as a guide back to your loneliness and tormented thoughts. Each step is more difficult than the previous one thanks to both physical and mental fatigue but you need to continue, you must.

For the memory of your family and for your own good. Already in front of the door and with soft movements you take the key out of your pocket and put it in the lock, you open and pass in the main corridor to the house, your pupils dilated to capture as much light as possible in the sea of darkness and groping to turn on the spotlights you guide yourself from the wall. When you turn on the lights and go into the living room you sit in the old sofa and torn from some parts.

You inhale and take the aroma of moisture as well as the dust settled in some corners, squint your eyes and hear the small squeaks from outside, but this condition does not last anything thanks to a few blows on the door. Somewhat surprised by this you turn your head a little and you only observe the door darkened by the little light that comes to it, not long after the sound is repeated but with greater intensity and less time intervals between each blow.

Slowly you get up and walk toward the door, back in the hallway, your hand moves toward your back pocket and firmly grabs the knife that rested there. You bend so that your eye is at the same height as the peephole and focus, the only thing visible were two silhouettes and nothing else; no details. Nothing. For this reason you tighten the handle of the knife even more without responding or making another movement. One of the two figures moves more than the other due to the blows it gives while the other seems weak to give the impression that its silhouette is leaning on the other.

With squinted eyes you expect them to leave or if they insist, if they try to enter... Your blood is frozen when you hear your name on the other side of the door, the voice is desperate and extremely familiar, your eyebrows are contracting and your grip on the knife makes you feel your hand throbbing as the other little as you are leaning against the door. And again, like an echo, the realization of a heart eroded by pain like a stone before the water again, feels like the exact momement of your disgrace.

Without thinking your hand that is leaning on the door moves to wrap the handle and turns it to open, for an instant three visible figures invade your eyes and everything seems like the first time. You remember standing in confusion when you saw two colorful heads being carried by his two big arms, your gaze ran from top to bottom until his head bowed and raised his eyebrows, with this you moved to allow them to enter.

The person in front of you is the image of that girl whom you loved and lamented so much, the one to whom you dedicated so many sleepless nights and tears thinking that you should have seen her body, to give her a worthy burial like the others, a farewell. Perhaps it is time to accept that you are no longer in your faculties, which is one of the many tricks that your mind plays. But when those pupils meet yours and her hand rests on your arm everything becomes real.

"(__)" you hear the repetition with restlessness, thoughts at a thousand per hour. And all you do is stick to the wall and move the knife arm slightly. Vi notices this, her intermixed expression of feelings and emotions but she looks at her companion and both pass with weakness, being in the middle of the room you close the door, your body trembles, you do not blink fearing the passage of time.

With a warm smile he introduced you to the girls and asked for your help to attend them in the mean time he prepared something for them to drink, the tallest sat in the chair that you were using before waiting for your father, the other; with blue hair like her irises walked all over the bar admiring the details.

You bit your cheek and grabbed another of the chairs that were on the table, and next to the girl you sat and swayed your feet until after a while you started talking, at first she did not talk too much, giving answers of a syllable. On Vander's return, he put the drinks on the table, four in total and grabbed a chair of his own, turned it and leaned on the back of it. He started talking to Vi and Powder to make them more comfortable, some laughs found a place that night as well as a new home for them.

At last you leave the door and walk to the room to see the girls still in the middle as if they did not want to intrude more, when recovering some of your previous stillness you observe them and notice the agitated language of the two. The arm of the dark-haired one fully supported in VI, which only walks to the armchair and helps the other to sit there, her gaze rises until she meets yours again and everything feels real again, "(__)" again says before walking towards you and wrapping you in it tightly "(__)" it sounds like a plague, she separates a little and rests its hands on your cheeks. A strange touch.

"It is you" her swollen eyes fill with tears but the only thing you can do without having completely exited the shock is to blink "Vi?" it comes out on its own and you feel how your eyes are on the verge of being on par with hers, she nods and smiles half-way, tears already fall down her cheeks and with greater force she embraces you again, without another word you open your eyes processing everything that happens and slowly the hand with which you hold the knife drops it to grab her shoulder, your gaze falls for a second on the girl sitting on your armchair but simply rests on Vi’s pink hair.

Tears begin to fall from one moment to another, your whole body clings to hers so as not to let it go again and your senses drown in a great intensity that makes her secure you with words and more tact. In a span of half an hour they finally separate from each other, before you can say anything she turns to the girl, "I need… we need to stay for today" The struggle in her voice is quite obvious "Please" when you see those eyes you can’t say no, figuratively and literally you can’t settle for.

"You can stay here or sleep in my bed" you sigh and rub your jaw to squat and pick up the knife "That’s what I can offer ", she nodded "Thank you, really" and while standing you keep the knife in your pocket and watch the other girl more "Caitlyn, she's Caitlyn" Vi clarifies as you check her body and see the tears, in her clothes; the dirt on her face and her shaken face.

You squeeze the jaw and raise your shoulders "Whatever…" you inhale delicately "Do I take care of your wounds or can you on your own?" you say as you walk to the desolate kitchen, Vi puts her hands in her pockets of her jacket "We can" now an air of some discomfort settles "Where is... well... everything?" she asks and walks to the frame where a door should be to enter the kitchen and lay her arm there. "In the bathroom" as if her presence was the most normal you try not to see her and eat a few cookies "It is better for you to rest" you say and walk until you are face to face "So decide, the sofa or my bed". The urgency in your voice as well as your modes are strange to Vi but she decides to let them go by now "Don’t worry, the sofa will be like a delicacy" you step and see the floor, she moves and you go to the living room.

You walk to your room and grab one of the few bedspreads and come back, you stand next to Caitlyn and stretch the bedspread, she raises her gaze and appreciates your face for a moment "Thank you" she whispers to the grip and put it on the sofa, you notice like tears form in her eyes and her face contracts but she bends her head and puts her eyes on something else. The familiarity of this action makes your eyes show pity but you do not ask when you do not want to worsen the emotions that she's probably feeling "You're welcome" you say flatly biting your tongue "lI'l go to my room" you take a fleeting look at each one before making way to your bedroom, no one answers or moves, just following you with their eyes.

When you close the door of the room you cover your mouth and exhale with fear, this cannot be possible, Vi, alive but, how? As if you had been repressing all your pain, it hits you once more, memories beat and bleed as if there were no tomorrow. You saw your dead father… the others are gone and she was too.

At midnight and somewhat calm you smoked with the windows closed thinking and thinking when the door opened without further do, the brightness of the moon was barely able to discern the new presence but you did not react, too exhausted for that. You just watch and wait but don't talk until a few seconds later, "(__), Can we talk?" Vi whispers but sounds so clear in contrast to the dead silence that remained so the exhalation seemed like a jester but you whisper in confirmation and VI walks to the edge of the bed and takes a seat.

Before she can talk you take that opportunity "Where were you?" You wanted to scream, cry again, smile and hug her for days, feel relief, but the affliction was dominating you. "You were dead" your face begins to contract and your teeth cut your tongue. She closes her eyes and tilts her head with her hands against the bedspread "I know, I’m sorry… I thought I was doing the right thing and in the end I ended up doing more damage, I tried to go back with Jinx, but Marcus…" the emotions seem to be too much.

"And after so many years in that prison. When I left I tried to fix things, I was told that you were gone, even that you were dead" she breathed trembling and you know it by being attentive to the sounds, the view not very reliable at the time but what was allowed to see is how she tries to maintain her composure "Ekko tried to help us but-" what? Ekko what? You press the tip of the cigarette against the ashtray to turn it off and wait for her to finish but she does not. You blow and let go of the last smoke, another emotion invades you, a lasting feeling but embarrassed to admit, even for yourself.

You take the courage to say it out loud, in the end, all this has been very stressful. "I told you to wait for me" you started with a knot in your throat and your lungs burning "I told you to wait, we had everything to go" now you feel your pressure rise and your body moves to try to filter your state. "I know, I know… I’m sorry. I thought I was doing the right thing, I didn’t know what else to do" she hurries to answer and slides to get closer to you, suddenly the room lights up thanks to a ray that announces the rain, there you see her face well and although only for a second it is like that, it is as if it has been engraved in your mind. You turn out your head and close your eyes with tears once again "No, you don’t know Violet" you open your eyes and bite your cheek "I thought they were all dead."

"Seeing that none of you were at home I ran to the damned place" Your words sound drowned and hardly come out with meaning "Only to meet my father’s corpse." you cover your eyes with the hand that previously held the cigarette "I did not even have the courage to see the bodies of others" Vi saw only listen with her heart about to break when imagining such a scene, repentance and guilt whispering inside, forcefully grab your hand, wants to listen, knows that she must.

When she moves his thumb to caress your palm a warmth envelops you slightly, you breathe with deep intention as more tears fall "When I returned, Silco had already taken the place with his followers, I had nowhere to go" you stop talking when you overwhelm yourself with everything, you bow your head, you breathe and breathe. "I had no idea (__)" answered Vi now in front of you and she hugged you again, "I'm sorry" Her hands squeeze your shoulders and take your smell, clinging to a part of her past with hopes that it hasn’t changed but inside she knows it’s impossible, she changed, Jinx changed and so do you.

"I wanted to blame myself, I wanted to blame you" you continue with heaviness "I wanted to blame everyone" you don’t give back the hug "I had a home and from one moment to another I had nowhere to go, I couldn’t even walk without being chased by those damned men and all for being my father’s daughter" the knot in your throat gets tighter "I couldn’t even be with Ekko because of the fear that the same thing would happen to him…" you pull away from VI. Another ray accompanied by thunder takes over the sky and the room lights up and reveals that both are directly seen when the darkness takes up its space "I also died that day" you clench your jaw and your teeth fight against each other "And now, after all this time you return without more?", "After years of crying thinking that I had turned my back on my family and that they had died because of that, you just knock on the door and bring an Enforcer asking for a place."

"It's not like that" Vi says and puts his hands on each shoulder "Then how is it?" Now you are the one who approaches "I wanted to look for you before", "And why didn’t you do it?" even though Vi understood your emotions, she couldn’t help but be frustrated by how you were behaving now "Because I looked for Po… Jinx, because I had to help Caitlyn and things happened" she says determined and moves her hands a little while they are still on your shoulders but you take them off with your arms, "And did you think it was a good idea to appear without further ado?" Vi buff when you stood up from the bed "I had no other choice (__), understand it" this for some reason makes you angry and you put your hands together creating fists "Option? Didn’t you have option VI?" You raise your arms and open your fists "You’ve always had options, Violet, but you always decide to take them without first thinking--.

With this Violet is equally annoyed and without standing only speaks with a tone that demonstrates this "Do you think I wanted all this to happen? I think about things but I decide to act, not just stand still doing nothing" you turn your eyes and walk through the bedroom raising your voice "And how did that work for us both?" VI comes back to jester, stands and crosses her arms " What do you mean?."

You bite your tongue and turn your back on it when you stop walking but you don’t answer, seconds pass silently before she asks you again, you turn around and watch her silhouette "Do you think I don’t blame myself too? Do you think I spent all those years in that shitty prison with a smile thinking about how I ruined everyone's life?" now she is the one who clenches her fists "Vander was also my father (__), you may think that because he was your biological father I do not feel his loss equally, but at least I tried to do something for him."

Without saying anything else she walks and opens the door to leave, leaving you with intense emotions and feelings, you sit in bed and cover your face, the bed shaking by the movements of your body. A few hours later you finally fall in surrender and the dream takes you in its arms.

The next morning you woke up before dawn and tired you went to the room with the surprise of seeing both of them sitting on the sofa, remembering the talk Vi and you u had hours ago you swallow some saliva, you continue your walk "You must be hungry" Caitlyn gets up and with the blanket in her arms follows you "You're very kind but no thanks" she turns around and sees Vi who lifts her shoulders and then rests her elbows on her legs, Caitlyn rolls her eyes before getting closer and giving you the blanket "Thank you very much, really" her lips create a little smile of gratitude and when she takes the blanket she closes her eyes for a moment and agrees, "It's nothing…" you narrow your eyes "Caitlyn" she stretches her arm and takes your hand gently when she starts shaking it.

""Of course, Caitlyn" you nod and stop taking her hand, she gives you a sympathetic smile again before walking, not without first saying that she goes to the bathroom to cool her face so you are alone in the kitchen for a few seconds, you leave the quilt on one of the bars and exhale putting your hands on the bar just a few centimeters from the quilt, You hear the footsteps of Vi behind you and close your eyes, swallow saliva again "It was not my intention to say what I said" you know it is better that whoever takes the conversation is you, it was always you who started conversations like this when both of them discussed things Milo said were very stupid.

"It’s just that, it was so sudden that you arrived; even now part of me thinks I’ve already gone crazy" a bitter laugh comes out of you without even moving to see your face "For so long I didn’t know what to do, my emotions were only getting worse" you grab courage and turn your body to be face to face "And when I saw you at the door… it was too much" she puts her hands in the pockets of her jacket and watches the kitchen "I understand what you feel, it was not easy for me either" she sighs with regret "I never thought you had that part in you" she smiles slightly "But I keep winning you, I wasn’t going to let you talk to me like that without giving you a spoonful of the same" finally she walks around and lays a portion of her back on the bar.

None of you speak for a moment, her presence being the only thing necessary to understand eachother. You try to understand what she has gone through and how it has affected her, you even come to compare situations with this new perspective. You think about any situation you have been in and imagine what it was of VI at the same time and that made your heart flutter. "Has anything changed between us?" You interrupt your thoughts to listen and now you travel to that topic, you have done it, of course.

"Do you want them to change?" The question could be taken literally but between the lines and between you knew the meaning of this, she busts with a smile and crosses her arms "Don’t think I haven’t noticed how you look at her and how she looks at you" you say looking at her from the periphery to see how her face matches the color of her hair and moves her head "I think we broke up without realizing it" now she crosses her legs and takes a more serious attitude and then talks "When all this is fixed… Can I keep seeing you?" Her melancholy tone seems as if she was saying goodbye.

You walk around and take your eyes to the floor "Maybe… just… that’s not like this time, ok?" now she laughs "You know me, pretty" when she finishes saying it, Caitlyn returns and Vi walks away from the bar.

After they talk they finally decide to leave and continue with whatever they have planned, the farewell becomes difficult but both are promised that things will improve. When opening the door of the house Caitlyn leaves first and now it is Vi's turn, you take a look and that way you say more things without the need to speak a syllable. You see them leaving and you feel something you never thought you would be able to experience again. Peace. Even for a second you feel it and think that things will improve, but it is a matter of time proving bad or good, the only thing you can do for now is wait. In the end a different kind of luck knocked on your door.

Finish some of them

It's been a while have a wip and art

Jinx is blabbering about something. Something that neither Ekko or Vi can understand her while she’s underneath the car to fix it up.

“I need you to speak up PowPow!” Yells Vi. Isha covers her ears even though she has her headphones on. Ekko snorts out a response at Isha’s antics.

“Isha honey… you know you can barely hear her.” Ekko says. Isha just blows a raspberry at him.

“You two hurry up and get me the wrench!” Jinx yells exasperated while pushing herself out of from under the car. “I need to get this car up and running fast.”

“We couldn’t understand you PowPow.” Vi says walking to her

“Boy Savior, be a savior and SAVE ME!” Jinx yells as she gets tackled by Vi. Vi lays comfortably on top of her.

Isha giggles happily at their antics. Ekko walks over to them. Laying his body on them both. Jinx yells in frustration.

“Isha. Come help me!” Jinx asks borderline pleading. Isha nod frantically as she runs to pull Ekko off of them. In response Ekko lays all his body weight down.

~A few minutes of struggle later~

Isha kicks both Ekko and Vi and pouts on the floor. Ekko gets off of Vi to pick up Isha. “How about we get some ice cream while Vi helps your mom out.”

Isha lights up and nods eagerly.

“TRAITORS!” Jinx yells out as Ekko leaves with Isha in hand.

vi and jinx are just black brother variants thank you for coming to my tet talk

Personally for me it was absolutely not about favoring mlm vs. wlw. This is not simply about representation, it's about the stories. I loved CaitVi in S1 but for me in S2 they completely lacked chemistry and their ending felt unearned.

In Season 1 CaitVi told a beautiful story about two kind-hearted women overcoming their prejudice and seeing the person that was in front of them. I cherished every heartfelt glance between them, especially Vi being touched every time Cait proved to be so much better than most Piltovians and showing compassion towards the people of Zaun.

But then Season 2 came along and I lost all respect for Cait the moment she said "animals" in S2E1. AND THEN she gassed Zaun and became the Fuhrer. Her redemption scenepack (because I'm not calling that an arc) didn't really do it for me. I get what they were going for but I never regained my appreciation for Caityn after everything she's done in S2.

Vi also became way less compelling in S2. She went from being an awesome big sister and one of the main characters in S1 to being basically a device for other characters (Jinx, Cait, Warwick) to have their moments, with a montage of getting drunk in goth makeup and an underdeveloped friendship with Loris sprinkled in for good measure. She also made many out of character choices, the biggest ones being joining the Enforcers and giving up on Jinx and Zaun.

Cait and Vi's first kiss had no chemistry for me. I feel like they weren't really seeing each other in that scene. Vi asked Cait to promise she wouldn't change but Cait has already started to change by then. Cait kissed Vi as a confirmation of that promise even though you can't realistically promise someone that you won't change because it's near impossible.

Their reconcilliation in S2E6 was rushed. We've all seen the jokes that all it took for Cait to do a 180 was to hear Vi say the word "cupcake". And then the sex scene in S2E8 felt unearned and had a very awkward timing. There was so much misunderstanding that they should've addressed first but I guess they just really wanted to boink already. Or rather, the writers wanted them to boink. Even if it was in a prison cell right after Jinx pretty much implied to Vi that she's going to kill herself.

I have many problems with Arcane Season 2's writing and Cait and Vi's storylines are among them. Meanwhile the best thing that happened in that season was Jayce and Viktor's stories. They were very compelling separately (Viktor becoming Jesus and finally being able to help people in Zaun like he always wanted to, only to become lost and possessed by the Hexcore and crossing the line. Jayce seeing the unforseen tragic consequences of his idealism and ambition and coming out on the other side more mature and wanting to amend for the damage he's caused) as well as in relation to each other (Their perspectives clashing in the divorce scene. Them basically switching places and gaining understanding of each other's POV. Every time they hurt each other in any capacity in Episodes 6, 8 and 9 you could see how much pain it brought them. And then their final scene which was just poetic and tied their story perfectly, them sacrificing their lives in each other's arms to save the world from their shared dream that started it all.)

Enjoying a good story and disregarding a poorly-written one has nothing to do with biases.

im a huge jayvik fan and loved their gay ass ending but the way they get SO MUCH MORE TRACTION than the CANONICAL LESBIAN COUPLE at the center of the show is sooooo telling of everyone's biases. it's all talking about how there's not enough lesbian rep until you actually get lesbian rep and fully fucking ignore it to hype up the not even canonical gay ship. like ok !!!

"can i kiss you?" vi asks, close enough that her lips are a mere inch away from yours. the scent of alcohol hits your nose, hitting you with a little piece of reality that nearly winds you.

you swallow, looking at vi through your lashes, and try not to fall into this trap. because that's what this is; a trap geared towards your downfall.

but vi's staring at you, her gaze so sweet with how disarming her puppy dog eyes are. it breaks you down from the inside and deconstructs you until you're only pieces of yourself. but you have to hold it together because you can't do this; you can't be involved in this.

"vi," you murmur, moving back a little so you can breathe. "you can't. it won't—it's not fair."

"...i know," vi whispers, after a brief moment, and closes her eyes. then she's closing the gap between you two, but only so she can rest her forehead against yours. "i know."

tears burn behind your eyes and sit tight in your throat, your hands curled into fists at your sides.

but you say nothing and simply allow both of you to exist in whatever piece of time this is.

Hey...psst.

Would you like Arcane characters as sonic fandub quotes in these trying times?

/////

Sevika:"It would seem that you bitches have come to a standstill in the Under city trenches. You have thirteen seconds before the sewers fucking explodes, you Hot Topic wannabe and you blue gumball son of a bitch! You have done nothing but destroy my life, I hope you both die."

Jinx:"Hot Topic?"

Vi:"No! My secret!"

////

In her emo era

Vi:"I miss my wife, Jinx. I miss her a lot. I'll be back."

////

Caitlyn:"Ambessa you're an asshole, woman!"

Ambessa:"You are what you eat Caitlyn."

Caitlyn:"WOAH-"

////

Viktor seeing ekko blazing towards him in episode 9

Viktor:"He's faster than Viktor! ......he's faster than Viktor! WHAT!?"

////

Jinx:"That's right everybody. It's your favorite girl!"

...

Caitlyn:"GET THE FUCK OUT-"

////

Viktor:"Will you pop this piss rock?"

Jayce:"Put the piss stone down right now, you know what hexcore does to your ᵇˡᵉⁿᶦˢ"

Viktor:"I like what it does to my ᵇˡᵉⁿᶦˢ jayce!"

////

Jayce:"All around me are familiar Jayce's, worn-out Jayce's, worn-out Ja-a-yce's, bright and-"

teleports to the bad universe

"I’M BACK IN THE FUCKING BUILDING AGAIN!!! OH. MY. GOD."

////

Ekko:“Going uuuuuUUUUUUUUUUP!"

proceeds to jump down

////

Vi: "I don't think so, Ambessa! You have to do what I say or else you're done for, Amdumb! Ambussy! Amb poopy, poopy butt!"

Ambessa: "You may be the- don't you ever FUCKING call me that ever again, I'LL KILL YOU-"

ambessa laying on the table defeated

////

Isha starting a la jinx revolution and getting kidnapped

Jinx:".......something just happened..."

Will yall hate me if I said smash

AND HES TALL TOOO

Hello there Jesus of Nazareth

Okay jokes aside, this moment is extremely beautiful and I'm watching this on my own, I cannot explain the surreal feeling that courses through my veins. This show is the air I breathe, the water I drink and the soul inside me and this scene, however the hell you see jayce and viktor literally doesn't matter. Lovers, platonic soulmates, idc. This scene is beautiful, in any context and any universe. Thank you arcane production team.

My baby, my baby

You're my baby, say it to me

I bet on losing dogs

I know they're losing and I'll pay for my place by the ring

Where I'll be looking in their eyes when they're down

I'll be there on their side

I'm losing by their side

if you have no interest or haven't watched arcane, I pity you.

SPOILERS FOR SEASON TWO ARCANE!!!

episode 1: the Lebanese are fighting 😞 atleast Caitlyn looks badass 💃🏼 I will say tho the roles are reversing 😍✌🏼 vi seems more pathetic which is nice

episode 2: NOOO VIKTOR HAS JESUS IMAGERY 😭😭 AND JUST LIKE JESUS HE'S GONNA DIEEE WE JUST GOT HIM BACKKKK WHYYYY also I'm calling it isha is gonna be to jinx what jinx was to silco and jinx is gonna be to isha what silco was to her ... hopefully that makes sense. wait if Viktor is Jesus, does that make Sky the holy spirit lmao 😭 the funny thing is I was looking at Viktor and thinking "huh he looks like Paul Atreides" well, well, well, another pale twink is Jesus once again. wait a minute who was that person...also ew icky heart beating

episode 3: HELPPPPP OPENING CREDITS ATEEE DOWNNNN MY WORDDDD. I live for feral Caitlyn. MOMMY AMBESSAAAAA 😍😍😍 "promise me you won't change." LEBANESE KISS YAYYY now get naked. wait where's that brunette guy that was like...a concubine for mommy ambessa?? where'd he go 💀. Lest is so pretty 😍 the cat alien hybrids in here are GORGEOUS. I never said it before but harbinger or whatever the fuck his name is with ekko is so cute, father and son fr. OHH MY GOSHHHH CAITLYN SHOT VI, that scene went wilddd. oh no vi sweetheart no don't cry 😭😭😭 there's too much happening everything everywhere all at once I'm getting an aneurysm in the best way. I'm sorry but I love what's happening with Caitlyn 😔

WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ONNNN

My contribution

my contribution to the fan art community, good night

WHY ARE PEOPLE ON TWITTER CLAIMING “ZAUNITE” IS A SLUR??

I REPEAT, ITS NOT A SLUR!!

Piltover call them “trenchers” as the derogatory word used toward the people from Zaun! They only call it the Undercity and nothing more. The whole point of Silco’s rise to power in Season One is to get Piltover to recognize the nation as “Zaun” and make it independent. Please arcane fans, watch the damn show, I’m actually baffled!

This story is beautiful. ❤️

Trust.

i dont have time to read this right now but god DAMN this is a long fic

ONCE BITTEN, TWICE SHY

pairing: vi x fem!reader word count: 10.5k summary: after years away, vi returns home for the holidays and reunites with you, her ex-girlfriend. the universe (*cough cough* and your meddling families) push you together again, and neither of you can ignore the feelings that linger. (or: you, vi, and the ghosts of christmas past, present and future.) warnings: reader is ekko's older sister but not necessarily biological so appearance isn't specified; childhood friends to lovers + second chance romance; reader gets hit on by a creepy guy + gets into a fight (injury + blood mention), smut [strap mention (reader receiving), oral (both receiving), fingering (both receiving), biting, spitting, tribbing, sub!vi makes an appearance...kinda rough + possessive sex but there's aftercare too <33] (18+) ! a/n: HAPPY NEW YEAR GIRLS AND GAYS <33 tbh i debated whether to post this now bc xmas was like....3 weeks ago but figured i might as well. so pls enjoy what is essentially an x-rated sapphic hallmark holiday movie.

♪: ‘tis the damn season by taylor swift (sun); winterbreak by MUNA (moon); last christmas by wham! (rising)

track 1: thank god it’s christmas by queen

(winter — age 17)

“okay, just relax your fingers — no, but keep some tension, apply a bit of pressure on the string….yep, that’s better. now, straighten your back….”

it’s dark and snowing outside, and the cold’s seeping in through the window of her attic bedroom, but vi still almost melts into the floor when you follow her advice and press against her chest. she worries that you can feel how fast her heart is beating — faster than it maybe should for someone she’d been calling friend ever since she could remember. 

you shift in her lap, her arms still wrapped around yours from when she offered to guide you through an instrumental version of wham’s “last christmas.” you tilt your head towards her, nose almost brushing against hers. 

“vi?”

“....yes?”

“maybe we should finish our lesson another time. we better hurry up, anyways. i bet ekko and powder are already arguing over whether we should watch home alone or home alone two.”

vi snorts. it’s practically a tradition at this point, along with the annual post-christmas-dinner pyjama movie night.

you try to hand her the bright pink guitar pick, but vi shakes her head.

“it’s yours. you’re gonna need it if you want more lessons.” 

“hm, or maybe i could sell it for a billion dollars once you’re a big rockstar,” you tease. “i can picture thousands of fangirls painting your portrait and writing mrs. violet lanes in their notebooks.” 

you get up, shoot her a wink, and leave vi on the bed, clutching her guitar and trying to get her pulse under control. 

neither of you say anything as you both get changed. the stereo plays the mixtape you’d made for her — you got her for secret santa this year.

“my mom loved this song,” vi hums, a warm ache growing in her chest when the next song plays. this is the second christmas without her, but vi is still not used to using past tense. “she thought freddie mercury was the best rockstar of all time.”

“i remember. you…you must miss her.” 

of course she does, and she could run through a million reasons why.

“vander says you’ll be spending new year’s at your dad’s,” is what she says instead.

you let out something between a scoff and a laugh. “yeah.”

“your mom going, too?”

“just me and ekko. i swear, it’s like he’s trying to be this perfect dad to his new stepkids, meanwhile he’s the one who left us here to deal with his mess, the one who just ran away, and….whatever.” this time, you do scoff. “hey – do you have a shirt i could borrow?”

vi looks over to find that you’ve switched from the velvet dress you wore during dinner into a pair of flannel plaid pants; her cheeks flush when she sees that you’re only wearing a black lacy bralette on top. 

she clears her throat and pulls a clean jersey from her dresser, tosses it over to you. 

“that’s a shame. i was looking forward to spending new year’s eve together.”

you hum and slip the shirt over your shoulders. the only sources of light are the moon and the stars and the multicoloured christmas lights strung along vi’s walls, but she swore that your eyes flick down to her lips. 

“why’s that?” you ask. 

there’s something absolutely dizzying about being this close to you, the way your sparkly eyes wait patiently for her to respond. joni mitchell sings about skating away on a river, and vi wishes she could skate away from this conversation, but there’s nowhere to go. 

vi blinks away from your gaze and fixates on one of the many things she’s pinned up on her bedroom walls throughout the years. it’s a page torn from an old notebook of yours, something from seventh grade math class, but vi always loved your little drawings in the margins. 

vi?” you prompt, never one to let go easily.

“i want to kiss you at midnight,” she confesses.

“yeah?” 

vi nods. she’s tempted to walk out of her room, down the stairs and out into the winter night, until you weave your fingers through hers and squeeze her hand. she looks up — and you’re beaming, a smile that brightens vi’s entire being. 

“i want that too.”

vi finally, finally crashes her mouth onto yours, lips sticky with marshmallow fluff.

you taste like vanilla and gingerbread and hot chocolate that is definitely not spiked with irish cream that vi slipped into your mugs while you distracted the adults. 

you taste like home.

….

so, slight change of plans….i’m gonna stay here in london with the rest of the band. apparently the kirammans throw a super fancy holiday party with super fancy people every year, and cait convinced her parents to let us perform. fingers crossed someone important discovers us.

merry christmas, baby. and, if i don’t get the chance to say it: happy new year.

….

track 2: winter wonderland by darlene love

(winter — age 12)

you’re supposed to be looking after ekko while your parents are at work, but all that really means is making a big bowl of kraft dinner and stove-top s’mores for lunch and watching old christmas specials on the worn-out living room couch while you draw in your sketchbook and your brother, only 7 years old, programs the doorbell to play ‘jingle bells.’ 

when someone rings the doorbell, the tune floats through the house and wakes up your dog who starts barking like it’s the end of the world. 

“easy, ziggy.” you click a marker closed and run a hand through the husky’s fur, attempting to calm him down. “let’s go see who it is.”

you open the door, and there’s vi: snowflakes sparkling on her eyelashes, pink hair hidden under a knitted hat, and a toothy grin that brings out the dimple in her flushed cheeks. she’s also got a split lip and crooked nose from her last hockey game.

“we’re building a fort,” she tells you. she shuffles to the side so that you can see powder, who’s making a snow angel. “well, we’re going to. wanna join?”

you nod, smiling. “ekko!” 

your brother’s already behind you, slipping on his chunky boots and oversized coat that used to be yours before running outside and collapsing onto the fluffy snow next to powder. ziggy bolts outside, too, running circles around them. 

you stumble to get your winter gear on as fast as possible, the cold air rushing inside your front hallway as vi waits for you, kicking her snowy boot against the concrete entryway step. not even a heartbeat after shutting the door behind you, vi takes your gloved hand in hers and pulls you forward, the two of you a flurry of laughter.

…..

hey, pretty girl. i was at this party and one of your songs came on! every time i hear it, i’m in awe of how amazing it is….how amazing you are. i’m basically walking home in a snowstorm, so i’m gonna go before my fingers freeze off, but i just wanted to say that i’m so proud of my rockstar girlfriend.

i was also wondering: are you coming home any time soon? the holidays are coming up, and i really miss you. we all do.  

…..

track 3: last christmas by wham!

(winter — now)

vi should have learned from sonic youth and fleetwood mac: 

no sex or romance between bandmates. it never ends well.

it was bad enough giving into the rumors and fooling around with cait, but it’s another layer of messiness now that cait and maddie dating. meanwhile, cait is very much still bitter towards vi, vi is very much pining after someone whom she’s pretty sure never wants to see her again, and steb and lorris are very much caught in the middle. it’s no wonder the band’s manager suggested everyone take some time apart to ease the tension. frankly, while others protested, vi was almost relieved at the suggestion.

so cait’s off to london, maddie’s off to glasgow, the boys are going god knows where, and vi —

vi’s heading back home, back to you.

she wakes up in the bed of her childhood for the first time in a long time. her dad put on fresh sheets, but they’re still the same ones from back then — worn flannel with cartoon penguins. it takes a lot of willpower to untangle herself from the warmth and cloud-like softness, but eventually she heads downstairs to the kitchen.

powder still has exams so she’s not home from college until tomorrow, and vander’s gone to work. it’s just vi in her too-small christmas pyjamas (she has yet to unpack), eating a box of stale cinnamon pop-tarts for breakfast even though it’s well past noon. curiosity gets the best of her, so she peers through the window to see if anyone is next door.

your mom’s car is in the driveway, completely snowed in. there had only been a dusting of snow while vi was devouring the first pastry, but four pop-tarts in and it’s about doubled. she waits until the snow stops falling; with nothing better to do and a sugar rush to burn off, vi pulls on her old winter coat and snow boots she hasn’t worn since she was 18, grabs a shovel from the garage, and gets to work. 

it doesn’t take her long to clear the driveway, and she has some adrenaline to spare, so she decides to be a good neighbor. 

vi’s heaving one last shovelful of snow over her shoulder when she hears:

“violet? is that you?” 

she turns around. and, okay the first thing she registers is ziggy running towards her, the husky toppling her over into the snow.

“i missed you too, zig,” vi laughs. 

she gets up as ziggy’s still bounding around in the snow, and sees your mom standing in the doorway, looking a little more tired and a little more gray. but the smile on her face when she sees that it is, in fact, vi — it’s so bright that the snow might not exactly melt away, but the years sure do. 

vi remembers making snow angels with you while your moms gossiped over tea, how the two of you would stomp inside with a mess of slush and snow while laughter echoed from the living room. vi remembers your mom keeping a comforting arm around her shoulder through her mom’s funeral while you held her hand. she remembers your mom helping her pick out the perfect corsage to match your suit at prom, making a joke about how next time it might be an engagement ring, and telling vi how proud her mother would have been of her at your high school graduation party. 

with the golden glow of nostalgia comes a crashing wave of guilt at what vi said to you last time you spoke. 

“come inside, sweetheart. i’ll make you some hot cocoa as a thank you.”

vi is tempted to reject the offer, but your mom looks so hopeful and vi’s fingers are about to freeze off, anyways. 

so your mom makes hot cocoa as vi defrosts, the two of them chatting in the familiar yellow kitchen that you and vi once almost burnt down while trying to bake a cake for powder’s birthday. even the magnets and paper memories decorating the fridge are the same, with the addition of an article about vi’s band that was featured in the rolling stone, pinned up by a ceramic cow. 

“she’s an art teacher now,” your mom tells vi after giving an update on ekko. she glances at the oven clock. “speaking of which — i know you just finished shoveling our driveway, but do you mind helping me with another favor?”

“after the world’s best hot chocolate? anything.”

“i told my daughter that i’d pick her up from work, and i’m wondering if you would be able to take care of that.” your mom smiles. “i’m sensing a bad migraine coming on.”

the last sip of hot chocolate trickles down vi’s throat like cement. she knew she’d be seeing you, but didn’t quite plan for how that….reunion might go.

“of course,” vi says. 

vi puts both of their mugs in the dishwasher, about to grab the car keys from the hook by the door when your mom calls out: 

“oh, and violet?” vi turns around. “i’m so glad you’re home.”

you’re talking to a student when vi enters the art room of your old high school. nothing else in the building had changed — same boring concrete, same scratched up lockers, same graffiti immortalizing whom hooked up with whom. this room is the exception, vibrant with how students’ art is displayed all around, paintings and drawings and collages, and you’ve strung up multicolored christmas lights that give the whole space a cozy ambiance. you look the part of a cool, young art teacher: wearing a simple dark purple turtleneck tucked into black jeans and the same combat boots you’ve had since tenth grade, paint stains on your skin that is exposed by rolled up sleeves, and a marker behind your ear. you’re standing in front of an easel, talking to the student who happens to notice vi before you do.

“holy shit. is that violet lanes?”

vi watches as your face scrunches up in confusion, and then falls into shock when you see her standing there.

“it seems that it is violet lanes,” you state coolly while the student squeals. “what are you doing here?”

“oh, i, uh,” vi clears her throat, her palms sweaty. why is her body reacting like she’s a teenager about to ask out her crush for the first time? “your mom wasn’t feeling great, asked if i could pick you up from work.”

“you guys are friends?” the student asks, eyes wide as they flick between you and vi. 

“we used to date, actually,” vi clarifies. wrong move, she realizes, because you can’t help but glare at her.

“oh my god.” the student squeals again and reaches in their pocket to whip out their phone. “i need to tell alyssa that ms. l/n was in a relationship with the violet lanes. are you guys gonna get back together? oh my god, have you come to win her back —”

“layla,” you clip, and by the furrow of layla’s brow, it seems like you’re not usually so stern. you smile at layla, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “you’ve done some great work today, but you’ll have to finish this when we’re back from winter break. do you mind giving ms. lanes and i a minute?”

layla nods once, gathers her things. when she walks past vi, she can’t help but ask for an autograph. vi complies, of course, even lets her take a selfie. a fan is a fan, after all.

and, quite frankly this is the only part of being in the band that she still enjoys: hearing how excited young girls are at the music she writes, the music that vi wished she had growing up, about girls liking girls, about girls falling in and out of love with each other. everything else is just an occupational hazard that vi’s getting more and more fed up with. 

when vi turns her attention back to you, you’re finished putting all the material away, wiping your hands with an already paint-stained towel.

“i meant what you’re doing back in town,” you explain, not quite meeting vi’s eyes. you pack away some books and your laptop into a supple leather briefcase, and slip on your coat. vi’s cheeks flush when you catch her watching you. 

“it…it doesn’t matter. i’m here for a while, though.” 

you sigh. “okay.” and you don’t say anything more. vi keeps up with you as you switch off the lights, lock the door, and stride to the parking lot in silence. when you get to the car, you extend your hand.

“i’m driving,” you say, gesturing at her to give you the keys. “we both know that you’re a terrible driver.”

“i’m not a terrible driver,” vi guffaws. 

“says the lesbian who gives the rest of us a bad name,” you quip, a hint of a smile dancing across your lips, like the first bout of sun after a winter storm. “c’mon, pretty girl. i’m not giving up, so unless you wanna freeze to death….” 

the nickname slips effortlessly from your tongue, so much so that you don’t even seem to realize it, but vi’s breath hitches and she’s more than happy to fold to your every whim if it means hearing you call her pretty one more time. 

“so….” vi glances over at you from the passenger seat. a snowy landscape passes outside the window, and you tap on the steering wheel to a generic christmas song that plays through the stereo. “you’re teaching high school now?” 

she wonders if you remember the last fight you had, almost two years ago to the day.

you keep your eyes on the road. “yeah. guess i graduated from finger-painting with kindergarteners.”

vi feels her cheeks heat up all over again. 

so, you do remember. 

she wonders if you’ve replayed it over and over again and hoped for a different ending like she did. she should have thought more about what to actually say to you —

“you know, i never understood why you liked this song so much,” you suddenly say when the radio starts playing dolly parton’s cover of ‘i’ll be home for christmas.’ 

vi can read between the lines, but she’s waiting for you to point out the irony in her preference for a song that’s about someone wanting to go home for christmas, something vi has deliberately avoided at all costs these past few years. 

“it just seems kinda sad,” you continue. 

“you love ‘last christmas,’ and that one’s pretty sad,” vi points out.

“sure, but it ends hopefully.”

“oh?” vi tilts her head towards you. “how’d you figure? 

“sure, it’s someone singing about heartbreak and how much it sucks during christmastime, but then there’s this hope that they still find true love down the line. it’s a maybe that isn’t hopeless.” you shrug. “meanwhile, your song ends with the lyric ‘if only in my dreams,’ which just seems too accepting of the fact that going home for christmas, being with the person they love — it might just be a dream.”

“i don’t know. some dreams do come true,” vi muses. 

by now, you’ve made it home. you put the car in park but keep the engine going, presumably to avoid becoming icicles. neither of you make a move to leave. 

you glance over at vi. “your dreams sure came true, ms. violet lanes,” you joke, but there’s an air of sadness to it.

“not all of them.”

“yeah? which ones haven’t?”

vi swallows the lump in her throat and hopes that you understand the look in her eyes. “let’s just say i’m working on them.”

you blink away and cut the engine.

….

you’re still dealing with the shock of seeing vi back in town when your brother, freshly home from college, suggests going skating. 

he can be fairly convincing, especially when he mentions that it’s a christmas season tradition, so, you prepare for what is essentially a double date with your brother, his girlfriend/your ex-girlfriend’s sister, and your ex-girlfriend, with isha as a fifth wheel.

should be fun. 

it turns out, despite all her past hockey experience, vi really cannot skate. in fact, skating seems to be the complete opposite of riding a bike: she’s terrible at it after years off the ice, essentially reenacting that scene from bambi. it’s easier to ignore vi’s presence when she’s sitting next to the snack bar, by herself, but then powder skates up next to you and asks if you’d be kind enough to please help her sister have a good time. you roll your eyes at her shit-eating grin, but it is a bit sad, watching vi on the sidelines. she’s wearing a beanie and a pair of sunglasses to hide her identity, and now she kinda looks like a divorced dad watching his grown kids pass him by while he’s stuck in a midlife crisis.

you convince vi to give skating another shot — it’s tradition after all — and pull her out onto the rink. you start by holding her from behind, keeping her hips steady until she gets the hang of it. you try to let go, but vi stumbles and reaches out for your gloved hand, and you melt into the familiarity of her fingers curled around yours. the two of you fall into a comfortable rhythm, first with you pulling vi along, then with her taking the lead, until vi almost knocks into a small child.

“see what i mean by you being a bad driver?” you jest, successfully maneuvering to avoid collision. 

then, you follow where vi’s eyes have settled — on powder and isha laughing and chasing each other around the rink. vi had asked earlier when isha had dyed her hair blue; you still have some residue under your nails from last weekend, when powder came for a study break and the three of you ended up helping isha achieve a new look she’d apparently been itching to try. 

“you know powder’s graduating this year?” 

“she overloaded her credits so she could get out of there as soon as possible,” you explain, having had many conversations with powder leading up to the decision. 

vi nods, her jaw clenched. you already know what she’s thinking, and frankly, you agree: that vi hasn’t been here, literally and figuratively. you also feel the warmth of vi’s skin radiating through her glove to yours, notice the slight flush to her freckled cheeks, how chapped her lips are from the cold, so much so that you’re tempted to share the vanilla chapstick you’ve got on your own lips, to kiss her deeply like you did last time you were here, together.

it’s only been three days since vi’s been back home. this is only the second time you’ve seen her, and you’re already falling back into old patterns, tempted to ask her to stay, to try again, even though you already know the answer.

except….not staying isn’t the deal breaker it used to be, so maybe trying again isn’t as hopeless as you think it is.

vi squeezes your hand, and you realize that you’ve stopped skating entirely. 

“hey. you still with me?”

you nod, decide to enjoy this moment for as long as you can, and the two of you glide across the ice.

…..

when you suggest making stove-top s’mores, it’s another item on the list of things she’d missed. 

a list that’s been growing a lot these past few days.

vi offers to make more once you’ve all run out, and ekko follows her into their kitchen while you, powder, and isha keep watching christmas specials in the living room. she turns on the gas stove, stabs a marshmallow through a wooden skewer and waits for it to roast — and, for ekko to say something.

“i don’t know what happened between you and my sister, but i need you to promise me that the tabloids aren’t true. that you and that kiramman chick didn’t hook up…at least until after y’all broke up.” 

“or, what, you’re gonna challenge me to an arm wrestle? think you can finally beat me?”

“oh, i know it.”

a pause. the marshmallow catches on fire and vi blows on it to quell the damage.

“i didn’t cheat on her.” she throws out the burnt marshmallow and gives it another shot. “i would never. does….does she think i did?”

ekko shrugs. “not sure. some of those articles are pretty convincing. but, since you’re promising me that you didn’t…”

“i didn’t.”

“then that saves me from kicking your ass.” ekko nods once and uncrosses his arms, handing vi some graham crackers and chocolate. “actually, i could use your help with something.”

“sure.”

“she applied to this great art residency in new york, like, on whim. the only people she’s told are me, powder, and vander….i think she’s nervous to tell mom, at least until she knows for sure she’s gotten in, but this is the most excited i’ve seen her be about something in a while, and she worked really hard on her application…” 

“i’m sure she did,” vi states. “what do you need my help with?”

“convincing her to go.” 

“i’d love to help, but i’m not sure i’m someone she’d wanna hear from, especially about this. she was never a fan of me leaving to pursue my dreams.”

“she was never a fan of you leaving,” ekko corrects. “she’s still a fan of you pursuing your dreams.” he juts his chin out at the article stuck to the fridge. 

vi had just assumed that your mom had pinned that up.

“okay.” vi says. “i’ll talk to her.” 

a plateful of semi-burnt s’mores later, and vi and ekko return to the living room with the rest of you. 

vi forgot how nice this felt, all of you cuddled on the couch, ziggy included, watching how the grinch stole christmas. she half expects her mom to walk in through the door without even knocking, shake the snow off her hair, and hold up a batch of pre-baked gingerbread people she’d gotten for the kids to decorate.

but that’s not happening. other than isha, none of you are kids anymore and things can never be the same.

and yet — you glance over at vi and give her a sticky marshmallow smile, and she feels her heart grow three sizes.

….

baby, i swear it’s not what it looks like. the record label thought it would be good promo to get a picture of me kissing under the mistletoe…’tis the season and all that…..cait and i were both really drunk and things got a bit out of hand….but it looks worse than it is. i swear on my mother’s grave that nothing happened.

please call me back, baby…..i’m so fucking sorry….please. 

it’s not christmas without at least hearing your voice. 

….

track 4: river by joni mitchell

(winter — age 23)

it’s hard to believe that hours ago, you were kissing vi backstage and showering her with praise after the concert. she was happy to indulge in your excitement, even though she was all sweaty and her ears were still ringing from the crowd. 

more than happy, in fact. phone sex can only go so far, and it’d been too long since vi had seen you writhe and heard you whimper for her firsthand. 

“i missed you so fucking much,” you groan, tightening your grip on vi’s hair. it’s now an inky black instead of fuschia — the band’s starting to lean more punk rock. 

a particularly hard thrust is her way of telling you that she missed you too. so fucking much. she throws your legs over her shoulders, pushing the strap deeper inside you and digging her knees into the mattress as she coaxes you through another orgasm. you pull her down for one last searing kiss, your tongue searching each crevice of her mouth. 

“i can’t believe you’re here,” vi continues a few moments later, after you’re both cleaned up and getting dressed. she wants to add something along the lines of i love you, but she bites back the sentiment. she’ll save that sappy shit for later tonight, when she finally gets down on one knee for you. 

you glance back at her from where you’re pulling out a sparkly silver dress from your side of the closet (and isn’t that such a slip of the mind? your side, as if it’s a shared closet and a shared bedroom and a shared home; if she thought about it more, though, she would realize that, though she has no problem asking you to marry her, she’s still terrified at the thought of staying in one place for more than a few months).

“me neither,” you smile. 

vi walks over to you, presses her half-dressed body against your lingerie-clad form (vi’s sure you wore this fuschia set just to drive her insane; it’s working). she lodges her hand behind your ear and pulls you in closer, kisses you deeply because you’re here and she missed you so fucking much and she’s so ready to make you her wife.

she could write a whole record just about the taste of your lips: the sweetness of vanilla chapstick, the saltiness of sweat and the headiness lingering from the wetness you lapped up from between her legs.

you pull away first. vi tries not to stare at how your chest heaves, your breasts straining against intricate lace. 

“we, um.” you clear your throat. you slip your hand underneath vi’s blazer, and she groans when you make contact with the exposed, burning skin of her abdomen. vi thinks you’re about to suggest another round, or two, or ten, but instead you untangle yourself from her and say: “we should probably get ready.”

the after party is going well. the club’s busy, the music’s good, and the drinks are flowing.

you seem to be having a great time until someone (probably cait or maddie, on cait’s behalf) lets it slip that the band’s heading to london later in the month to start recording their new album before the end of the year….something vi decidedly did not want to tell you until later tonight, after the high of the proposal, after she’s promised you that she’s dedicated to this relationship, that she’s always been dedicated to you. 

instead, vi’s trailing behind you as you angrily stomp towards the bathroom, her mind scrambling to come up with a way out of this argument.

there’s a line, but you cut in front and slip inside as soon as someone walks out. 

“wait, what the fu —”

you slam the door and lock it behind you once you’re both inside, ignoring the subsequent banging and jiggling of the handle.

“please, baby, let me explain —”

“i can’t fucking believe you,” your voice is steady, measured, and for some reason that makes vi even more nervous. “you give empty promise after empty promise that you’ll be more present, but something always gets in the way, is always more important than —”

“don’t you dare say that you’re not important to me. i offer to fly you out anywhere to be with me, but you’ve only taken me up on the offer once. twice, now.”

“it’s been five years, vi. five years of us staying together because….god, at this point i don’t even know why — ”

“do you not understand how much i love you?” vi raises her voice over the sound of the club music outside. “i was gonna propose tonight.”

you stare at her, then start to laugh.

“please tell me you’re joking.”

“i’m not.”

“if you think marriage will save us, then you’re delusional. what was your plan — call me your wife while we’re thousands of miles apart, but not even have the time to answer my calls? we’re barely in a relationship now, vi. all that’s left between us are missed calls and voicemails —” 

“oh that’s really all that’s left between us?” 

“i love you, violet. i have since we were kids. but, now, there’s also all this — the parties, the crowds, the fame….you’ve gone all over the world, and you can’t even be bothered to visit your family during the holidays.”

“well i’m sorry that my ambitions are bigger than that nothing town we grew up in,” vi snaps. “i can’t believe you’re throwing a tantrum because i’m not making it home for christmas. for what? so we can all reminisce by the fireplace, pretend that we can be kids again, even though things can —” vi chokes back a sob, soothes it with a healthy dose of anger. “things can never be the same. you need to grow the fuck up.”

“maybe you should be the one to grow up!” you finally yell. “convincing yourself that this relationship is working, meanwhile you’re running away from everything and everyone you grew up with because it reminds you of your —”

“at least i’m not afraid to actually go after my dreams,” vi cuts you off before you can finish that sentence, uses the broken shards of your words against you. “don’t you want more for your life than finger-painting with a bunch of kindergarteners? you’re gonna end up just like your deadbeat mom, going nowhere, drinking yourself to sleep, all alone, with nothing to show for the life you’ve lived.”

as soon as the words leave her mouth, vi wishes she could take them back. you don’t bother swallowing your tears, letting them rush down your cheeks. vi digs her nails into her palms to prevent herself from reaching out and wiping them. it wouldn’t make sense, anyways. she’s the reason you’re crying. 

you take a deep, shaky breath.

“yeah, well, i’m glad that your mom isn’t alive to see what a selfish asshole you’ve become.” there’s a pause, and vi feels her stomach turn at your casual cruelty, your quiet anger. “i’m gonna pack up my stuff and catch the first flight out of here. merry fucking christmas and happy fucking new year. have a nice life.”

vi screams and throws the velvet box against the door you’ve slammed shut behind you. the hot tears that were building in her throat finally boil over. the engagement ring clatters onto the floor.

…..

vi? it’s me. not sure if you’ve blocked my number. i wouldn’t blame you. i know it’s been, like, a year, but it feels weird not hearing your voice for this long, especially around the holidays. well, i guess i could just turn on the radio….it’s not the same, though. anyways, merry christmas. happy new year, too. and….and i’m sorry. 

please come home.

…..

track 5: i’ll be home for christmas by dolly parton 

(winter — now)

karaoke at the last drop used to be one of vi’s favorite christmas traditions, so you decidedly avoided it at all cost since the breakup. vander always tried to convince you to join, but he understood and even made sure to not give you a shift during that time after you started working there at 21. 

you kept the job because, evidently, high school art teachers don’t make a ton of money, and you would one day like to move out of your mother’s house. 

which, as it turns out, might happen sooner rather than later. you applied for this artist residency in new york, and, yeah, you put time and effort and heart into your application, but you were sure that you’d be rejected. while you got your acceptance email this morning, and you were so fucking overjoyed at first, the thought of leaving still terrifies you, so you’ll postpone worrying about that until after the holidays. that’s what they’re for, anyways: a break from reality, a peek into a cozy snow-covered world where everyone is festive and joyous and worry-free.   

right now though, you’re feeling neither festive nor joyous. gert called in sick, and no one else is able to cover for them, so you’re stuck at the last drop on christmas eve, listening to one of your old high school classmates drunkenly fumble the lyrics of darlene love’s ‘christmas (baby, please come home).’

about three verses in, vi walks into the bar with mylo and claggor, flakes of fluffy snow melting into her grayish pink hair. you’re already pouring their drinks before they reach the counter. mylo and claggor offer their sincere appreciation, chattering away as they leave to snag a booth in the corner. vi stares at her drink before grabbing the beer glass. 

“you remember.” 

“are you surprised?”

vi smiles. “no. it’s just nice. cait keeps insisting i order gin martinis instead. says it’s classier.” 

something sour curdles in your stomach. “yeah, well. i’ve always liked you the way you are.”

that probably ended up sounding like you’re still pining after vi (which you’re….not) rather than the bitter comment you intended it to be. 

vi’s soft blue eyes search yours. 

“i better get back to the boys,” she finally says. “maybe sign up for a song or two.”

you’re busy clearing a table when you hear her voice again. actually — a silence fills the bar, and it’s replaced by the lush rumble of vi singing ‘last christmas.’

you watch her as she performs, eyes locked on yours, and it’s over before you know it. you feel like you should go say something to her, but then there are a bunch of excited fans that she has to attend to, signing autographs, taking photos.

as you swallow your disappointment, the normal chatter of the bar resumes. you’re walking back to the kitchen when you feel someone pinch the back of your thigh, right under your ass. you whip around to find that old classmate who butchered a christmas classic an hour or so before (james, you think his name is, from ninth grade science), with the most arrogant smirk.

“hey, gorgeous. my friends and i were just arguing over who should take you home tonight.” he gestures towards a table of guys who look like equally preppy assholes. “i won the chugging contest.”

“good for you,” you say, balancing a tray of empty glasses. “grope someone in here again, and you’ll be sorry you did.” you turn around to get back to work, but james grabs your wrist and stands up abruptly so you’re chest-to-chest.

“i don’t think you understand what i’m offering, baby.” you gag at the nickname and the stench of beer on his breath. you’re a bartender, you’re used to getting hit on, but creeps like this are the worst.

you rip away from his grasp. 

“i’m not interested,” you snap. “and i’m not your baby.”

“listen.” james puts his hands on your shoulders, and if both of your hands were free, you would promptly push him away. everyone’s having a good time and you don’t wanna cause a scene, so you try to think of ways to get this asshole out of the bar and into the snow without much of a fight. “you know, santa might come down your chimney on christmas eve, but if you’ve been a good girl this year i’ll come down your —” 

“there you are!” powder’s voice is loud over the sound of someone singing another generic christmas carol. she knocks into your side, breathless. “sorry we’re late. had some car trouble.”

“well, hello.” he removes his hands from your shoulders, shifts his predatory gaze from you to powder. 

oh, fuck no.

“powder,” you keep your voice steady even if your heart is racing. “go back to the table. i’ll be there in a sec.”

james reaches out for powder, but you punch him square in the jaw before he can so much as touch her, the tray of glasses crashing on the floor. 

james’ flirtatious smile is long gone, replaced with the kind of anger only egotistical, self-important jerks have when they don’t get what they want and they’ve taken a blow to their ego. 

in fact, he’s angry enough to deliver a punch right back to your face.

you hear a crack upon impact, and pain radiates from your nose. you stumble, but powder manages to catch you before you tumble into the broken glass. she holds you as people start yelling. you think that vander rushes over, too, shouting at james to get the fuck out of his bar and never step foot in it again. 

you lick your lips, tasting blood. your ears are ringing, and everything is all a bit fuzzy. powder tries her best, but you slump your body weight into hers and she almost topples over.

“i’ve got her.” vi’s surprisingly calm voice cuts through the chaos. you feel a strong, familiar arm wrap around your waist to steady you. 

somehow, you find yourself in the bathroom, sitting on the counter as vi stands between your legs. she carefully examines your injury, but you notice how she avoids making eye contact. 

you feel your head spinning all over again. maybe it’s the adrenaline, or the fact that the two of you haven’t been this close in a while.

“remember teaching me how to throw a punch?” the question slips past your lips before you can stop it.

vi looks slightly amused, and she finally meets your gaze. “‘course i do,” she hums. “you tried to convince me to help you start an all-female fight club at school.”

a smile creeps onto your face, despite the pain from your nose.

she remembers. 

somewhere within her, vi holds on to fragments of you.

“thank god the principal vetoed it. would’ve been a disaster,” she continues.

vi wipes the blood off your face, the sleeve of her silk red button-down now stained a darker crimson. “how’s your hand?” she asks. 

you flex your fingers. “it’s been better,” you answer, your knuckles slightly aching. “totally worth it.”

vi smiles sadly. “i guess you’ve been the one protecting my sister while i’ve been away.”

while i’ve been away. 

the reminder feels like a stab to the heart. 

vi’s back home, sure, but only for a limited time. 

her fingers graze your cheek, and the breath hitches in your throat.

“you know, i only wanted to start that fight club as an elaborate plan to spend more time together,” you confess, opting to preserve the delicate bubble of nostalgia you’d stumbled into together. “we were each so busy….i had studio, and you were always away at hockey games. it wasn’t realistic in the end, though.”

“i would’ve stayed if you asked,” she tells you, and you wonder exactly what she might be referring to. 

you swallow the lump in your throat. “it’s what you loved, though.”

“but i - i loved you, more. you had to have known that.”

“yeah, well. i loved you, too,” you explain, and it’s clear that neither of you are talking about a lesbian fight club. “whether it was hockey, or music….as long your heart was in it, it was more worth it to let you go, to not stand in the way of your dreams.” 

“you were my dream.”

you scoff, cheeks heating up, and look away. “you probably say that to all the girls.”

“no.” vi guides your chin towards her. “just the one.”

it’s hard to determine who leans in first, but soon enough your lips are on vi’s— messy, urgent. noses bumping together, teeth clacking against each other. she cradles your face in her hands, and you wrap your legs around her waist to bring her closer. you taste beer on her tongue, and maybe a hint of lime, but it’s overwhelmed by the salty, metallic taste of blood stained on your lips. when you run out of air, you pull away. it’s clearer now: you’re not dizzy from the adrenaline, but dizzy from her. vi’s gaze is heavy on yours as she traces your top lip with her thumb.

“vi,” you whimper, itching to kiss her again. 

“you’re still bleeding.”

vi wipes away the blood with the sleeve of her shirt. before either of you can do or say anything more, there’s a knock on the door. vander, wondering if you’re okay and if maybe you could hurry up and get back to work. 

you can’t sleep that night. before, staying up on christmas eve was an elaborate operation to catch santa. now, it’s overthinking a very hot kiss and all the unresolved tension between you and your ex-girlfriend next door. 

logically, you knew that you missed vi, everything about her and who she is, the way you would laugh and argue and make love. but the rush of feeling her tongue licking into your mouth, her body melding into yours after being apart for so long….

you’re scared that she won’t feel the same, but you’re even more terrified of letting the moment slip through both your fingers without at least trying. 

so, you grab your phone, deciding to finally reach out to her, when by some christmas miracle you get a text from her.

she climbs through your window not long after, wearing plaid boxer shorts and a zaun university sweatshirt you’ve been looking for, for about five years. you didn’t bother to change, either, only wearing an oversized shirt. you sit cross-legged on your bed as she waits by the window. vi stares at your chest for a good few seconds, and you remember that you’re wearing one of her band’s concert tees, faded from years of wear. 

“so, um,” vi starts, her voice as soft as the well-worn cotton of your shirt. “we have so much shit to talk about and figure out, but, i, uh, can’t stop thinking about early tonight —”

“vi.” the swarm of butterflies in your stomach is replaced by something more delicate, more urgent. “do you wanna come sit?”

vi swallows thickly, looking between you and the still open window. a winter breeze rushes through. you shiver, thinking she might just turn around and disappear into the cold night. instead, she shuts the window, removes her snow-covered boots, and settles onto the bed next to you.

you place a tentative hand on her cheek, still cold and slightly flushed. she shudders when you run your thumb over the tattoo under her eye.

“i know there’s a lot we have to work through.” you take a deep breath as she shifts closer, suddenly dizzy from the familiar scent of her winter pine old-spice body wash. “right now….right now, i just want you.”

“yeah?” vi smirks, her shyness melting away. she settles a warm hand on your bare thigh. “how do you want me?”

you exhale sharply when her hand travels higher, dull nails scraping at the fabric of your underwear. 

“it’s cute that you’re flustered,” she quips, leaning in even closer. her breath is warm and heavy against your lips. “because i’ve spent so many night replaying all the dirty, nasty things we used to —”

you tug her sweatshirt and pull her back onto the bed, feeling her body solid against yours. the vibration of her groan shudders through your body when you crash your lips onto hers with such hunger, you’d think you had been starving without her. 

“how’s about an encore, superstar?” you drawl. 

you bite your lip hard at how vi nods at you desperately, eyes all dark and lustful.

“you read my mind,” she breathes. by now, her hand has reached the hem of your shirt, and she pushes up the cotton to reveal the supple skin of your stomach. you give her permission to remove it, leaving your top half exposed.

her lips nip and suck down your body until she reaches the waistband of your panties. she pulls it up with her teeth, the elastic snapping back when she lets go. you whine her name, and she looks up at you with dark eyes. 

“can i?” her breath fans over your navel, her nails digging into your hips as she waits for your answer.  

“yes. please.”

you hadn’t meant to sound so desperate, but you could feel vi smirk against your inner thigh before sinking her teeth into it. you whimper, and vi salves her tongue over the area to ease the sting before removing your underwear. she positions your legs over her shoulders for better access to where you need her most.

vi moves her tongue and fingers in all the ways she remembers makes you shake, curl your toes, and grind down on her face. in return, you grip her pink hair, tightly, and utter praise in all the ways you remember makes her shake. 

“just like that, pretty girl,” you encourage, practically melting into the mattress. it feels so good — dangerously good, intoxicating, even — to be devoured by vi.  “keep doing a good job and i’ll return the favor later.”

vi’s moan vibrates throughout your body and she becomes faster, reaches her tongue deeper, bringing you over the edge. she leaves a few more bites on your body on her way up to meet you and when she does, vi’s lips and chin are shining with your release.

you lean forward slightly to lick it up. you ghost your mouth over hers.

“your turn,” you taunt and run your thumb over her tattooed cheek. 

you twist your calf around vi’s leg and flip your positions. she lets out a yelp when her back hits the mattress. once you’re hovering over her, legs and arms on either side of her body, you do what you’re sure you’d never get tired of doing: you kiss her, passionately, deeply. you bite her lip as you pull away. 

there was always a bit of jealousy that gnawed at you, became your very-own shoulder devil that you just couldn’t shake when you were together, no matter how hard you tried. it was no secret that vi was admired by many, that girls around the world were crushing on her, hoping they’d catch her eye, get their chance with her. you never felt like she was yours, and yours alone. 

but you do get a deep satisfaction knowing that right here, right now, you’re the only person who gets to see her like this — pink hair splayed across the pillows like her very own halo, but the rest of her telling a much less-angelic, much more sinister story: her lips swollen and kiss-bitten, her cheeks a devilish shade of red, her eyes dark and lustful and waiting for you to make the next move. 

"you want me to have my way with you?" you whisper, voice honeyed with desire.

vi whimpers, a sound that fuels the fire in your abdomen. "yes."

you practically rip off her sweatshirt, kiss down her jaw, her neck, her exposed chest and sternum down to her stomach. vi lifts her hips from the bed so that you can remove her boxers, and you’re delighted to find nothing else underneath. 

you’re greeted by her glistening pussy. blowing onto her folds, you run your tongue from her hole to her clit, loving how you already feel her slick coating your lips. vi spread her legs even wider, and you take the opportunity to sink two fingers into her cunt. you know her body, as well as you know your own, as well as she knows yours. you flick your gaze up, view slightly blocked by the pink curls of her bush, but you can still picture it — how her eyes roll back, how her mouth opens to release a perfectly delicious gasp.

"god, i've barely touched you and you're already about to cum. did you miss me that much?" you tease, feeling her clench around your fingers. as if you aren’t subtly rutting your hips against the mattress, eager to ease the throbbing between your legs. 

all you get in response is whine. it’s muffled, and you crane your neck upward to see her biting down on her knuckles, so hard you’re worried she might break skin. 

unacceptable.

the rest of the world gets to hear her every day, any time they please. you want to be serenaded by the lyrics of her want, the notes of her desire. all for you and you alone.

with your other hand, you reach up to pinch one of her pierced nipples, always so sensitive. "answer me, violet."

vi props herself up on her elbows to look at you, just as you remove your mouth from her.

"yes!" she sings, practically sobbing. you'd be lying if you said you didn't feel the throbbing between your thighs intensify, hearing the frantic lilt of her voice — like she needs you and only you. "i missed you so fucking much. please, just do something."

at her request, you move up the bed so that the two of you are face to face, one of your hands holding her chin while the other is two fingers deep in her cunt. you add another, just to reveal in the timber of her sultry moan. she tries to bring her hand back, to quiet herself, but you shake your head. 

with your thumb, you trace over her lips, uneven and scarred and imperfectly beautiful. "open." 

vi obeys you instantly. you spit in her mouth, heart racing as you watch her swallow the combination of your saliva and her cum without question.

you continue fucking her with your fingers until she moans, louder and louder as she reaches her peak.

removing your fingers from her pussy, you lock eyes with her as you bring your syrupy fingers to your mouth and suck off her juices. then, you kiss underneath her ear, lips sticking slightly to her skin, and you whisper: "now i know why they say you have the voice of an angel.”

“fuck,” she exhales, the breath turning into a chuckle as you kiss underneath her chin, where you know she’s ticklish.

"one more time for me, okay, pretty girl? i want to feel you against me," you whisper. "i want to watch you fall apart, knowing that i'm the one who makes you feel this good."

vi nods, allowing you to adjust your positions so that your cunts are touching. you start fucking her down into the mattress and she sits up slightly so that your nipples brush against each other, the cold metal of her piercings encouraging the roll of your hips, her nails digging into the curve of your ass to bring you impossibly closer. 

“i missed you too. so fucking much,” you finally admit.  you flick one of the silver rings before leaning down and wrapping your lips around her nipple. 

“i missed these, too,” you add as you release her nipple with a pop, and vi moans. you’re grinning from ear to ear because, holy shit, vi is here and you’re together and you’re both happy, if only at the ecstasy of your silken cunts gliding against each other, at the taste of the other slicking your tongues, as thick as nectar and twice as sweet.

she laughs — love and magic and everlasting bliss — and you have to capture her lips now if you want to swallow the sound. you feel it bounce through your ribcage, awaken something deep within you that you feared was lost to time.

vi thrusts her hips upwards, presses harder against the seam of your cunt until you’re gushing against each other, not quite sure who’s making what mess. 

strings of cum connect you as you remove your body from hers. for a few seconds, you both lay on your backs, staring up at the ceiling and trying to catch your breath. vi drapes an arm over her eyes, chest heaving. 

you throw on some clothes and leave the room, hoping that vi’s still there when you get back.

….

vi worries that if she opens her eyes, she’ll wake up from this dream. 

she’ll be in some uncomfortable bed in london or tokyo or los angeles. the dull ache between her legs would be thanks to some girl who’d be eager to text all her friends and spill all the details about what vi likes in bed, or caitlyn who would tell vi to shave next time, darling, or i won’t let you fuck me again anytime soon.

instead, vi hears the creak of a door opening, feet tiptoeing along the floorboards. the mattress shifts with the weight of someone between her legs, though their body is not touching hers. 

“vi, baby,” a gentle coaxing, a familiar voice, pulling towards something she forgot she needed. her heart soars when she finds you kneeling on the bed, holding a damp towel in one hand and a glass of water in another. 

“yeah?” her voice is hoarse, but her throat doesn’t sting in the same way it does after a concert. it feels tender, well-used, well-loved.

you hold out the cup of water, watch vi eagerly gulp down half of it before she realizes what she’s done.

“shit, i — did you want some?”

you smile and shake your head. “i had some downstairs after my shower.” it’s then that vi registers the water dripping from the ends of your hair, soaking the fabric of her (fine, your) sweatshirt. “i’m gonna clean you up. is that okay?”

vi nods.

okay? okay? vi thinks she might have whiplash. 

it’s been a while since someone has fucked her so well she’d be satisfied for years and then touched her so tenderly afterwards. you run the damp cloth over vi’s sticky, sweaty skin, occasionally leaning down to press soft lips where you’d left teeth marks and bruises before. 

“there.” you throw the cloth on the floor. “so, um. do you wanna stay….?” 

you bite your lip as you wait for vi to answer. you start picking at your nail polish, too. vi sits up and grabs your hand. 

“i do,” she soothes. “do you want me to?”

your smile brightens the entire room and you kiss vi before muttering:

“i do.”

vi slips on her boxers as you settle into the bed next to her, leaving her top half bare. she notices the sketchbook on your bedside table, and she lifts it up at you, a silent question if she can flip through. you take it from her as you shift to sit between her legs, her chest warm against your back. the room’s only illuminated by the string of multicolored christmas lights you’d left on, but vi can see the talent, the passion behind your work as you walk her through your sketchbook. you tell her about the techniques you’ve been working on and new mediums you want to explore, about how you want to make the kind of art that makes people appreciate the beauty in the everyday. 

“i always loved your art,” she muses. vi cranes her neck slightly, places a kiss on your shoulder then one on your cheek. “the world would be more beautiful if you shared it.”

you hum and place the sketchbook on your bedside table. you each shift to your sides, facing each other; vi notches a leg around your hips, and you throw an arm around her waist, fingers trailing down her tattooed back. 

“ekko talked to you, huh?”

“i would have said that even if he hadn’t,” vi promises. “so….have you heard anything yet?”

“well….yeah,” you sigh, smiling shyly. “i got in, actually.” 

“really? that’s amazing, baby.” she beams at you, excitedly cupping your face in her hands, leaving small kisses across your cheeks until you’re giggling. 

“okay, okay,” you laugh. “i don’t know if i’m gonna go yet.”

vi hums knowingly. she presses her forehead against yours. 

“i know you’re scared, baby,” she says softly. “but sometimes it’s just a leap of faith.” 

“i know.” you pause, gnawing at your bottom lip while your eyes fixate on the scar on her upper lip. “can i ask you something?

“anything.”

“when you proposed to me….” her body tenses up, but you brush your hand over her bicep and the tension in her muscles dissipates. “was that a leap of faith? like, were you scared?”

“well, not at first.” she takes a shuddery breath, her voice suddenly small. “i always thought that we’d be together….i just didn’t think through how we’d make it work, i guess. i didn’t mean to mess things up, though.”

“hey.” vi leans into the hand you cup around her cheek. “we both messed up. we never actually talked, you know? but….i’m glad we are, now.” you swallow. “i still love you, vi.”

vi exhales. “you know, girls tell me that they love me pretty much every day.” 

you can’t help it — you roll your eyes, and vi laughs. because, truthfully, her heart has felt more full at your admission of love just now than it ever has for an area of screaming fans.

“there’s a point to this, i promise,” she says, nudging her nose against yours. “i used to get such a thrill from it….but then i think about what you said earlier. my heart — it’s just not in it anymore. all the band is now is drama and gossip and compromises of fame over art, and…. i don’t know. it’s not really what i want anymore. i want to be with you. for real, this time.”

you blink at her; she can feel your chest pulsing against hers like a hummingbird.

“would you, um, if i were to take that leap of faith and do that artist residency, would you —”

“anywhere you wanna go,” vi promises. she thinks about it a bit more….how nice it’s been to be home for the holidays, how nice it would be to come home year round.  “preferably close enough so we can have dinner at home on the weekends.” 

“sounds like a plan,” you smile.

the two of you twist closer underneath the flannel sheets, sink into the mattress, and gaze up at the faded glow-in-the-dark stars stuck to your ceiling until you fall asleep in each other’s arms.

you jolt awake a few hours later, several firm knocks on the door and ekko shouting:

“it’s christmas! get the fuck up before ziggy eats all the bacon!”

beside you, vi protects you from the frosty winter morning. her body radiates warmth, and her eyes flutter open, ever so slightly, as you gently shake her shoulder. 

she groans, turning on her back, rubbing sleep from her eye. 

“i better go.” 

“....yeah.”

you flush when you glance over as vi’s slipping on her sweatshirt, rose-petal bruises delicate across her skin. she opens the window, hair still mussed up, and a gust of frigid air rushes into the room. 

the image is so familiar: vi, one leg in your room and another out the window. you feel like a teenager again, scrambling to get dressed and avoid anyone hearing that you’d snuck your girlfriend into your room late at night. but there’s something else now, too — you imagine this becoming routine: waking up next to each other every day, swapping clothes, kissing over coffee and pancakes at breakfast. a place where the two of you might create some new memories, build a shared life together. and much more, so much more that feels like it could be your reality, sooner rather than later. 

you’re so deep in thought that you don’t notice vi rushing back towards you. she kisses you and kisses you, until your lungs are burning.

"merry christmas, baby,” she mumbles against your lips.

you grin back at her. “merry christmas, vi.”

....

hi baby, i know you’re at studio right now, but i forgot to ask you this morning: how do you feel about sending out holiday cards this year? i know they’re kind of cheesy, but it seems like the type of thing married couples might do…..

anyways, we’ll talk about it when you get home. i’m test-driving this new recipe for brussel sprouts to bring to dinner at my dad’s. 

i’ll see you later. love you!

 Everyone’s reaction when Victor literally became Jesus (Even mine brother said he’s Jesus)

ARCANE CHRISTMAS HCS

- When Powder was younger she would be the first one awake and then go wake everyone up to open presents at like 6 AM

- “Vi wake up! Wake up! It’s Christmas! We have to go open presents now”

- Vander would make all of the kids wait while he makes his daily coffee. All of the kids would be sitting in a circle around the tree filled with handmade ornaments from over the years.

- After everything happened Jinx forces Silco and Sevika to celebrate but over the years the slowly stop celebrating as a family.

-Jinx would celebrate by herself every year with a small tree she would make out of scrap metal until she meets Isha then she would go all out for the holidays again.

- for Isha’s first Christmas with Jinx, she tripled the size of her little scrap metal tree and had made decorations with Isha.

- She gifts Isha tools and other more coloring things so she can help Jinx at her workbench

- Isha gifts Jinx a little paper doll or drawing and jinx absolutely loves it. She would hang it up in a special place and never put it down.

- once the family gets back together Vi, is awkward and doesn’t really know how to act since she hasn’t celebrated since she was young but she would bring food as presents.

- Vi would be the sibling that blasts Christmas music the entire day.

- If Jinx and Cait can ever be in the same room without killing each other, I could see them being the two that argue over decorations and food.

- Cait always grew up with Christmas being a fancy holiday, all white decor that she wasn’t allowed to touch and itchy dresses.

- Her life completely changed when she saw how fun it was to celebrate when she was with Vi, Jinx, and Isha.

- Isha would learn to LOVE Santa and his elves. She would make the most detailed list for him, mostly non materialistic items like for her and jinx to be family and all that jazz.

- the elf on the shelf would terrify Isha to the point that jinx blew it up to show that she would protect Isha.

- Jinx would reassure Isha that it was okay by telling her that it was a bad elf and good elves should never be scary so blowing him up won’t affect if she gets presents or not.

ITS CHRISTMAS EVE AND I HAVE SO MANY MORE OF THESE SAVED UP FOR TOMORROW!

Thinking about barrel racer Vi and English speed jumper Caitlyn.

- Just imagine Vi as a pro rodeo racer who was on a sad losing streak, with a bunch of shit times going to an English show

- While watching the speed jumping class she notices Caitlyn just flying through the jumps perfectly on this huge thoroughbred mare, probably a OTTB. Vi is obsessed and cannot take her eyes off of Caitlyn until she leaves the show ring.

- After the show Vi goes to track down Caitlyn to talk to her about her riding. They get to talking and become best friends before they fall in love.

OR

- Speed jumper Caitlyn goes to her first Rodeo curious about western disciplines, she would look completely out of place among all of the cowgirls and boys.

- While watching the barrel races she sees Vi and is just starstruck at seeing this muscular woman in an black show jacket with pink embroidery with a matching hat just dominating everyone so far.

- while in the ring Vi catches Caitlyn’s eye and winks. This causes Caitlyn to absolutely melt and go to find Vi as soon as she leaves the ring.

- “What’s a sweet thing like you doing here” -Vi.

- They become besties and Vi teaches Caitlyn how to barrel race as they fall in love on a ranch.

ALSO

-Jinx would totally love those over the top trail courses and be absolutely amazing at them. She would be coming home grand champ everytime

- She would also put Isha into mutton racing just because she thinks it would be cute to watch.

Just finished episode 8, SESIBIAN LEX, MY LITTLE LESBIAN HEART IS SO HAPPY FOR A COUPLE THAT ISNT DOOMED. Horrified for episode 9 tho I am NOT prepared

If anything happens to jinx it’s going to tear my heart out and stomp on it before running it over with a pickup truck

Watching season two of Arcane is fearing for your mental health every 20 seconds. I just finished episode 4…

IM GOING INSANE, I NEED MY QUEEN VI TO COMEBACK

An oldie

Vi