dothestarsshine

[dothestarsshine]

i miss my wife

[dothestarsshine]

HOW DO YOU BITCHES DRAWWWW WHY CANT I DO ITTT LMFAO

[dothestarsshine]

if you see me getting my shit rocked by shimmer!Jinx MIND YOUR BUSINESS !!!!!! i’m exactly where i want to be

[dothestarsshine]

I posted on ao3! 

this is my first work in a while, so if you want some Vi & Jinx angst/fluff, please give it some love <3

this work does contain mentions of miscarriage and alcohol/drug abuse, so please do not read if those subjects are triggering for you 

[dothestarsshine]

CAITVI x TAYLOR SWIFT YOU MIGHT AS WELL HAVE STABBED ME

I know heaven's a thing, I go there when you touch me

Honey, hell is when I fight with you

False God by Taylor Swift

Welcome to another unhinged episode of pure unadulterated CaitVi guilty pleasure featuring Cait being quite predictable x Taylor Swift

Religion's in your lips

The altar is my hips

[dothestarsshine]

i just fell to my knees good god

[dothestarsshine]

"what if he's written mine on my upper thigh only in my mind," but it's vi longing for caitlyn's touch during 02 act 2

married!caitvi are totally the type of people to get "mine" in each other's handwriting tattooed on their inner thighs

fight me.

[dothestarsshine]

don't take this the wrong way

pit fighter!vi x reader

summary: you knew your regulars. some better than others. so, when a hot mess with a bad dye job doesn't show up like she normally does, you start to get a little concerned.

time period: between 02 act 1 and 02, act 2, post jinx betting on vi.

a/n: guys bear with me this was my first time writing in a WHILE. it's probably ooc but take it anyways

word count: 2.0k

warnings: mention of drugs, drinking, reader is a bartender, rebound behavior, implied self-destruction (vi)

To say you hated your job was an understatement. You were a bartender, which was actually a pretty nice gig down in the under city. But, you were a bartender across the street from one of the biggest fighting rings in the entertainment district, which meant that every night there was a fight (which was more often than not) at approximately 2:15 AM, a horde of people would walk in, demanding drinks to either waste away like the money they just lost, or celebrate their winnings. Either way, all you knew was that it meant so. much. work. Not to mention, your shift started at 1:30, so it wasn't even like you got to soak up the calm atmosphere the bar offered before then.

You sighed to yourself as you glanced at the clock. 2:00 AM. You could hear the roars of the crow from across the street, so you knew the fight was ending soon. A few minutes later, commotion from in the street proved you right. A few regulars walked into the bar first, most wearing a sour look. You pulled out their drink from under the counter before they even had to ask.

You had gotten into the habit of pre-making drinks a while back, once you realized the post-fight pattern. So, now at about 1:45, you started making 20 or so drinks for some regulars you knew would be coming in.

The night turned into a blur as you balanced making drinks and chatting with various patrons. You didn't even notice the lack of a certain regular until it was almost 3.

A quick glance at the drink you made for her reminded you. Your head started to swivel as you looked around for her. She usually sat at the bar, but maybe she wanted to try something different. You found no trace of her, but before you could keep looking, someone ordered another drink.

It was almost 4 now, and you still had seen no sight of her. You almost wanted to say you missed her.

Dye job, as you and your co-workers called her, was a whirlwind if nothing else. She came in, had one too many drinks, and then left stumbling and slurring her words. Not to mention a few of her co-workers had had to break up fights between her and another customer. Most of your co-workers hated her, always mentioning how disruptive or demanding she was, yet you had grown rather fond of her.

She was never disruptive whenever you were working, though. Sure, at times maybe a little distracting, sitting there with her busted lip and blue eyes that didn't seem to match the rest of her persona, but never disruptive. When you weren't talking to other customers, she would strike up conversation with you, asking about your life, your job, your interests.

So, the lack of Dye job tonight almost made you a bit sad. You collected the last few serpents someone had left on the counter for you, throwing them into the register behind the counter, before throwing your rag down onto one of the many spills that littered the bar.

"Hey there." She said, her voice gruff and... horse? "You uh.. got my usual?" You spun around to face her, taking in her appearance. You've seen her on a lot of bad days, but somehow, this one seemed worse. Her right eye was swollen and bruised, along with her hands and knuckles. She had cuts above her eyes and along her lip, and you could see bruises forming... basically everywhere.

"Yeah," you say softly, reaching into the cooler (where you'd placed her drink a few hours ago), and grabbing the small glass. You placed it in front of her, yet it was immediately off the counter and into her hand the minute yours left it. "You sure that's the best use of alcohol right now? Looks like your face needs some more than your liver." You say smugly, before returning to mopping up the surface of the bar.

"Here I thought bartenders didn't judge." She said sharply, her voice cutting through the silence of the now quiet bar. No one was drinking at 4:37 AM. Well, no one except her.

"Whoever told you that was lying. We judge the most." You say lightly, chuckling a bit as you continue cleaning. You were supposed to close at 6, but with the lack of clientele, who was to say you couldn't start to close a bit earlier. She got a bit quiet after that, and you were worried you had said something wrong. She just finished her drink.

"You wanna make me another?" She asks, though you knew you couldn't really tell her no. You make quick work of pouring her another, giving her slightly less alcohol this time, not that she was lucid enough to notice. She grabs the cup with insane speed for someone who was so beat up.

Every time you looked at her, you could almost feel how much pain she was in. Not just physically. Physically, of course, but also emotionally.

You tossed your dirty rag to the side, before pulling out a clean, new one, and pouring a bit of vodka into a glass.

Dye job lets out a quick chuckle at that, before making a snide comment. "Drinking on the job? Am I that much of a-- GOD!" She hisses as you push the rag up towards the cut above her eye, jumping back away from you. "Janna, you don't just do those things without asking."

"If I asked were you gonna say yes?"

"No."

"So I didn't. Ever heard the phrase better to ask forgiveness than permission?"

"You can't just go around messing with people like that!" She exclaims, almost animatedly. You prepared a reply, but then she added, quieter now: "I'm already miserable enough. Can't you just let me be?"

"It doesn't matter how miserable you are; those wounds are still going to get infected."

"Yeah, well maybe I deserve it."

Listen, you sure as hell weren't a therapist, but you knew that type of thinking couldn't be good.

You sighed a bit, before responding, "I'm not sure I believe that."

“Listen, I don’t come here for fucking therapy,” she starts, her words laced with a venom that you haven’t heard from her before, “I come here for a fucking drink, so back off.” She finishes, sliding back into her bar stool.

Your heart starts to sink with guilt. For some reason, you didn’t know, you felt bad for having obviously crossed a boundary. You started to worry: was she going to leave now? Never come back? Only come back when you weren’t working? 

“You owe me a drink for that shit.” She sighs, and you feel your heart begin to lighten at her joking tone. 

“Sorry, sorry.” You start, a more profuse apology almost slipping from your lips before she speaks again. 

“Nah,” she says, shrugging you off. “You’re probably right. It’s just been a uh… well hard few months now.” She sighs, downing the last of her drink. Another one slides itself into her hands, and she throws you a dangerous smirk. You feel your heart lighten, the same way it did a few moments ago. 

“Hey, I uhh. I get it. I’ve been there too,” you say softly, your head filling with unpleasant thoughts of a time you’ve long since wanted to forget about. You don’t even notice when Dye job’s eyes land on your face, studying you. 

The two of you sit there in silence for a second. You, lost in thoughts of something else, and her studying you. She watches you, taking in every part of your face, your lips, your cheeks, and Janna your eyes. 

“I guess that’s how you end up working at a bar at 5 in the morning on a Tuesday,” you smile at her, hoping that your horrible attempt at a joke wasn’t too painfully obvious. (It was, don’t worry.) 

She meets your eyes at that. The silence falls upon you both once again, this time a comfort, rather than a division. 

“So, Dye job, you got a name?” You start, after a moment, your hands placing another glass upside down on the rack above you.

“Dye job?” She repeats, almost offended. “Oh come on, it ain’t that bad.” She says, suddenly running her hands through her hair. 

“I mean, sure. Maybe when you first started coming in, but now…” you trail off, about to lace your hands through her hair to show her what you mean when you remember. Your hand stops midair, before you realize that you need to do something with your hand, so you awkwardly go to place it behind your head. 

You however, were not slick, and she most definitely noticed. She chuckles at your attempt at hiding it, but she decides to leave it be. 

“Violet.” She says suddenly, and you almost can’t remember what your original question was. Then it sinks in. You can’t help the laugh that escapes your mouth.

“Oh come on!” She chastises. “I didn’t pick it.” That doesn’t help. Once you finally regain your composure, you turn towards her again. 

“No, I just– I mean Violet does not suit you. Like at all.” You say, staring at the angst filled woman sitting in front of you, comparing her to her namesake, purples and blacks clashing in your mind. ‘

“What about you, bartender, you got a name?” She diverts the conversation, and you respond with your name. She repeats it a few times, you hearing your name a way you haven’t ever before. She laces it with curiosity, with desire. “Unfortunately, that suits you.” She prods. 

You turn away from her for a second, needing to place the glass that you were drying under the bar on the other side, leaving her and her thoughts alone to contemplate. 

“What time do you guys, uh, close?” She starts, her voice carrying a wave of hesitancy that you hadn’t heard from her yet tonight. 

“Technically, 6 AM. But no one ever comes in between 5 and 6, so usually I’m good to go at like 5:15-ish. Why, you want another drink?”

“No, I was uh, gonna ask if you were chill with me hanging here until you guys close.”

“Oh, uh yeah. Sure. That isn’t gonna be much longer. You sure you’re gonna be able to get out of that chair?” You tease, and she rolls her eyes.

“Yeah yeah, make fun of me all you want.” She says, her tone carrying a lightness it didn’t beforehand. You formulate a response, but she cuts you off. “Uh, don’t take this the wrong way, but would you wanna do this again?” 

“I’m here every Monday, Thursday and Friday night,” you shrug, honestly a bit surprised she didn’t already know.

“No I meant, uh, not here.” 

Oh. Oh.

“Oh. Uh–”

“Listen you don’t have too–”

“Sure.”

“I promise– what?” 

The two of you bounced off each other like tennis balls. 

“I said sure.”

“You promise you aren’t just saying that? Listen I get if this is just a work thing–”

“Violet,” you caught her attention, her eyes reflecting a look that not many have seen, “I promise.”

She gave you the slightest smirk at that, before she made a motion to get up from her perch at the bar. 

“I guess I'll see you on Thursday.” She says, tipping a hat she wasn’t wearing at you. 

“Don’t let those wounds get infected!” You call out after her. 

“No promises!” You hear her faint voice, accompanied by the sound of receding footsteps. 

Suddenly, you were alone. Suddenly, you felt yourself waiting for the next time you had work, the job you hated seeming more bearable. You place the last glass upside down to dry, before gathering your stuff and locking the door, not dreading the next time you had to walk through these doors. 

[dothestarsshine]

THIS IS WHAT IVE BEEN SAYING

timebomb

am i the only one who doesn't like timebomb? i mean theres nothing wrong with liking the ship i obviously wouldn't judge others for having a different opinion than me, but lots of things about the ship just doesn’t sit right with me personally.

like for example ekko was in the au for only two days (he showed up two days before his au self was supposed to show off his project and left the night before which means he was only there for two days) yet in those two days he managed to fall in love with someone who tried to kill him and has killed many of his friends multiple times? i get that he had an obvious cute little crush on her when they were kids (if you pay attention it was pretty obvious and also kinda cute) but that wasn't long lived because she literally switched sides after that and for the next 8 years they weren't in contact (not much contact other than her trying to kill him or/and his friends anyways) like idk about anyone else but i personally wouldn’t fall in love with the person who killed many of my loved ones let alone falling in love with that person within two days that’s just impossible. i understand that he probably still had some lingering feelings for his universe's jinx and that’s why it was so easy for him to fall in love with au powder in just two days but in my opinion it's still too rushed and unrealistic. i couldn’t even begin to imagine myself falling in love with someone who simply talked bad about me behind my back let alone someone who’s killed my loved ones and has tried to kill me too.

i like the IDEA of them like two former childhood friends turned into enemies who are lovers in a different universe and only one of them obtains the knowledge of the fact that they’re lovers in a different life, and so the only one who knows is left yearning for that kind of connection in their current universe as well??? Like that’s such a good trope. normally i’d eat it up, but the way it was portrayed messed it up for me personally, so now i’m left only liking the idea of the ship but not actually fully liking the ship itself, and i don’t think i ever will tbh.

now this is just my personal opinion i didn’t make this post as an opening for people to argue with me or try to change my mind in the comments nor did i make this post to bash anyone who likes the ship since its an overall nice trope and they’re conanly together so i dont see why i’d bash anyone who likes this ship i simply made this post to see if anyone else agrees and to just share my opinion and simply yap on MY blog cause i can do that since its MYYYY blog (say this for the sensitive people who will try to attack me)

[dothestarsshine]

the spanish speaking/latin Jayce headcannon kills me so much because I just know that that boy was raised loving to dance

like he learned from his mother how to dance salsa y bachata and I just know he EATS IT UP

I can imagine him at a random Piltover ball dancing with Ximena or someone (hell, maybe he even taught Caitlyn the basics) and loving every second of it. it's one of his elements

the reason it kills me is because then Viktor is standing on the sidelines, watching Jayce have the time of his life, knowing that he'll never be able to dance with Jayce like that. that Jayce will never have a partner who can bond with him that way.

Jayce, however, doesn't understand why Viktor doesn't think he can dance.

so, one of the nights that they're both staying late in the lab working, Jayce puts on one of his mother's favorite songs and asks Viktor to dance with him. Viktor obviously refuses, thinking that Jayce is making a (rather insensitive) joke. Jayce doesn't accept this however, and he grabs Viktor by his waist, holding him tight against him as they move slowly to beat of the song, not the melody.

once the song stops, Viktor asks him why he did that. he said he wanted to dance.

"I wanted to dance with the person I love. Why else?"

[dothestarsshine]

request guidlines

if you want to make a character request:

I write in three main ways (headcannons (bullet point list) , scenarios (narrative, but not long) and then full works) so please specify which one your request is for

I do not write nsfw content -- if you don't know if a piece is nsfw, then it probably is.

if I respond to your request saying I don't write for a character/fandom, don't try to fight me about it -- it's probably for a reason

[dothestarsshine]

intro!

hi there! i'm andy!

I use she/her pronouns and im a 20 y/o third year uni student studying film!

I love to write and to hyperfixate on shows!!

who i write for: most arcane, jjk, mha, owl house & haikyuu characters (if you don't know if i write for a character or not, just let ask!)

my request are open rn! visit request guidelines if you want to make a request!

I also have an ao3! my user is goldendewdrops

masterlist is otw i promise!

[dothestarsshine]

caitlyn kiramman most definitely was a boarding school kid

you can't convince me otherwise.

no because it makes so much sense too -- rocky relationship with mom, the sneaking around skills.

she was also definitely top of her class in all of the snarky ways possible. she was the one who would do corrections on a test she got a 99 on for the .25 points back.

the way she thinks she can fix everything is so boarding school coded too.

idk just rambles