#1. i have no clue what you are talking about

[bitchface24-7]

COYOTE UGLY - VIKTOR X READER

synopsis: When you’re not at the lab researching and developing Hextech, you’re in Zaun at the BDSM club Coyote Ugly as the bartender. Having this job ensures your team has enough money to continue working without any headaches. Well you’re in for a massive migraine since the man you’ve been in love with since you were kids is gonna find out about your dirty little secret.

warnings: secrets, bdsm etiquette, dom!viktor, love confessions, abelist comments (Viktor refers to himself in a negative light twice, referencing what others have called him) traffic light system, spanking, afab terms used for the smut section, dirty talk, vaginal sex, unsafe sex (wrap it before you tap it), creampie, squirting, I’m gonna write this as a 5 + 1 kinda deal. Ok? Ok. Grammarly is my beta

genre: m/f

p.s. This fic very obviously references Coyote Ugly (2000), and I know it is a bar in the movie but I didn't want to do a whole plotline on The Last Drop vs Coyote Ugly; and I didn't have the energy to write and characterize Silco LMAO. So I hope none of y'all are mad I tweaked it to be a BDSM club/bar instead. I've loved this movie ever since I was a kid. Now I'm tempted to do a Practical Magic (1998) fic too 😭😭

The Five Times Viktor Gets a Clue About You, and the One Time His Suspicions are Confirmed

One.

Viktor’s known you for almost two decades by this point. You’re well into your twenties and can do whatever you please. But Viktor’s got suspicions regarding you. Your excuses, your secrets. He knows you better than he knows himself.

So when you walk into the lab one day with a stack of cash, both Jayce and Viktor can’t help but look at you as if you were a project they were working on. You’ve peaked their curiosity and suspicion.

“So,” Viktor starts as you give the money to Jayce, and walk back to your desk, “Where did that money come from?”

You lightly scoff, “Don’t worry about it, V.”

“Of course I’m going to worry about it! That’s a lot of money miláček! Please tell me you got it legally.”

You whip around with a snort, “Don’t worry Viktor, it’s all legal. I just got paid from my second job. I already took a cut for myself; the rest I’m donating to the lab for our research.”

Viktor’s lips thin at that. You already took a cut for yourself and still had that much money to just… give away?

“Whatever you say, miláček.”

You’re gonna regret that. You’ve just peaked Viktor’s curiosity; and what’s the saying?

Curiosity killed the cat… but satisfaction brought it back.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Two.

Viktor’s curiosity is peaked once more when he sees a glimmer of sparkle at your navel as your shirt rises, as you try to get something off the shelf for him.

Viktor hums as he puts his pen on the hem of your shirt to lift it a bit more. You gasp as a fresh breeze brushes against your abdomen.

“Whats this, hmm?”

You sputter a bit before dropping your arms and tugging your shirt down quickly, “Nothing.”

“Nothing? Your belly button is magical and shimmers on its own?”

You sarcastically hum, “How’d you know?” you add a dramatic gasp, just because you can. Viktor quirks an eyebrow at you, “You can just admit you got a piercing. Its quite common down in Zaun.”

“Whats the fun in that.” You pout, “I got it forever ago, a bit before we left for the Academy actually.”

“You got your navel pierced when you were seventeen, and I never found out about it until you were twenty-six and I was twenty-eight?”

You playfully shrug, “Guess you aren't as observant as you think you are.”

Viktor clenches his jaw, “Don’t tease me miláček. You won't like where you end up.”

“Try me.”

With that, you walk away with a sway to your hips as Viktor's grip on his pen tightens to the point he thinks it's going to snap in half.

You're going to regret that.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Three.

“What is that?!” Jayce exclaims as you lounge on the couch, taking a small nap. “What? What! What're you screeching about Jayce?”

“That!” he squeaks, “On your lower back! Is that a…”

Viktor finishes the thought, “A tattoo?”

You twist your torso and look down. There's the perpetrator, a small tramp stamp that kind of looks like the Hexcores magic, and in the centre is a heart.

“Yeah.” you casually state as you go back to nap.

“Why does it look like the Hexcore?”

You take a quick peek over to Viktor before muttering, “Why not? I care about you guys and decided to get a tattoo to commemorate it.”

Jayce awes a bit but Viktor just narrows his eyes at you. There's more to it than just that. Because if not, then why did you put it in such a… risque place? Unless you wear low-rise pants or extremely cropped shirts; no one would ever see it.

Unless you're completely naked.

Viktor rubs his nose as you reposition yourself, your hip jutting out as your top rises even farther.

Viktor casually stands up and walks over to where you're resting on the labs couch. Lightly touching your lower back, he feels you flinch as he presses his hand harder onto the fully healed tattoo, “You must be cold, here. Let me fix that.”

And with that, Viktor pulls up the fleece blanket to cover your torso.

You look to Viktor and your eyes have darkened, your lids slightly narrowed. Your lips are lightly pursed as you examine Viktor. Viktor just smirks at you.

The longer this goes on, the more clues Viktor gets.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Four.

Jayce keeps pacing in the lab. Back and forth, back and forth. Viktor is worried Jayce is going to wear the floor down to the baseboards.

“Are you okay?” Viktor quietly asks, looking at Jayce in concern. He's never seen him so… frazzled before.

“No. There's a small gathering happening later today with the council members and high-level individuals. There was supposed to be a bartender to make the meeting not as mind numbing but the one Mel booked previously is sick. Now we need to find a replacement for…”

Jayce looks at his watch and runs a hand through his hair, “Three hours from now.”

Before Viktor can put his two cents in, you pipe in, “I can do it.”

Jayce whips around to look at you, a manic gleam in his eyes, “You’re not joking, right? You can actually bartend.”

You nod once, “I can actually bartend.”

“Shes not lying Jayce. She was a part-time bartender at the Last Drop when… when Vander was the owner.

Both you and Viktor look down, Vander was a good man. He took care of everyone as if they were his own kids.

Jayce clears his throat, trying to dissipate the mournful aura in the lab, “Wow, you're like a wolf in sheep's clothing. Many hidden talents.”

You snort, “More like a coyote prowling in the forest. Challenge brings mastery, dear Jayce.”

Viktor quirks an eyebrow at you. That's an… odd choice of words. No one ever refers to themselves as a coyote unless they frequent…

Oh.

Oh.

Everything is slowly piecing together, he just needs one more piece of proof before he pounces. Viktor almost feels like he's insane; he's a frequent member of the well-established BDSM club down in Zaun; Coyote Ugly. He's sure he would’ve seen you before. But there's the off chance you work when he's not there. He only goes on Saturdays, on a bi-weekly schedule.

Maybe you knew that and planned your schedule around Viktor's desires.

For this last bit of proof, Viktor’s gonna bring his attitude from Coyote Ugly to the lab. Hopefully, he doesn't traumatize Jayce (or you if he's wrong.)

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Five.

Viktor is good at what he does. Many people look at him and assume he's a virgin due to his disabilities. They think he's submissive due to the fact he's more lean and lithe as a man.

He's not.

He can get anyone down to their knees. He can get anyone to listen to him. He doesn't typically use this power in his day-to-day life, but he's going to bring it to the lab today. Luckily for him, Jayce had a mandated meeting to go to and couldn't weasel his way out of it.

He sees his target in the corner of his eye.

You.

You're standing by the blackboard, wobbling in place. Viktor isn't sure how well you've slept, if you've eaten anything today, or if you've even taken a break.

Viktor gets up from his own spot, and makes his way to the small kitchenette in the lab and prepares a basic sandwich and sweet milk for you. He places the items onto your desk and you're none the wiser.

Its not until Viktor clears his throat do you look away from the blackboard.

“You can barely stand straight. Here, come take a small break. Eat something.”

You smile lightly at the care, “Oh Viktor, I’d love to but I can't. I'm on the verge of a breakthrough; I can feel it! If I stop now, I wont ever complete this runic sequence!”

“I insist.”

“No, I really can't—”

“Sit.”

With that, you sat down at your desk immediately. You've never heard Viktor's voice go like that. So dark, so commanding, so… sensual.

You feel almost ashamed. Here Viktor is, making you food, a drink, and worrying about your health. And you were too much of a brat to see it.

You take half the sandwich and bite into it as your stomach growls at you. Shit, he's right. You haven't eaten in several hours and now your body’s catching up to you.

Viktor tilts his head, observing you.

“You were right, thank you.”

Viktor puts his hand on the nape of your neck and squeezes. You shiver and lean into the touch.

“You’re welcome. Don't make me have to do that again.”

You look up at him, your eyes wide and glossy. Your lips pouted lightly. Viktor's grip tightens on your nape and you somewhat successfully suppress a whine.

That's the final puzzle piece.

“I wont.”

“Good girl.”

And with that, Viktor can see you blue screen.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Plus One.

Viktor's changing up his routine, visiting Coyote Ugly on a Friday rather than his usual Saturday. The trek down to Zaun wasn't too bad, but the difference is air quality was highly noticeable.

Slowly but surely, Viktor makes his way to the club. He's in his usual outfit for this scene, an all-black ensemble with the buttons of his shirt undone almost dangerously low. He can feel the looks of desire shot his way. He's always on the top of the submissive’s lists at Coyote Ugly. And every coyote he's taken has been incredibly satisfied.

But ever since this theory of his sprouted, he's been hyper-focusing on it. On you. So he hasn't been able to take any of the coyotes to bed. They're desperate.

But there's a certain coyote that's already caught his eye.

He sees you working the bar as if it were second nature. Mixing drinks, pouring shots, opening beers, and chatting up the patrons. You seem so at home here.

Viktor gets a lovely eyeful of your outfit when you hope up on the bar with a megaphone, “Same shit, new day! We follow the rules and—”

All the patrons echo your words back to you, “We don't touch your girls!”

You smirk, “And with that, let the party begin!” a bell is heard ringing in the background but all Viktor can do is appreciate your sexiness.

You're in an all-black outfit as well, but its all leather. Your top is closed by a single button, so Viktor damn near gets an eyeful of your breasts. He can see your abdomen down to the top of your navel, your belly button piercing glittering in the club's lights.

Your leather pants are skin tight and low enough that Viktor's worried you can't bend over in them without flashing someone. He sees you turn around to hop off the bar and there it is. Your hexcore inspired tattoo.

Viktor feels his pants tighten at that. Its almost like a branding in his mind. Look at that. She's mine.

A few girls get up onto the bar and dance to the songs playing on the jukebox. With a distraction in place, he makes his way to the bar to order a drink.

Your back is to the bar as you clean some glasses, “What can I getcha?”

Viktor ensures his voice is loud enough so that you can hear him, “A whiskey sour, miláček.”

The sounds of cups almost breaking puts a smile on Viktor’s face. He's got you just where he wants you. You whip around with a deer-in-the-headlights look, “Vi—Viktor! What're you doing here?! You usually come on—”

“Saturdays. Yes, I know. But I've heard wonderful things about a certain bartender and wanted to see her for myself. The only bartender I've ever met is Thomas.”

You inhale sharply, “What gave me away?”

“Little things. The money, your body modifications, referring to yourself as a coyote.”

You hit your forehead with the palm of your hand, “I'm an idiot.”

Viktor shakes his head, “No, you just got too comfortable. Besides how you reacted a few days ago when given an order sealed the deal.”

Your face feels hot, almost unbearably so. Goddamn it.

“Does this… ruin anything between us?”

Viktor scoffs, “Absolutely not! Do you know how long I've fantasized about a scenario like this happening?”

“I have an idea…” your tone is breathless as your eyes are as wide as saucers. No way is this happening. No way are your dreams coming true.

Before anything else can happen, you do a special knock on the bar. Thomas whips his head over to look at you and seems shocked.

“This is officially a Code V. I need you to man the bar tonight.”

Thomas just smiles and takes over no problem, you hop over the bar and stand next to Viktor, a beaming smile on your face.

“A Code V?”

“When I officially get the man of my dreams, I get to have a shift off. No ifs, ands, or buts!”

Viktor smiles sweetly at that.

“So…” you add before your confidence dissipates, “Wanna go upstairs?”

Viktor knows that private rooms are located upstairs if you want to… have some fun. He just nods, a sly smirk on his face, “Lead the way, miláček.”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You and Viktor rush up as best you can to one of the private rooms. Before anything happens, Viktor enquires if you know about the stoplight system. You do. And with that, you two touch each other in a way you’ve been dreaming about since you both started puberty.

A bit of kissing here, a bit of groping there. Before you know it, Viktor’s fingering open your pussy as you whine and pant at the pleasure Viktor is presenting your body with.

It’s wet, slick, and so hot. Viktor’s hand is slapping against your clit, causing a loud schlick sound that makes your ears burn in embarrassment. Viktor just revels in the sounds and faces you make; he never thought you could get any prettier. Looks like he was wrong.

“Please… Please… Put it in.” You beg, your eyes watery at the constant assault Viktor is giving your g-spot. Viktor kisses his teeth, “Put what in?” He cockily asks.

“Y-your cock. I want your cock in me. I want to fuck you into the bed. Please Viktor, please? I want it so bad… I need it…” You beg, your voice wobbly in your desire. Viktor growls low in his chest as removes his fingers from your pussy. “You're such a good girl, begging for me. C'mon sweetheart, I'm all yours.” With that, you ensure Viktor is comfortable as he sits up against the headboard, you saddle him and slowly sink onto his wonderful cock.

You gasp out a long drown out moan at the feeling. Viktor’s pushed right up against your g-spot, he’s stretching you out. Your pussy is moulding itself to Viktors cock, nothing else in this world will satisfy you now. One hand holds your waist as the other rubs your back.

“C’mon.” In a low, throaty voice, you moan. As if you had to use additional effort to get the words past your parted lips. Your voice is whiney and breathy. As if putting Viktors cock in you knocked all the air out of your lungs. When you lower yourself more, Viktor, who is rubbing your back with his free hand, feels something deep inside his gut tighten up a little more as you persistently try to fit the final few inches of his cock inside. You feel dizzy at that, you're so stuffed… and there’s a few inches more.

Needy. You're so fucking needy; and Viktor loves it.

He squeezes, quickly prickling your flesh beneath his fingertips into a supple hue. Viktor wishes he could mark you like that for good, wishes that squeezing hard enough would leave bruises and indents to last a lifetime. Last several lifetimes. Even if you aren't aware of it, you still attract admiring looks from other people, which irritates Viktor. Ever since you two were teens, people would look lecherously at you. And you never noticed. But at the mere thought of everyone seeing you so marked up, something wild, primal, and almost startlingly possessive gets hold of him. Even though Viktor would know who did it, they wouldn't.

They would question who defiled you so throughly; and not once in their tiny minds would they think Viktor “The Cripple” “The Weirdo” fucked you so good you're bow-legged for days. With a trail of hickeys down your neck and chest, red marks on your wrists and a glazed look in your eyes. Viktor needs to calm down, he’s getting ahead of himself.

Before he can stop himself, Viktor tangles his fingers into your sweaty, untidy hair. You shiver at the feeling. His hands are so strong, so beautiful to look at.

“Viktor! Please! Please let me move! I need it…”You beg. You've needed this since you were fifteen and you noticed how handsome Viktor was becoming.

You lean closer to Viktor, your tits close enough to his face he can easily suck a nipple into mouth. This small shift caused his cock to press even harder into your g-spot; making a long whine and a few tears to slip out of you. Seeing that causes Viktor to freeze a bit before asking, “Colour?” At that you desperately cry out a pathetic, “Green! Please!”

If Viktor had shown even a tiny bit less restraint, the pitiful little "please" that slips from your mouth might have killed him right there.

You start to bounce, a nipple still firmly in Viktor's mouth. One hand stays on your hip as the other tweaks your other nipple. You use the headboard as support to ride Viktor to your heart's content. Fuck his cock is huge, you swear you feel it in your lungs. You could've been doing this for ages. You pitifully whine at that thought; so much time wasted.

“You look so pretty like this, you know,” Viktor mumbles appraisingly as he lets your nipple go, rocking back and forth at an almost painfully slow pace, trying to give you even more pleasure. Your thighs are trembling, splattered with lube, sweat, and an unprecedented amount of wetness from your arousal. You make a tiny, barely there noise in response, pushing weakly back against him. Viktor holds you still. “So fucked out, just for me. So cock-drunk aren’t you? My little fucktoy. My good girl. My prettiest girl” Viktor showers praise on you, who just groans at the sweet attack.

You pull up as far as you can against Viktor’s strength, the head of his cock catching on the entrance to your pussy, before dropping back down aggressively and picking up a steady rhythm. Viktor lets out an appreciative moan at that. Fuck you feel so good. He's gonna become obsessed with your pussy after this. Viktor's head tilts back to rest against the headboard as he moans, you pepper hickeys all across his pale neck. He's not the only one with possessive tendencies.

You go faster and faster, rougher and harder with each bounce, but you still take into account Viktors weaker leg. You're both moaning, yours goes up a pitch when Viktor starts to rub your clit.

Viktor whispers into your ear as he ravages your pussy, “You like that? You slut. Do you like having my big cock stretch you out? Do you like me abusing your g-spot, moulding your pussy into the shape of my dick? Nothing else will ever satisfy you again, will it Pretty Girl? No. It won’t. You’ll be desperate to have my dick rearranging your guts again.”

You just moan and starts to cry at the whispered words alongside the pounding your pussy is getting. The knot in your stomach is getting tighter and tighter, you instinctively know you can’t cum without permission. So you ask,

“Viktor… Can I cum? Please? Can I cum?

Viktor just snarls at that, nipping your ear and slapping your ass with a heavy groan, “Oh fuck… you’re such a good girl aren’t you? Asking for permission to cum without me even having to telling you. Cum. Cum right fucking now.”

And you do. With a gush of liquid, you cum hard. Your body jerking, eyes rolling into the back of your head, with your mouth ajar in a silent moan that trickles down to a pleased whine. Viktor starts to fuck into you, wanting to cum too. You start to overstimulate yourself, desperate to feel Viktor cum.

Little “Uhs.” are punched out of you at each thrust due to the painful pleasure. In no time, Viktor cums too. His hips pressed flush against yours; his sharp hipbones causing a nice bruise to form. You both simultaneously moan at the feeling of Viktor pumping you full of his cum. The two lose their strength and flop down onto the bed.

You're cuddled up, now efficiently cockwarming Viktor. You're both our of breath, and immensely pleased.

“We should clean up.” Viktor pants, you giggle breathlessly, “I don't think I can move.”

The silence is comfortable, enjoyable. You’ve almost fallen asleep when Viktor casually states, “I love you. I've loved you since I was sixteen.”

You look up at him and give him a sweet smile, before pressing your lips together in a loving, passionate kiss, “and I've loved you since I was thirteen. Looks like I've got you beat.”

Viktor just chuckles as he runs a hand through your hair, “I'm exhausted. We’ll get cleaned up when we wake up.”

“I couldn't agree more. But I want a round two before that.”

“Seriously?!”

You slap Viktor's chest playfully, “We could've been doing this for a little over a decade. I'm making up for lost time!”

Viktor kisses your forehead and contently sighs, “Can’t argue with that miláček. Can't argue with that.”

With how vigorously you two went, it’s no surprise you fell asleep in a few minutes. Wrapped up together, as content as can be.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

That's a wrap! Please be nice to me, I haven't written smut since like 2022-2023. Hope y'all liked it!

For the tattoo, search up “cybersigilism heart tramp stamp tattoo” on pinterest to see what kind of tramp stamp you got LMAO

[auberge13]

Jon and Damian's Age Situation

I know this has been a hot topic in Super Sons fandom for a while now, and I thought it might be useful to collect what the canon has to say on the matter.

During Super Sons, Jon is 10 while Damian is 13. Here's Damian saying that Jon is 10 (Super Sons #6), Jon saying he himself is 10 (Super Sons #3), Jon saying that Damian is 13 (Super Sons #1), Damian turning 13 in Teen Titans #1 (which probably happens a little before Super Sons) and Clark saying Jon is 10 (Superman 2016 #8, which happens at the same time as Super Sons). We know these books happen at the same time because they all crossover during the Super Sons of Tomorrow arc and various other points.

Now, if you really want to get into the weeds, we also know that by the time Bendis rolls around, Jon has turned 11. Here's Lois remarking on that. (Superman 2018 #8) With this in mind, the actual years between Jon and Damian may be more or less than 3. We don't (as far as I know, please fill me in if I'm missing something) know how old Damian is in this moment, which means he might have still been 13 while Jon was 11, making their age gap 2 and a half or 2 and three quarters years or whatever when Jon leaves with Jor-El. He also could have turned 14 before Jon turned 11 and the gap is 3 years and some change. Comic book time is always a little funny.

I know this page from the Robin 80th anniversary special has caused some confusion as well, since it shows a 10 and 13 year old in the same class. My speculation is that the writer just wasn't thinking about it that hard while writing and this is just a genuine error, but I hate assuming the worst about writers, so, if you want to spin it, I'd just crack this up to private school shenanigans. Maybe they're in the same enrichment program where what year you're in doesn't matter. Maybe this is an elective that takes from any grade. Make up your own story! Forget this moment ever happened! Up to you!

As for post-space-field-trip, here's Jon being confirmed as 17 (Superman 2018 #8), and Damian saying he's 14 during Robin 2021 (issue #1) which happens at the same time as Superman: Son of Kal El (see: SOKE #1).

All this said, it's pretty clear that, before Jon goes to space with his grandpa, the comics want you to see Jon and Damian as 10 and 13. When Jon gets back they want you to see them as 14 and 17. Some time has passed since then and those ages may be one higher. If we're talking canon, that's where we are.

DISCLAIMER: If you want to change their ages in art or au that's totally fine. I'm not here to discourage anyone from having fun. I just like gathering clues and tacking them up on my little pinboard.

[thepunkmuppet]

approaching The Confession Scene and what the fuck. this is genuinely tragic like I’ve always seen it as a meme, a joke, an iconic moment in fandom history, whatever, I’m a tumblr user, but now that I’m actually here it’s just fucking SAD

season 15 as a whole is NOT bad. it’s really not. but there’s zero destiel. they rarely speak at all unless it’s plot-related, one (1) episode pairs them together, frankly season seven was ten times more focused on their friendship and that’s INSANE because cas is only in like five fucking episodes of that one. they have a mini arc midway through the season which is very gorgeous and well-done, but it then goes absolutely nowhere and nothing at all is done to make it textually romantic.

by which I mean: no episodes have dean or cas reacting personally to sam and eileen’s relationship, or any other romantic relationship they come across. we’re never shown anything even remotely romantic even in an unrequited sense (no post-realisation awkwardness, no lingering shots of cas pining from afar, etc etc). it reads like a normal season of the show, which, yeah, I think those two are pretty fucking gay regardless, but they’re always textually written as a friendship, with no explicit cues to clue the audience in that there are canon romantic feelings. and that doesn’t change here, at all.

so I guess what I’m saying is the confession scene is purely just a moment of fan service. as stunning as the speech itself is, and as well as it fits cas’s character, the writers throughout the season didn’t actually give a fuck to make destiel ROMANTIC even in a one-sided way. film is a language and as much as misha does in his acting, even from castiel’s perspective they’re still framed as a friendship within the show itself RIGHT up until he says the words I love you. they weren’t interested in actually depicting a (even one-sided) queer love story, just wanted to give fans their “okay here it is we did it guys!” moment at the end, so that way they didn’t have to actually show an explicitly romantic gay love story, they could just say some words, kill cas off and boom it’s canon! here you go people we’ve been leading on, mocking and low-key gaslighting for eleven years!

idk man it’s just so disappointing. I knew it was and I know everyone has been talking about it for years now but my GOD it’s so bad 😭 I can’t even tell you how bizzare it is to have seen destiel confession meme on here and in various fandom video essays EVERY DAY FOR FOUR PLUS YEARS and now here I am, watching it go down in real time with full context, having watched over 300 episodes of this show, invested, obsessed, and REALLY FUCKING UPSET AAAAHHH

EDIT: forgot to mention this originally. the actual concept of cas’s moment of perfect happiness killing him, while kind of stolen from buffy, is AMAZING. and the literal perfect opportunity to have a building textual confirmation of his feelings throughout the season, where he realises what that moment will be, and it ends in the tragic confession of his love. like that’s insane that’s perfect. but no it just comes out of nowhere so oh fucking well whatever I guess! they’re canon so we should all be happy! I hate this stupid bumhole show AUGH no one talk to me ever :(

[duskdog]

I've been approaching the riddles with the thought that Eddie is actually answering Steph's questions. I've considered each one in response to the question directly preceding it. 1. "The gift that keeps on taking. The theft that keeps on giving" is in response to "What did he say about me?"

I generally agree with something of a combination of what's been proposed before. The gift that keeps on taking is traditionally the White Elephant, a gift that causes more trouble than it's worth, and I think it's likely -- given what we know of Arthur and how he reacts to failure/being beaten (he goes on angry rants!) -- that he may have reacted the same to Steph getting in his way. Here's his child, something that's supposed to bring him joy, and all she does is fuck him over.

(He may even be, vaguely, remembering a time when she did bring him joy, maybe when she was a new baby, and it just makes him all the more bitter now. I don't know if we can fairly say that he actually cared about her even then, but I'd like to think there was a time when he and Crystal lived a semi-normal life? I'm sure it was never a healthy relationship, but they got married -- clearly once upon a time they had feelings for each other, and hopes and dreams and stuff. Maybe Arthur was happy to hold his new baby. And now look at what a pain in the ass she is.)

Regardless, something that's supposed to be seen as a blessing has been nothing but a curse -- and I could definitely see Arthur going on more than one angry rant about it to Eddie. (Last we saw him and Eddie together, after all, they were getting thrown out of the house, and it doesn't take a genius to realize that the only reason Black Canary would know they were there, or care, would be because of Steph.)

2. The bug riddle is in response to "why do you believe he had to leave clues to his crimes?".

First I have to preface this by saying that this is a weird question for Steph to ask, because as was pointed out, Arthur hasn't been leaving clues for a long time by this point. Still, it may be something that bothered Steph a lot when she was younger, and maybe still bothers her? I'm one of those folks who believes Arthur was suffering from OCD (which is never outright stated, but I believe is implied when he talks about how he was "cured" of his need to leave clues -- at the very least, this makes me think that it was psychological in some fashion, and some flavor of OCD best fits the bill, so he may have begun taking some sort of medication?), which does have a genetic component, but we've never seen any indication that Steph would be worried about anything like that, or that the thought has even ever crossed her mind, so I don't think that's a factor.

So why does it matter? I think it's just that Steph is just trying to understand her father. She's just recently found out that he's dead, and now she has all these unresolved questions, and unresolved feelings, and him leaving clues was a core part of his original costumed persona. He never changed his name from Cluemaster, either, even after he stopped leaving clues. I think the question is still important to Steph, because the clue thing had been a big part of who Arthur was, and "who Arthur was" is exactly what she's trying to resolve right now.

I think, with this riddle, Eddie may have cut straight to the heart of the matter that I just discussed -- this seemingly no-longer-relevant question that's still clearly very important to Steph even so. Digging up Arthur's metaphorical bones here makes her the bug... but which bug? Is she going to let these questions, these feelings, trap her in someone else's web -- is she going to get tangled up in the man Arthur was, in his mistakes, and let that devour her? Or is she going to cocoon in her own web instead, nurturing herself through this in a more healthy manner, and emerge better for it?

3. "Dog in a manger" is in response to "Did he ever talk about someone who hurt me? Someone named Murray?"

This one is... complicated.

To understand, it's important to note that this saying has a long, long history, and variations of it have been used in several different contexts throughout that time. At its core, it's exactly as described above -- someone who selfishly hoards something it doesn't need/can't use so that others cannot have it. But there are a lot of different shades of that thought. In one of its earliest references, it was specifically used as a commentary on pederasty -- the practice of sexual activity between a grown man and a boy/youth. And there are multiple instances later on where it's used in a similar (if less pedophiliac) fashion to comment on May/December romances -- the idea is that, when an older lover takes a much younger one, they're "wasting" the younger lover's beauty and vigor, which they can no longer hope to match themselves.

Jim Murray, a grown man, lusted after Steph, who was only 11. I don't think Eddie is trying to play games with this one, or analyze anything. I think he's just straight-up (as straight-up as the Riddler can get) answering the question. He's saying "ah yes, that guy who did that", which clearly indicates that Arthur did mention Murray.

He may also be subtly casting judgment on that, since he chose a reference that generally condemns such a thing, but it's hard to say.

4. "What day has no man lived to see?" is in response to "Do you think he wanted to give up crime?"

The actual traditional answer to this riddle is "tomorrow". No man lives to see tomorrow, because when it arrives, it immediately becomes "today".

I think this one is just really simple, and really sad. He's saying that we'll never really know. Steph herself is struggling with the idea that any possibility of her father ever changing his ways is now gone. All potential destroyed in death.

What could have, and maybe would have, happened "tomorrow" is beyond any of them. Maybe Arthur did want to give up crime, or maybe he didn't -- it doesn't matter, because he didn't live to see that day.

I think that's the answer that's most likely. However, he also might be trying to say that Arthur did want to give it up, but just didn't live to see the day when he would, if you also interpret the next riddle a certain way...

5. "The tiger envies the oxen but only understands its horns" in response to "Did he want to stop?".

Going out on a limb with this one, but given the question I think he's answering: the oxen lives peacefully on the farm, working hard but without strife or worry. The tiger envies this peaceful life, but as a creature of violence, all it understands is violence.

Eddie may be saying that Arthur did want to stop... at least on some level. Maybe a part of him did want that more peaceful life, without all the stresses associated with the life they lead as criminals.

But he would probably never achieve that, because crime/violence is all he understands.

I think, however, it's far more likely that Eddie is just following up on the previous answer, and not implying anything about what Arthur actually did or did not want to do. It doesn't really matter what Arthur wanted -- it never had a chance to happen, and frankly, it probably wasn't ever going to anyway. Because Arthur really only understands one way to be.

6. "The number you can't count on your fingers" doesn't have an associated question at all, but it's directly in response to "One straight answer and I'll leave."

Eddie struggles here before giving his riddle, and the impression I get is that it's not just because Steph has gotten violent with him at this point. What I can't decide is why he would find it difficult to continue, when he's been rapid-firing riddle responses for the entire conversation. Maybe it is just because Steph's about to beat the shit out of him and he knows it, but... I don't know. It doesn't feel that way.

As for the riddle... it doesn't really have a good traditional answer. I've seen reference to it being "11" (which is mildly interesting because that's how old Steph was when Jim Murray tried to assault her), but that doesn't actually make any sense to me -- there are tons of numbers you can't count on your fingers, not just one (or, alternately, you can count even more than that if you think beyond just counting by ones).

I think @armed-with-a-waffle-iron is probably correct here -- Eddie thinks Steph is missing the point. What she's looking for is something that can't be quantified. There are no answers. The way I interpret the previous two riddles, this one would follow naturally: none of what Steph is asking about matters. She's not going to find what she's looking for here, at the very least.

The part that throws me for a loop, actually, is the Riddler's words after Steph leaves. Steph having a question mark over her head is a pretty obvious thing to say, but why is he speculating about Arthur's "game"? It seems to imply that he thinks/knows that Arthur is alive... but even if that were true, why would he assume the man's grief-stricken daughter was part of any sort of plan?

I don't think they actually ever follow up on this, so I guess we'll never really know.

I'm gonna have a go at the riddles which The Riddler throws at Stephanie Brown in Robin (1993) #113. @a-bad-case-of-the-stephs I'm hoping you can help me out, haven't actually read Robin in well over a year.

It's a gift that keeps on taking. It's a theft that keeps on giving. Having a child is the "gift" and when Arthur was imprisoned or estranged, his child was "stolen" from him. When Stephanie came into Arthur's life, he saw her as a "white elephant", but when he no longer had her, he became driven by the idea of her.

One bug is wrapped in a web, therein to die. Another bug is wrapped in its own web, there to be reborn. In a sense, being tangled in a web can be fatal but it can also indicate introspection and growth. Arthur's obsession with leaving clues were often his undoing so will Stephanie preoccupation with her father be her's or will it actually represent reflection and change?

There is a dog in the manger, but it cannot subsist on hay. A manger is a feeder for livestock, typically holding hay; which dogs do not eat. A "dog in a manger" is a person who spitefully refuses to let someone else benefit from (or let go of) something for which he or she has no personal use (dictionary.com). But dogs cannot subsist on hay and the livestock cannot eat with the dog in the manger. If the dog doesn't relent or change, then everyone loses. Stephanie is the dog and her memory of her father is the manger she cannot let go of.

What day of the week has no man ever lived to see? Judgement day. You have to be dead to see it. And they're both very much alive.

The Tiger envies the Oxen but only understands its horns. The Tiger envies the Oxen's power but it only understands power through the language of violence. Steph easily outmatches The Riddler in a fight yet is confused how he still holds all the cards although she attacks him because she only speaks the language of violence.

I am the number you cannot count on your fingers. Edit: he’s saying Steph’s missing the point; you can’t count him on your fingers, he’s not that kind of number.

Would love some input.

[thoughts-of-caly]

peak media interaction is actually understanding the movie jokes they make in psych

[up-in-flames-writing]

In lieu of Stuff Your Kindle day, can we talk about the issue of how the m/m genre of books, romance or not, is almost entirely dominated by women? Can we talk about how the most recognisable gay couples in media are written by women? Can we talk about how queer men can't even write about ourselves, how we are only allowed to exist when it's from the point of view of a straight woman sexualising us?

Can we talk about that? Or am I going to get called misogynistic for pointing out the disparity between who gets the writing deals, & who gets their books turned into movies, & whose shit gets popular versus whose doesn't? Can we talk about how m/m fiction is only allowed when it appeals to a cishet gaze, or is that too much for tumblr to take?

Can we also talk about how trans queer men are even more hated by publishing? Can we talk about how we get shit from both sides? Can we talk about how books about the experiences of being a queer man, written by queer men, never get the same recognition as books written by women on this subject (barring academia which has its own problems)?

Can we talk about that? Can we?

[n4rval]

FUN VALUE 62: The Eccentric Genius

Isn't it odd how firsts are seconds? As in, should we consider the order of exposure by FUN value or follower number? Though I suppose goners are not meant to be linear at all. This is why all of the Followers reiterate that central piece of the story, yet, each of them offer an unique perspective that helps us piece together not only Dr. W.D. Gaster's current condition, but who he is as a character.

No, there is no typical way to look at a character who defies the very notion of a written script. To be atypical among the already strange, to fit right in yet feel so obviously alien, the sole lump of hard coal among shiny gems.

It makes sense why ASGORE took so long to hire a new Royal Scientist.

After all, the old one... Dr. Gaster. What an act to follow!

They say he created the CORE.

Coal that burns the most effectively and brings light to all around him, in more ways than one. Impossible only until someone steps forward and makes it possible, to pursue the most absurd of ideas and be stared at with either unease or awe, to make it an act to follow.

From the occasional inconvenient property damage, the unecessarily bulky gadget that looks like it came straight out of a cartoon ...

... to the grand opening speech nobody got a single word of but applauded for the flashy lights anyway.

However, his life... Was cut short.

One day, he fell into his creation, and...

Will Alphys end up the same way?

This bit can be particularly misleading at first glance, alluding to the idea of an accident or, possibly, a suicide of sorts. We already know how this bit played out, however, the mention of either instance is purposeful in a way the ideas complement each other.

To be special is to be strange, and loneliness is often the price of brilliance. It can be difficult to escape feelings of alienation when people seem to get along so naturally without having to make a conscious effort to understand and be understood. This parallel with Alphys isn't only due to their shared position, but the taxing demand for excellence that comes with it in exchange for belonging.

It wouldn't be a absurd to speculate that, possibly, Alphys would one day have a manic episode that would both be her greatest stunt and her last breath in this earth. Ah, but this is where they deviate, isn't it?

Beloved Dr. Wacky Dingus, too in love with life to leave it, yet never satisfied not to risk it - who continues to offer mystery and wonder, once through light, now through dark.

[catboygirljoker]

working on his character ref for khoc week has got Boy on my mind so im gonna Boypost

trying to imagine lamia in a relationship with anybody who isnt That Old Man is really funny to me because like. when i sat down to figure out who lamia was, i asked myself the question, "what kind of person not only could be in a relationship with xigbar, but would benefit from being in a relationship with xigbar, and would benefit xigbar to be in a relationship with"

and that kind of person is so hyper specialized that trying to put him in a relationship with a normal well-adjusted person is like trying to take one of those giant tube worms that live near boiling hot hydrothermal vents, and putting it in, like, a sunny meadow.

every other person lamia's tried to date has either abused him, tried to fix (or "fix") him, or been completely put off by one of his many idiosyncracies. and even if a potential partner were able to "do everything right", i think lamia would still chicken out on them because he cant deal with people being nice or affectionate to him in conventional ways.

like ive designed this guy to be an extremophile, hes not gonna be able to survive anywhere but the caustic soda salt lake i designed him to live in

[obnoxiousarcade]

im thinking again

[rosicheeks]

4:35 and I'm thinking about putting a baby in a certain sexy Tumblr mutual

👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

[lilirilibored]

POV my dad tried to insult me in japanese but literally can’t type so i get to make a ranma reference (ft my sister idk what she’s mad about)

[devotedlystrangewizard]

shoutout to my dad for complaining his baldurs gate 3 download took 45 minutes. i cant even play it but go OFF

[jlf23tumble]

What does coachella I will survive make you think?

It makes me think thoughts about break ups!

[primofate]

Confessions Series - Part 2: Description [Genshin Impact Male Characters]

In a nutshell: He asks if you have your eyes set on someone. You start describing HIS features and watch for his reaction. (Hint: He likes you too)

Other works in this series: (Part 1 - Overheard)

Warnings: The usual, haven't written in a while, please forgive mistakes, bit of angst in Diluc (couldn't help it), I am a sleep deprived mother, some profanity, for some reason did not feel like writing Zhongli though he's one of my faves.

Characters: Aether, Albedo, Alhaitham, Ayato, Baizhu, Bennett, Chongyun, Cyno, Dainsleif, Diluc, Gaming, Heizou, Itto, Kaeya, Lyney, Neuvillette, Scaramouche, Tartaglia, Wriothesley, Xiao, gn!reader

Personal Favourites: Diluc, Wriothesley

Aether

"Yeah, I do," you start. "He's very selfless...He's always running around helping other people,"

Aether nods, intense gaze in his eyes while listening.

"Hmm...He has...a partner. Like a companion he always travels with..."

Aether's brows start to furrow and his head tilts the slightest bit. Paimon flying next to him has no clue who it is whatsoever.

"He's not originally from Teyvat...He's on a journey, you see..." this is where you start getting nervous

You see it click in Aether's head slowly, and his eyes start to widen the slightest bit

"Hey, that sounds an awful lot like you, traveller! Why have we never met this person before, Y/N?" Paimon asks and you only smile.

"P-Paimon," Aether glances at her and then back to you. It's silent for a moment. Paimon is super confused.

But Aether being Aether didn't want to get the wrong idea and racks up the courage to ask you one last question. "He's on a journey...to look for his twin sister?"

You smile the brightest smile you've ever given him. "Correct!"

"Ah...Well..." Aether starts to feel the heat on his cheeks. "That's..." he doesn't say anything else for a few seconds. "Don't get me wrong, I'm just...I'm happy!"

Is basically flustered when he realizes you've technically just confessed to him.

Albedo

"Simply put, I think he's dedicated to his craft," You shrug and smile

"...An admirable trait," he responds.

"He's frequently in Dragonspine. He spends a bit of time in his lab there," you decide to just go straight for the obvious.

Albedo pauses. "I...see..." Turns to you with a small smile "I wasn't aware that you were that fond of me,"

"Now you know," you simply say and try to play it off with a wave of your hand.

He chuckles under his breath and strides over to you while saying. "Well then, I suppose it's my turn to talk about the person I've set my eyes on,"

Proceeds to describe you accurately, down to your likes and dislikes. In his eyes, you seem like something so precious and you can't help but feel a bit embarrassed.

Alhaitham

"Hmm... Sort of," you explain. "He's a little...hard to reach,"

Alhaitham "...and you still pursue him?"

You laugh a bit "I'm hardly pursuing him, I'm just...observing. I like watching him, even though he has the most unreadable face I've seen,"

Alhaitham goes quiet for a moment. He catches on fast, he already has an idea but is cautious about what he says. "...I see," he doesn't ask anything else, but you continue to offer information.

"He likes reading. Really smart guy...but kind of no nonsense type. Very straight to the point," You begin to feel a little nervous so you pretend to read your own book with a small shrug.

The silence is deafening.

"I suspect that type of person will be hard to put up with," he suddenly says aloud and you chuckle in response.

"Possibly, but he seems to be putting up with me too...I guess?"

He suddenly closes his book and leans forward to pry the one in your hands away. He locks his gaze with you. "...'Putting up' is hardly the word I would use." his lips twitch the slightest bit before continuing. "He has little to no patience for other people...so if he keeps you around...perhaps it signals something else,"

"Something else...As in, I'm special?"

Again he quiets for a moment, before he stands up, chair scraping the floor. "...Precisely," he turns to start walking out of the library, waving a hand behind him. "I'll pick you up in the morning tomorrow,"

Ayato

"I do, but he's a very busy sort of man,"

Ayato "Is that so?" he pours tea for you.

"Quite. He's also a very important person,"

He hums and watches the billowing steam from the tea. "It sounds as if I might know this person," but he genuinely doesn't know it's him, he just thinks its another noble.

"...You most definitely know him. He has a sister. Lovely girl." This is where you avert your gaze from him in fear of him instantly connecting the dots.

He talks in pauses "A...sister..." His mind is starting to make connections but he can't be quite sure yet. So he prods further. "...Does she happen to have a vision?"

"A cryo vision holder, yes," you're biting the inside of your lip at this point. There's a moment of silence before you hear Ayato laughing rather gleefully, like he was amused by a story.

"I see." he ends with a chuckle. "I apologize for being so busy, Y/N," he smiles at you "I promise I'll do my best to arrange my priorities in order to spend more time with you,"

Baizhu

"He takes his job too seriously and can be quite reckless...Sometimes he even puts himself in danger,"

Changsheng catches on immediately. The snake had already known for a while. Baizhu was just being dense. "Oh here we go," the snake half whines.

Baizhu gives it a weird look before turning his attention back to you. "That does sound reckless,"

"I've told him a couple of times to think about himself too...but I guess he's just really passionate about his job,"

Baizhu sort of shrugs, "What IS his job?"

"...Well for starters he owns a pharmacy around town,"

To Baizhu the realization hits all too slowly. It's not that he was slow or dense, but he was having a hard time believing that it was him you were talking about, specially when you hadn't said it outfront.

"...You do realize I'm the only one who owns a pharmacy around town?" he asks, eyes piercing through you and awaiting your answer.

Changsheng is the one who answers for you. "Yes you ridiculous doctor, Y/N's pertaining to you!"

It's the first time you've seen him blush and he turns his head away when he does so. "I-I see, well...that's rather, unexpected...but not unwelcome,"

Clears his throat "Just give me a moment"

Changsheng would roll its eyes if it could.

Bennett

"Has a lot of energy...Sometimes I wonder where he gets all of it. I really like him for that though."

Deflates as soon as you start talking about your "crush". What kind of answer was he expecting anyway? That you had eyes for him?

"He has a bit of a...problem when it comes to luck," you continue

Bennett stops, you look at him and you can practically see the gears in his head starting to turn a little faster.

"Y-Y/N? Are you talking about..." then the gears suddenly stop. "Oh what am I saying, it can't be. Ahahaha! Let's go!" starts walking again as if nothing happened

Your jaw drops and you're forced to just DIRECTLY tell him you're talking about him.

"...Oh...Oh! F-For real?! Oh...Sorry... I just thought... there's no way! B-But, I'm really glad! Really!"

Chongyun

"Hmm...He's a little shy...but he's very responsible,"

Chongyun stares at you intently and nods as if taking notes.

"He doesn't like spicy stuff,"

Chongyun nods twice, eagerly.

"He's very dedicated in learning about thaumaturgy,"

Chongyun blanks out, brows furrow but still nods. Slowly.

"He's really good with a claymore too!"

Chongyun stops and stares at you, you see a hint of red gracing his cheeks "Y/N...You can't possibly be...talking about... m-m-m-"

Can't seem to say it, so you outright say that it is, in fact, him.

Combusts into a tomato red

Cyno

"How do I say this...He's a pretty strict guy." The two of you are playing Invokation TCG during this convo.

"Mmhmm..." Cyno is focused on his cards, frankly he doesn't give a craps ass who you're into. He didn't even know why he asked, he just dug himself a hole.

"...but he really only takes his work seriously. It's his job to be serious, I guess. I think that's what Matras need to do," he finished his turn and its yours now, though he's still studying his cards intently. Until you get to the Matra part.

"He's a Matra?" You rarely see a surprised face on Cyno so you focus your gaze on him. "Which one?" He further asks. Honestly he looks about to murder someone.

You blank out a bit at how intense his stare was, "Well...You know. That one, the one who's really into Invokation TCG,"

He immediately follows up without missing a beat "I don't know anyone else who's into--" then it clicks.

It was so damn silent for a good 10 seconds. You clear your throat, tear your eyes off him "Um, it's your turn,"

STILL doesn't budge until he finally goes back to his cards with a whisper, you can't really tell but he looks slightly bashful and you can barely, BARELY hear him "...If I win then we go on a date,"

"Okay, and if you lose?"

Cyno "...I'm not gunna lose,"

"See, I told you he's a really serious guy,"

Dainsleif

"I think he's a very dedicated person," you get lost in thought a little, thinking about him. "Whenever I look at him...Sometimes I feel as if there's a certain sadness in him... Perhaps he blames himself for not being able to protect his nation,"

He IMMEDIATELY knows. And he knows that you hurt for him too. How could he not?

"He searches for answers... I don't know for how long, I suppose a long, long time," you close your eyes, imagining how long he must have been wandering Teyvat.

You only open your eyes when you feel a hand brush against yours. He's looking straight at you, neither happy nor sad. "...You don't have to feel that way, for my circumstances,"

The brush against your hand disappears and reappears next to your cheek, his fingers gently resting on it "...Knowing that you feel that way, has taken away some of the burden that I shoulder,"

His gaze suddenly hardens and his voice drops to a whisper, "But please, just don't end up in the same way as everyone else,"

Diluc (I don't know why I end up writing a whole novel for this guy. I guess he's my OG favourite)

You pause for a moment, wondering how to describe Diluc. "...Sometimes... I feel as if I know a lot about him and yet... he's still far off in the distance,"

Diluc, rifling through paperwork, doesn't even look at you. "...That tells me nothing about him," there's a bit of bite in his statement.

You sigh a little, "I mean, simply said he's a hardworking man. He always has Mondstadt's best interests in mind...but he prefers to work alone,"

He's silent, but you can still hear the paper shuffling.

"....but people love him. They care for him. I suppose I understand why he keeps a distance but..." at this point you don't even realize that you're just rambling and staring into space. Sort of in a daze of thinking out loud. "...isn't it lonely? ...I suppose I shouldn't assume how he feels. Maybe he's fine with it...I just wonder how long till he sees us..." there's silence, no ruffle of papers, you're still just staring at the bookshelf and you continue in a monotone voice. "...or sees me,"

You blink, and all of a sudden its as if a magic spell is cast on you and you wake up to the reality that you've been rambling about him. You sit up straight "Oh," then turn to him with a careful smile. You don't think he knows what or who you're talking about anyway. "I better get going," you stand, "Jean must be waiting for me."

You leave, and he doesn't stop you.

You don't really think anything of it, feeling as if your whole monologue was very vague...but to your surprise he knocks at your door in the evening, there's a bit of rain falling.

"Diluc? You're drenche--"

"I see you,"

The determination in his voice lulls you to keep quiet and only stare up at him, wondering if he had more to say, but instead of saying something, he leans in, wrapping his arms around you and resting his forehead on your shoulder, as if he had been defeated.

You only welcome his embrace, and, for the first time in a long time. Diluc finally feels like he's home.

Gaming

"Passion!" You nod your head as you say it. "He knows what he wants to do and is incredibly dedicated to it!"

Gaming looks surprised, has no idea you're talking about him. "Huh! That's really cool!" He thinks he's the total opposite. "Wish I could be as dedicated as him."

You kind of laugh out loud and he raises his eyebrows and tilts his head. "What?"

"Gosh you really sell yourself short," you shake your head "Anyway, this guy, right, he kinda works two jobs," you put out your hand to count one and two "One, for the Secure Transport Agency and two, he's in a Wushou Troupe,"

Gaming instantly straightens his back and looks at you wide-eyed. You figure you had to be direct when it came to him otherwise he'd never get it with how modest he was.

"...You're...talking about...me?" You smile at him sympathetically.

"You know, Gaming, I wish you saw yourself the way others saw you. You're a great person,"

Big smile, but legit looks like he's about to cry. "Between the two of us? I think you're greater Y/N,"

Heizou

"...Honestly he's kind of a flirt," you raise your eyebrows at the fact and kind of question yourself why you like this kind of person. "Makes me wonder if he does that to everyone, you know?"

Heizou hums and puts his hand under his chin in a "thinking position"

"That's not enough evidence to go by. Perhaps we can investigate this guy together to see if he's worthy,"

You look at him, pursing your lips while musing and giving him a suspicious look. You're not sure if he's figured it out.

He's got no idea. I mean, it was a pretty general description. "Any distinguishing features?" he asks.

You look at him in a deadpan manner. "Red hair, I guess. And moles under his eyes,"

He looks back at you with a matching blank face.

Then breaks into a wide, close eyed grin. "I see! From experience, that person is truly trustworthy,"

You sigh a little, "Is he though?"

He chuckles heartily. "I promise you he is," offers you his hand with a genuine smile. "Let me show you,"

Itto

"Ummm... big, tall, strong looking guy. Intimidating at first look but he's actually a dork," you explain.

Itto crosses his arms above his chest with an unamused face. "Tch! No way! Ain't no one taller than me in Inazuma!" Then he looks smug again. "Anyway, keep goin'. What else?" Only asked you because he wants to see what your "type" is.

"...Popular? Nah... Infamous is the word, I think. He kinda gets into a lot of trouble,"

Itto raises a brow "You serious? Whaddyou want with someone like that?" as if he wasn't a troublemaker himself.

"I mean... He also loves life and somehow always sees the good side of things."

Itto "Eh... guess that's a good thing..." folds his arms behind his head and huffs.

This guy is never gunna get it so you drop more obvious hints. "He's an oni who has his own gang."

For a split second he looked like he was going to get it, and then... "WHAT?! There's another oni who wants to challenge the Arataki Gang?"

"That's not what I--"

punches his fist onto his palm "Lead the way Y/N, let me at 'em!"

"I'm talking about you!"

"Huh?"

"Itto, there's no other oni around town!" leave it to him to make you exasperated.

He quiets for a few seconds. "...But Y/N..."

You expectantly stare at him, curious what he was going to say about your confession.

"...Did you just call me a dork?"

Of course that's what he picks up on.

When he finally processes it though, he's stoked and on an all time high.

Kaeya

"...good at talking to people, and he knows it... Exudes charisma like he breathes air," You're saying this with a glare.

He chuckles and rests his head on his fist. "Why, pray tell, do you look angry when saying that?"

"Not angry..." you mumble under your breath, eyes trailing away from him. "Just... probably a lot of people like him,"

"And you don't like that?" He smirks. He totally knows.

"...No...Well...I'm okay with it... It's just... I think he's so much more than what he shows to others,"

That, he wasn't expecting. He actually feels genuinely touched.

"Sure he jokes around a lot...Is good at making people feel comfortable...but he's also kind...and you can always count on him," there's a faraway gaze in your eyes now, a small smile on your face. "To me, he's...a safe space."

Kaeya's smile drops. It looks like he's unhappy and you think that maybe you've made a mistake. Still...there's no way he knows that it's him, right? It was kinda vague...

You're about to stand and excuse yourself but he catches your wrist easily. "...You know..." he starts, meeting you eye to eye. He looks at you as if he's looking into your soul, his eyes the gentlest you've seen them.

"You make it so hard, not to fall deeper in love with you,"

Lyney (I have no idea how this ended up so dramatic)

"He isn't exactly a trickster...but he has a lot of tricks up his sleeve,"

Lyney "Oh?" Raises an eyebrow. Something kind of clicks in him, but he shakes it off. "The good kind or the bad kind?"

You stall a little, thinking of the answer, knowing that he's Fatui. "The...good...kind,"

"You don't sound very sure," he gives you a lopsided smile.

"It's complicated," you admit. "Regardless of the circumstances though, I think he's a great magician,"

You watch his face turn into surprise quite quickly, but he still looks and feels unsure of himself. "Oh, perhaps...I can learn a thing or two from him?"

Your smile turns forced and hard. He can't be serious? He STILL doesn't know, or...what?

"I...Well..." You don't know what to say next, but he seems to get the idea.

"Sorry, have I put you in a hard place? Ahaha..." Scratches the back of his head. "My apologies, I was just curious,"

This, for some reason, really puts you off and you feel as if you've been rejected, even though you technically had not outright told him that you're talking about him.

It seems silly for you to get upset, but you are. So you stand, and make a request of him. "Can we... just pretend this conversation didn't happen?" and you give him some sort of excuse that you need to run an errand or something, and you're off, leaving him feeling...guilty. But he doesn't know why. Or does he?

Lyney would look like the type of person who would be confident about himself. But, really, as a magician, he had to be 1000% sure about something before he went ahead with it, and so...that's where his doubt stemmed from.

Lynnette is really the one who knocks some sense into him. "...and you...let Y/N leave?" after hearing the story from him.

"Oh, Lyney... Regardless of what Y/N feels... For you, next to Freminet and I, is there someone else that you love dearly?"

That's how he ends up at your doorstep. Though you've seen his disappearing rose trick hundreds of times, he was the most sincere at that moment, when he says sorry that he didn't get the hint and to give him a chance.

Neuvillette

"Serious person. He seems to put his work first, above all else," you say. "I respect him a lot for that,"

Neuvillette is interested in what you say, but doesn't know at all that it's him. "He does sound quite respectable," he says while looking through some files.

"A long time ago he said that he feels like he's an outsider...but really I feel like there isn't anyone who knows Fontaine the way that he does,"

Neuvillette, moves the file he was reading downwards, just to look at you questioningly. "He's from Fontaine?" this was surprising to him.

"Well...he currently resides in Fontaine, yes," you nod.

"Ah," he answered curtly. "And I have never met him?" he asks.

"...He's very busy." you bite your lip, about to say something and you know that the next sentence is the point of no return. "He's the Iudex...so it's hard to catch him,"

You swear you can hear your heart hammering in your chest.

You see him put his files down and just stare at you with a sort of...unsure look.

His shoulders relax, he wasn't even aware he had been tense that whole time. "That... must have taken a lot of consideration and courage to say," he clears his throat.

You only nod your head slowly, moving your gaze away from him with an awkward smile. Hand absentmindedly grabbing a book and flipping through the pages...you had no idea what you were doing out of nervousness.

"I apologize...I'm unfamiliar with what to do in these kinds of situations... However," he pauses and seems to think carefully about what he was going to say next. "Please don't take it as a rejection. I'd be honored to navigate this with you, if you would so graciously have me,"

Scaramouche

"He's an asshole," you bite back a laugh.

He instantly knows.

"Actually he acts all tough only to give in to his inner-kind-of-agreeable-personality,"

He snorts

"What? Am I wrong?" you challenge him. You KNOW that he knows. The two of you have been hovering around each other for a while, and there's a certain closeness between the two of you. Though that line was never crossed.

He doesn't answer you back but prods you more. "Is that all? You like that he's an asshole? Are you some type of masochist?"

You almost laugh. "No, you moron. I'm saying he has a weird way of showing he cares. He's always biting my head about not being careful enough. But if he really didn't care he wouldn't be screaming at me, you know what I mean?"

Scaramouche grumbles something under his breath and crosses his arms, turning away from you.

"Say that again?" You ask, not hearing what he said.

"...I said, you're not as stupid as I thought you were," shrugs his concealed embarrassment off and turns back to you all nonchalant again. "Anyway, stop yapping and get going, we got things to do,"

Snatches your hand and starts pulling you to walk with him.

Tartaglia (I feel like this is ridiculously short but I also feel like Tartaglia would have known a LONG time ago if the two of you had the feels for each other)

"Oh man...Probably the most reckless man I know,"

Also knows. Instantly. But shuts his mouth just so he can listen to you talk about him, but it gets deep real quick.

"In my opinion he's a handsome guy. Real charming," you smirk the tiniest bit. "but I don't know if I can keep up with him, honestly. It's a little hard not knowing when he's going to come back...or if he's even gunna come back at all,"

You weren't going to hide the fact that you were scared shitless he didn't return from Fontaine for ages. You legitimately thought he had died.

Tartaglia stops you there, by suddenly cradling your cheek. "Y/N," he's wearing a pained expression. "I'm sorry,"

"Don't be, it's your job, right?" You reassure him, and shrug.

He sighs "Yes, but I'll promise this to you as I've promised my family," he smiles, the most confident smile you've seen on him. Even more confident than when he wields his blades. "I'll come back to you, I always will,"

Wriothesley

"Er... How do I say this... He kind of has some... big boss energy?"

"Oh?" he sips at his tea, glancing at you while he looks at today's paper. "So he's a bigshot?" he asks curiously.

"Somewhat, yes. Intimidating at first look, but...he just has a great sense of responsibility," you pick at the selection of cakes and cookies he has.

"Huh," he lets out in a quick huff. In the deepest, DEEPEST parts of his mind there is a NANOSECOND that he thinks its him but it gets erased so quickly he's not even sure that he had thought about it.

"Sounds like a good person... Any interesting, weird quirks?" he grins as he says this, yet again glancing at your expression.

Your lips tremble a bit at what you're about to say, because you're SURE he was going to get it once you say it. You gulp and feel the hairs at the back of your neck stand before you say out loud "He likes tea. I kind of wonder if it's an addiction," you can't meet his eyes.

He's looking at the paper he's reading but nothing.registers.in.his.brain.its.like.it.stopped.working.

You shift in the uncomfortable silence but he calmly folds up the newspaper and places it on his table. "...I'm inclined to ask, because it would be embarrassing if I got the wrong idea,"

"Mmhmm," you pop a cookie in your mouth to distract yourself.

"By any chance, are you...talking about me?"

"Mm," you nod your head, still not looking at him and glue your eyes on the cookies instead, out of embarrassment.

Suddenly chuckles. You brave a peek at him, now covering his eyes with a single hand, head tipped back to rest on his chair.

You're not sure if that's a good or bad thing.

"Sorry, no, it's just... I didn't think it would happen this way." Visibly takes in a big breath and sighs it out slowly. Seems to have regained his composure and is back to his confident self, smiling at you. "Thanks Y/N, I... don't think it's much of a secret that I enjoy your company too. I'm just a little embarrassed that you beat me to it...some big boss energy huh?"

Xiao

"...He takes on everything by himself. I worry about him," You look at the stars as you say this. Xiao doesn't say anything.

"But I'm glad that he's opening up a lot more now. It's great to see him among friends,"

Xiao has a feeling at this point, that its him you're talking about, but he still doesn't say anything and keeps his gaze in front of him rather than on you.

"Yes, the road in front of him is long but...he's also already come a long way," you sigh a little "The time of Rex Lapis has long gone, but he still sticks to his principles. I think his dedication is part of what I like about him,"

This is when he turns to you, blank look on his face, contemplating on what to do. When you turn to meet his gaze, its then that he decides to bridge the gap between the two of you, shoulder to shoulder, leaning in sideways to catch your lips in a chaste and rather shy kiss.

"You should give a bit of credit to yourself, for putting up with me all these years, Y/N,"

End!

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[nightingale-prompts]

Danny lives in a horror horror movie-part 2

Part 1

Once again this is inspired by surrealist horror books and podcasts. This is mainly inspired by Welcome to Nightvale more directly with other influences as well.

The people of Amity Park are strange. The entire town was off.

Wes, the teenager that worked late at the gas station was not the talkative sort but he gave quite the few clues.

"You aren't from here aren't you?" He said cleaning the black blood off his face.

"Uh, no. We are hero sent to investigate-" Superman tried to explain but Wes began laughing.

"Heros?! Haha! That's a new one. Alright, nutcases you got me." Wes laughed "New people are great. I only get locals these days."

"Wait, so no one outside the town comes here?" Batman asked, still trying to keep this investigation on track.

Wes went silent.

"No one comes here. This gas station is on the edge of town." He picked up his book again.

"If no one comes to this town why is there a gas station built just outside the city limits?" Batman asked this time more firmly.

"Let me specify. People tend to come here once. People come into town every once in a while and they stay. They don't leave. No one leaves." Wes didn't sound like he was making a threat just saying what he believed.

"That's not normal. Why would that happen?" Batman asked.

Wes sighed deeply as if he had this conversation time and time again.

"People don't just end up here. Usually, the ones that come here are those that want to leave their old life behind. They don't look for this place they just end up here. Sometimes they get freaked out but they settle like the rest of us and just make their place here." He explained but he really didn't feel like it.

When another question popped up Wes just turned his radio to a station and turned it all the way up.

"Good Evening citizens of Amity Park. It is another beautiful night here in our quiet little town. Here at the local public broadcast station, we wish you a great day and we hope that you remembered to not leave your shoes outside your door. Amanda Sawyer forgot last Saturday and hasn't been seen since. Please remember or end up like poor Amanda. This was a warning from the town's public health committee." A young but not too young voice said over the radio. "You know that is the mark of a caring local government. Sure they spend so much on bloodstone alters and bi-yearly mandatory festivals but we all know it's for our health and happiness. Now moving on to current events: A group of strangely dressed visitors are in our town. They are at the Cabbymart Gas Station at the end of town. They are asking Wes a lot of questions and Wes as always is in a bad mood. Hang in there Wes we all have those days. Retail am I right? We'll check in later with an update as this story evolves. Remember to welcome our visitors when you see them. Until then here is the-."

The broadcast was switched off as Wes turned to another station.

"Who was that? What was that actually?!" Flash asked hysterically.

"That's just Danny. He works at the radio station now." Wes grunted still not in the mood.

"Okay but how did he know we were here? We just got here and we haven't even gone into town."

"He just knows. I don't even get what you're asking! Why wouldn't he know, he reports the news?! Look can you guys just buy something or leave?" Wes said exasperated.

The heroes had little chance of getting more answers out of the teen so they went into town. Despite it being past midnight now the people of Amity Park were up and about. Watering their gardens and talking in front of illuminated cafés. They all looked carefree and jovial. Even a woman greeted them like the sight of people dressed in capes and spandex was normal.

But things here seemed out of place. Things just didn't match. Bloodstains made patterns into the sidewalk like children's sidewalk chalk.

The buzz if the radio station broadcast could be heard from window sills.

"We interrupt this broadcast for our sponsor Subway. Subway: Eat your cold dead heart out. Now with that out of the way an update on the revolutionary ghost situation. The mayor had formally declared that he would be kept at the museum where he could parade about however he liked. I'm sure the children of the town will adore his charming way of shooting at nothing and spending an hour to reload. There is also an update on the amusement park now that Mr.Stiches caretaker role has been filled by my friend Sam we can expect the horror house can finally reopen for the season. Buy tickets now. And lastly the update on the stangers in town. The brightly colored fellows are still meandering around town. I wonder what they're thinking. Probably things like: Where are these bloodstains from? What are we doing here? And most importantly. Will I ever see my family again? All good questions."

Amity Park was a strange place. But the people liked it that way. They never blinked twice at the horrid and horrific thanks that happened. Perhaps they were monsters in their own right but unlike the jaded masses of Gotham, they were downright jovial about it. In their world, there weren't demonic entities or ancient gods. What they experienced were things, undefined by mortals. Reality blurred with something else, somewhere else. So they adapted.

It was when the heros was a group of children attacked this Thing with long knurled limp and lips like puss-filled sacs under the watchful eyes of parents did they understand. They were the monsters here.

"Another win for Girl Scout Troop 667 in their hunt. Their parents must be so proud. It brings me back to 4th grade when all the children were kidnapped and brought to the library by the monstrosities we call librarians for the summer reading program. Had it not been for Valerie and her high reading comprehension score and display of berserker rage tactics we would have probably all died. I still remember as she stood over the body of the fallen librarian with the bloodied book Hannibal held aloft. She was an inspiration to us all and the reason we fled to the woods to train under her as her children's militia. Books and knives in hand we well-read warriors set out to keep our town safe. Remember kids of Amity Park, we look to heroes like Valerie and the clawed librarian's hand that hangs around her neck as a symbol of pride. Don't forget to return your library book. The librarians are still alive and while the most feral ones have been disposed of there still is a small population of them left in order to preserve the local food chain and they can smell late returns."

[moonstruckme]

Thawing Out

summary: You and Sirius are in dire need of a new coach just weeks before the Olympics. Remus is a former figure skating prodigy forced to retire after a career-ending injury. Though it's not smooth skating right away, those stiff Olympic village beds are dying to be broken in.

collab with @ellecdc

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10 | part 11 | part 12 | part 13 | part 14 | part 15 | part 16

cw: modern au, chronic pain

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words

Remus still wakes before dark every morning. It’s automatic, an urgency and excitement that thrums through him like an old instinct, born from years of his alarm clock rousing him at this time. The rink is always at its best right now, when they’ve just finished resurfacing the ice and no one else is around. It was Remus’ favorite time to practice. 

Now, he has a new reason to get up. His hip clicks as he does it, so he starts his day with a couple of proactive painkillers. If he really wanted to be proactive he would stretch like he’s supposed to, but there’s no time and Remus doesn’t feel like it. He’ll pay his toll for the negligence later. 

The webpage of his Airbnb boasted a five-minute walk to the rink, but with his hip it takes Remus seven. It’s like an odd sort of muscle memory, an old routine from another life that feels as bitter as it does comfortable. He heads out early to give himself some cushion. The streets are empty but for bakers and baristas, the first hints of dawn tinging the sky a deep blue. When he turns a corner and the rink comes into view, the absence of his bag hanging from his shoulder is a phantom ache. 

The front doors are locked but the side one staff uses isn’t, the Zamboni driver already inside. Remus lets himself in, makes a cup of tea from the hot water dispenser they leave out when concessions are closed, plants himself on a bench, and waits. 

And waits. 

And waits. 

Remus has nearly nodded off when two pairs of shoes come bounding up to him. Well, one pair bounds. The other drags. 

“Hi, sorry we’re late.” You’re breathless and hauling a sullen-looking boy along behind you by the hand, but you manage a smile when Remus looks up at you. “I had to run over and get him out of bed. It’s good to meet you!”

You hold out your untethered hand. Remus might normally stand to take it, but he no longer feels like doing you the courtesy. Your grip is firm and warm. 

“You were supposed to be here at six,” he says. 

You wince. “I know. Sorry, Sirius is really not a morning person.” 

Remus thinks that he might put more stock into your apologies if you looked a tad more contrite. As it is, your countenance is almost cheery, a fizzy eagerness about you as you look between him and the ice like you can’t wait to get out on it. 

In stark contrast, the ill-tempered boy behind you seems not to have a clue where he is. He looks rumpled and disoriented, squinting in the rink’s fluorescent light. 

“Then why didn’t you pick another time?” Remus asks. 

He hadn’t realized he was still looking at Sirius, or that the other boy could talk, so it’s a surprise when he answers. “Wasn’t my bloody idea.” 

By the way you grin, Remus wonders if you’ve even heard the obvious bitterness in your partner’s tone, or whether it’s gone straight over your head. 

“I like the rink better early,” you explain. “No one else ever comes before the hockey practice starts at nine, and they’ll have just finished resurfacing the ice.” 

Begrudgingly, Remus nods. “I always preferred it about now, too.” 

He realizes immediately that his agreement was a mistake, because your smile grows into something far too brilliant for the early hour. Christ, what has he gotten himself into? There’s you, starry-eyed and effervescing all over the place, and your partner, who looks more inclined to fall asleep on your shoulder than put on his skates. 

And this is the pair skating duo Remus is supposed to take to the Olympics. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Watch that back foot!” Remus shouts across the ice.

Sirius doesn’t look happy about it, but he corrects the placement of his skate, transitioning smoothly into the next synced turn. 

“Good,” Remus murmurs to himself. 

Once Sirius got out on the ice and woke up a bit, he was good. He skates with the technical proficiency of someone who’s been in the sport since before they started primary school, and the intuitive artistry of someone who loves it. You’re much the same, though your virtuosity and obvious competence are consistently undercut by hesitation, the grace of your movements interrupted when you second-guess yourself. But these—technical prowess paired with devotion—are the basics of what makes a good figure skater. You’ll have to be flawless if you want to do well at the Olympics. 

And Remus has found many flaws. 

“No, no—shit!” Remus stands as you fall out of your jump again, catching yourself on your forearms. “You’re still under-rotating! Come on!” 

Sirius snarls a quick “Hey!” over his shoulder before turning his back on Remus, going to help you up. He speaks to you quietly, checking you over as you stand. Remus seethes. 

He has no clue why he’s been called out here to coach a pair. Remus doesn’t know pairs, has never been a part of one. He was a solo skater. And frankly, it makes him wary that what’s supposed to be the best skating pair in Britain has asked him, a former solo skater who’s been isolated from the figure skating community in general for the past two years, to coach them. But Remus does know figure skating. And he knows when skaters are making stupid mistakes behind their skill level. 

“What aren’t you understanding?” asks Remus as you skate back to the edge of the rink. He really wants to know. “It’s simple. You can do this.” He knows he could have. As easy as breathing, and he would kill to have the chance again. 

“What the fuck is your problem?” 

Sirius’ glare is sharp as knives. He steps off the ice before you can, positioning himself between you and Remus. Your lips purse with a knowing sort of apprehension. 

“Sirius…” 

“No, you don’t talk to her like that,” Sirius spits. “It was a tiny mistake.” 

Remus raises his eyebrows, incredulous. “I’m trying to help her! It was a giant mistake, with a simple fix. You ought to be telling her the same, unless you’re okay with your partner snapping her ankle weeks out from competition.” 

“None of that means you get to fucking yell at her! Who do you think you are?” 

“Okay—” 

“I’m her coach,” says Remus, voice rising, “and—”

“Then coach her! Maybe if you’d give some actual fucking feedback instead of just nitpicking—” 

“Okay!” Your shout cuts through the space, echoing in the empty rink and silencing the other two. “That’s enough.” 

You haul Sirius back by his shoulder. Your grip doesn’t look severe enough to move him, but he goes, stepping back to your side. His eyes never leave Remus’. 

Your own gaze jumps between both boys, that same spark he’d seen in you earlier burning with a different light. 

“Let’s call it for today,” you say firmly. “Okay? We’ll try again tomorrow.” 

Neither boy speaks, though Remus nods. It seems to be taking all of Sirius’ willpower to bite his tongue. He gets the impression it isn’t something he succeeds at often, so Remus isn’t ashamed to say that it brings him a perverse sort of joy to see it now. His tiny bit of smugness fizzles out, though, when your eyes land on him. There’s something desolate in your expression that’s a salient deviation from how you’d looked at him before. Remus has the sinking feeling that he’s disappointed you. It’s more distressing than he can account for. 

“We’ll be here on time tomorrow,” you say in that same steady tone. “And my jump, I’ll work on it.” 

Remus nods again. You return it, and when you turn to leave, you drag Sirius after you by his shirtsleeve, picking up your bags along your way. Remus’ mouth feels dry. His lips are chapped, his fingertips hurt from the cold, and the sight of your skates sinking into the rubbery floor makes his hip ache terribly. 

It’s only once you’re nearly out of earshot that he manages to mumble, “Thank you.”