#have i made a post about this before. i think so but whatever

[princesssmars]

so...we can all agree vi is an ass girl, right?

modern!au. 18+ content ahead. post contains lesbian sex and dry humping. inspired by this video from love and deepspace. i didnt know they got down like that. wc : 3.081.

she didn't show it often before, but lately violet could quickly become so achingly desperate for you.

she didn't show it often, but violet could become so achingly desperate.

at the start of your relationship, she tried to play off her need for you in a casual way, brushing it off as just being a very attentive girlfriend. you never had a problem with, always open and accepting of whatever little bits of attention she would give to you.

but then one day she slips, and she can feel your dynamic shift as soon as it happens.

she was away visiting her family for the holidays, body snugly tucked under the covers in her childhood bed as she held her phone above her face. the house was quiet, the air was cold, and she was having an internal battle with the reasonable part of her that told her to call it a night and drift off to sleep already...

and then there was the other side. the one that suddenly brings to her attention the steady heat that’s been building beneath her stomach after you sent the prettiest photo of you all dolled up in your parent’s guest bathroom. the one that made her bite her lip as she observed every inch of you through the screen before instantly liking the photo and sending back a flirty message. the one that now gravitated her fingers to calling your phone in the middle of the night and hoping and praying you’d pick up, nearly breathing a sigh of relief when you did.

"vi? are you alright?"

loaded question, she thinks to herself. in perfect health? of course. of sound mind? debatable, but for the most part yes. alright? no, definitely not at the moment.

"yeah, yeah, i’m alright princess. just wanted to talk to you."

"aww, you're such a sweetie. how'd i get so lucky, huh?"

and yes, she does appreciate and silently adore the sweet sentiment. but the sound of you cooing at her with just the tiniest hint of a rasp in your voice from tiredness only cements her fate, having to use all of the rational energy she has left to stop whimpering.

"tell me how your trips been. wanna hear your voice for a little longer."

"no problem. well im fine, everyone here is good. besides my aunt nat, she's still moody because no one allowed her in the kitchen again-"

you go on about your family and their shenanigans, and she cant help but quietly laugh along when you giggle about some of the stories and memories you've made. but the 'conversation' takes a turn when you start to talk about her.

"you know i miss you, right?"

she feels a subtle pang in her chest, half longing and half desire. "oh yeah?"

"yeah. rolled over in bed this morning and kept trying to find you till i realized where i was. it's weird not waking up with you."

she hums, hoping you cant hear her stuttered breaths through the receiver. she doesn't know why hearing about you subconsciously looking for her embrace is what does it for her, but she can only give a short response as one of her hands trails down into boxers.

"wish i could've been there with you, baby."

"mmm, me too. missed your warmth, swear you're like my own personal heater. wish you could be here with me now."

her breathing stops and her eyebrows raise. "oh yeah?"

"yeah. missed your hands, too."

fuck, fuck fuck fuck. she's taken off guard, mind racing at your words and tone and before she knows it she has two fingers stuffed inside of herself while she quietly whimpers for you to keep talking to her.

"fuck, just a little more baby, please, 'm so close-"

"aww, you're such a good girl for me, aren't you violet?"

she swears she bites her lip so hard it nearly bleeds when she cums, walls clenching around her fingers and eyes rolling back into her head as she reaches her peak while you talk her through it.

the next week when she picks you up from the airport she can see it, a glimmer in your eye and quick in your smile that wasn't there before. she tries to ignore it when she pulls you in for a long-awaited embrace but then she just gets so enveloped in your warmth, your smell, the feeling of your body pressed hers. she's only yanked out of her lovestruck stupor when you whisper a sly little comment in her ear about how long and tight she's been holding you.

"call me crazy but if i didnt know any better i'd say you're feeling a little desperate for me."

so the cats out of the bag. she's super attached to you, so what? it's not like you ever complained about it, instead constantly using her neediness to your advantage to get what you want from her. you'll likely never have to beg and convince her to get up from bed to change the thermostat again, only needing to graze your hand across her chest and press a lingering kiss to the space beneath her chin before she's leaping out of bed and speedwalking down the hall.

and don't even get her started on her libido. the both of you had an amazing sex life already, able to almost instinctually tell what brought the other the most mindblowing pleasure possible. but ever since that night, it's like her desire for you only increased tenfold, barely able to go a day without getting her hands on you or vice versa.

it only reached a head when you decided to truly test her limits.

she had taken up a later shift to help out loris who had a date, which meant by the time she returned home she was too tuckered out to have her way with you. but during times like these, she could always count on the early morning sun waking her up just in the rich window of time for morning sex. but when the light rays peek through her bedroom window and she uses her arm to pull you closer she finds you absent, your side of the bed cold.

after a brief search through the house, she opened her text messages just to find your sent a sweet text only an hour before she’d woken up to tell her your friends had invited you on a last minute girls day around the city the night before, and you didn’t want to wake her from her sleep since she seemed exhausted when she got home.

vi groans and falls back into the pillows, lousily texting you back a short message to tell you she loves you and hopes you have fun with your friends. she’ll be alright, she can go a few more hours without you near.

but only an hour later after she’s showered and eaten a quick breakfast she feels the ache start to build in her chest, eyes darting up to the clock on the wall and groaning when realizes just how long this day is going to feel.

everything she tries to do to keep her mind off of you fails miserably. doing chores? she's thinking back on the time when the both of you first split up household duties when you moved in together, feeling giddy at sharing something so menial with the girl she was enamored with. making herself a protein shake for the gym? now she's stuck in a daydream about all the times you've been in this kitchen together, sharing sweet baked goods and sweeter kisses as you settle into domestic bliss.

she has got to get out of the house.

jayce understood her problem as soon as she called inviting her down to the gym for a few hours to work off any ‘pent-up energy’ she’s currently... unable to get out in her preferred method.

it works for a while, the familiar smell of sweat and the slight ache in her muscles grounding her back into reality as she makes casual gym talk with jayce. she's just starting to feel like the absence of you is off of her mind when she hears your text notification on her phone, accidentally leaving her place as jayces spotter to open up her phone.

as soon as her brain registers that you’ve sent her pictures she makes up some lame excuse to get to the bathroom, tuning out her friend's groan of disapproval as she speed walks to the restrooms and locks herself in one of the stalls.

the first few messages are sweet, little selfies of you and your friends as you enjoy your day together as you get some sweet treats together at one of the malls concession stands. a lovesick smile involuntarily grows on her face, always happy to see you smiling and enjoying yourself with the people who care about you. but her eyes start to squint when you start to send pictures of you trying on various outfits from some of the outlet stores, posing demurely in front of the trying room mirrors.

but then her eyes widen to the size of dinner plates when suddenly shes getting photos of you in her vagina's favorite enemy - lingerie.

even before vi started acting so eager about your body, it wasn't hard for you to catch on to the fact that the woman was so clearly an ass girl. even on five hands, you wouldn't be able to count the number of times you’d caught her staring or sneaking small glances at your behind, not to mention how she thought she was being discreet about her affection for it with the numerous times she’d slap it when walking by you. she tried to laugh it off when you brought it up in conversation, assuring you that she loved each and every part of you and could never pick a favorite.

but now you were determined to really see how much she wanted you, using every dirty trick in the book you could think of. she feels her face get hot as she looks down at her phone, the image of you in lacy lingerie, back facing the mirror as the magenta fabric (nearly the same shade as her hair, jesus christ,) stretches across the swell of your ass and crisis crosses across your back.

her brain short circuits. before she can think about it she’s saving the pictures to her phone and calling you at the speed of light.

“hey, violet. how’s your day?”

“you are so… evil. amazing and beautiful and evil.”

your giggle rings through the receiver, melodic and teasing. “what's the problem? you don't like the set?”

“don’t even joke. when are you getting home?”

“mmm not till late, the girls wanted to go to a club tonight.”

“oh you’ve got to be kidding me-”

“do you want me to send you the address?”

vi hasn't been to a nightclub in months, at first harshly avoiding the hard party scene in favor of her sobriety before feeling no need to indulge in the party scene once her life became more stable, especially after she met you. but she never stopped you from going out and having fun with your friends, tagging along once in a blue moon to sip on a mocktail while she chatted up the bartender and stared at your ass while you danced.

tonight was an extremely necessary blue moon.

the air is hot, and the feel of her drink burns her throat as vi waits at the bar, blue eyes wide and aware as she stares at the club’s crowded entrance like it owes her money. the bartender asks if she’s alright, scared she’s waiting for someone to arrive to jump them before she assures them she’s fine. they slowly nod and get back to making drinks, nearly dropping a glass out of fright when she slams her glass on the bar and quickly makes her way over to you.

if she wasn't so laser-focused on finally getting her hands on you she might've been a little cocky at the fact that you look like you were about to salivate at the sight of her, knowing she made the right decision to wear the tight pants she knew you loved on her. in only a second she’s got her hands settled on your waist, not caring that your friends are laughing at her clear excitement over seeing you in your club outfit, a tiny dress so she can see the wide expanse of your legs, your arms, your shoulder - fuck, the straps of the pink bra aren’t even hidden by the strapless dress-

“wanna dance with me?” your voice is nothing short of flirtatious, and you already know your answer by the way you start to walk past her to the dance floor, already predicting how she follows you like she’s on a leash.

as the both of you grind and dance in the middle of the club every thought racing through vi’s head is centered on you, physically and mentally unable to focus on anything else when she finally has you so close again after what felt like years. she feels a familiar sense of euphoria when her palms glide up and down your waist, smirking to herself when she feels you shudder when her hands reach up to cup and discreetly squeeze your breasts. she’s feeling happy about finally starting to turn the tables back on you before you arch your back into her, your ass pressing into her as your hand reaches up to her head, nails dusting along her cheek before reaching into her hair and pulling.

it’s only to be expected that that’s her breaking point, dragging you through the dancing bodies and into the back of the building until she can find anywhere to get you alone, thanking any god that exists above that she finds an open storage closet and drags you inside, pressing you face first towards the door. a little voice in her head reminds her not to be too rough with you, but it’s quickly silenced when she sees just how much you crave it, how your back is yet again arching and your hands are clenching into fists from their places on the wooden door.

it's nice, to remember that you want her as much as she wants you.

in only a few seconds she’s given into it, pressing you further into the door by pressing her body against yours and grinding her crotch into the fat of your ass, eyes lidded and head dropping to rest on your shoulder from the rush of pleasure she feels below.

“vi, oh my god-” your voice is light and airy, every word almost choked out as you struggle to prevent yourself from moaning out and alerting every person in the bar about what the two of you were up to.

“i know, fuck, I know, baby. i just-” she cuts herself off with a groan when she lets her hand travel down your front and under your dress to your panties, face running hot when she feels just how wet you’ve gotten. she’s all but rushing to ruche up your dress, mind going fuzzy yet again at seeing the pink fabric covering your ass and how it feels under her when she begins humping you yet again.

“nngh, knew it. knew you were an ass girl.” you giggle.

“god, please stop talking-”

whatever snarky little comment you were going to make dies in your throat when her arm comes up and around your neck to hold your jaw, turning your head around and smashing her lips onto yours. you whimper and moan into her mouth, violet greedily eating the noises of your pleasure as she takes you up against the door.

you pull back for a few seconds to catch your breath, both of your eyes drifting to the thin trail of saliva connecting your lips together.

she can feel it, then. an almost electric charge that runs form her body into yours. you lean into her touch, arch into her further like you’re trying ot merge your bodies into one. when her other hand tightens around the pushed-up fabric of your dress and she gets that absolutely adorable scrunch between her eyebrows you know what she’s asking, and you gently nod your head.

and so she presses her lips back to yours, her crotch further into your ass, and rides you in the cramped nightclub storage closet. she's grateful that you seem to be enjoying it just as much as she is, her mind completely focused on getting closer and closer to her peak. she can feel it building quickly, a growing heat below her stomach reach to burst at any moment. all it takes is you, sucking on her tongue before mumbling muffled words into her mouth begging for her to finish against you. she cums with a stifled moan into your mouth, only amplified when she feels you shudder and go loose in the legs beneath her.

you’re both panting, sweaty, and tired as you stare at each other. it’s a comfortable silence as you help each other adjust - vi fixing your dress and you attempting to put her hair back in her signature style.

“so,” your voice lilts up as vi’s busy fixing her jacket, debating if she wants to take it off to cool down or not, knwoing she’ll probably just wrap it around your arms outside anyway. “you gonna admit it yet?”

she rolls her eyes, looking at you with an exasperated but fond look in her eyes that makes your stomach flip. “you just love being proven right, don’t you?”

“absolutely.”

“fine, you were right. are you happy?”

“very. now, let’s go home annnd maybe,” your fingers hook into the loops of her pants and tug her closer,”you can show me a little more just how much you need me, yeah?”

maybe, vi would show her neediness for you more often. just a little.

[wonderjanga]

Yous an Old Bitch

It was about normal day, and Marvel was being interviewed. It was a fairly normal interview. The reporter was asking normal questions and the topic of his age came up. Somehow, after more talking, he for some reason dropped this line:

Marvel: “Listen, if something has a lightning bolt like mine, I probably either made it, or someone inspired it off of me.”

This single line led to a manhunt, looking for items with the bolt. Museums have never been richer.

Person 1: “Did you make this?” *shoves their phone into his face*

Marvel: *pushes the phone away so he can get a better look* “No, it was made for me.” *staring at the photo of an unfinished statue*

Person 1: *enraptured* “Please explain.”

Marvel: “Well, it was a really hot day, and the sculptor guy was taking forever. So like halfway through, I flew out the window and just decided to avoid the sculptor guy. The guy died before he could finish my thing. That’s why the statue isn’t done!”

Someone videoed this and after seeing this, many more people worked up the courage to ask him about their finds.

Person 2: “Captain Marvel, did you make this?” *shows him a photo of a really beat up piece of metal that had a tiny lightning bolt*

Marvel: “Yes actually! That was my first actually good piece of metal work.”

Person 2: “You can do metalwork?”

Marvel: “Yup!”

Person 2: “What was it originally?”

Marvel: *nostalgic* “It was kinda like a tiara only this was before tiaras were things.”

Person 2: “Was it pretty?”

Marvel: “Of course!” *sounds proud* “In fact, it was so pretty that if it were up to me, I’d march right into that museum and restore it with some magic! Though I don’t think the museum would let me.”

Person 2: “Wait, who was it for?”

Marvel: “My wife!”

Person 2: “Huh?”

News that he had a wife spread like wildfire.

or

Person 3: “Did you make the newly discovered cave paintings in China?”

Marvel: “What cave paintings?”

Person 3: *shows him a photo*

Marvel: “Oh. Yeah! Me and a buddy were messing around there. See those symbols?” *points to some symbols*

Person 3: *nods head*

Marvel: “See, that was our language from back then and it basically says that the chief of our tribe sucked. In short, teenage caveman vandalism, only we weren’t teenagers.” *looks nostalgic* “Man, those were good times… I mean, sure, we got stoned to death for that, but still!”

Person 3: *horrified and intrigued*

Also FUCK ME because I had to rewrite this THREE FUCKING TIMES because it DIDNT SAVE. WHATEVER IS UP THERE DOESNT WANT ME TO GO BACK TO MY NORMAL POSTING SCHEDULE. THIS SHIT SHOULDVE BEEN OUT TWO HOURS AGO.

[covenofagatha]

Do I wanna know? (Part 1)

Sequel to But you're my stepmom!

Picks up a few months later after your dad and Agatha get divorced and you've started college

Word count: 3.8k

Warnings: fingering, mommy kink, slight angst

Fuck. You do not want to do this. 

It’s a Saturday night and you’re here. You should’ve said you had anywhere else to be, but instead, your car almost gets hit as you turn the corner in possibly the narrowest parking garage you’ve ever been in. It makes you swear and you stomp on the brakes so quickly you think you might have a bruise from the seatbelt. 

But luckily, you find a spot on the first floor and squeeze between two other cars, muttering a silent prayer that you don’t scrape against them.

You wipe your sweaty palms on your jeans as you get out and walk into the lobby of the apartment complex. 

It’s nice, although you hate to admit it. You would surely not mind spending more time here if it didn’t mean having to see—

“Hey, sweet pea!” 

Him. You look to your right and plaster on a fake smile when you see your father standing there, slipping his phone into his pocket. 

“Hey,” you say softly, awkwardly patting his back with a hand as he embraces you. 

He had been asking to get dinner with you at least once a week for the past few months since he and Agatha got divorced. You’ve always found an excuse to get out of it — you had homework, you had exams, you had to work over the summer and you were so tired — but now that it’s your first weekend in college and he knows that you don’t have anything going on, he insisted. 

Plus your mom had sort of asked for you to go at least once. Your dad has been sending you updates about his apartment search and random internet posts that he found funny, and having lived at home all summer, you’ve kept your mom in the loop. She is still obsessed with him, always finding ways to bring him up in conversation, and you wish you were brave enough to tell her to just move on. She was absolutely ecstatic when you broke the news about him and Agatha and she’s been pressing you for updates ever since. 

Part of the reason she wanted you to go see him was to scope out his new place and see if there was any sign of a new woman. There was still no sign about the lady he was having an affair with, so you weren’t sure if things had ended. 

And when he moved out the first time, he took your mom’s can opener and she still won’t let it go. Before you left, she texted you that if you saw it, you should steal it back. 

After the divorce went through, your dad had decided to sell the house and look for an apartment a little closer to his work, and he’s lived in this place for about a month now. 

“How are you? How’s it going?” he asks as he leads you to the elevator. He presses his fob to the button inside and then floor six. You remember him being so consumed with having one of the top floors, like that would make him seem more important. 

You shrug and pick at the peeling skin on your fingers. It’s a bad habit — one of your many. “Pretty good. Syllabus week has been a breeze. Made some new friends.”

“Classes seem like they’ll be fun?” he asks. 

“Yeah, I hope so.” 

And then a tense silence falls over the both of you. You haven’t actually seen him since your graduation, which was a whole other level of awkward with your mom there too, and you both know that the two affairs and two divorces has put a strain on your relationship.

It does hurt a little. You wish there was a way you could reach over the cold gap between you and go back to how things were when you were a kid, when you actually liked being around him. 

But too much has happened. 

“Well, I’m really glad you were able to come down for dinner,” he says and you smile tightly. “I can’t wait to show you the place and then we can get whatever you want to eat.” 

The elevator dings and you follow him to an apartment a few doors down and he unlocks the door and lets you go first. 

The floors are a laminate gray, the counters in the kitchen marble white with black pendant lights over the peninsula. The refrigerator is stainless steel and there’s a completely stocked wine cooler fridge built into the cabinets next to the stove. You walk past the kitchen into the living room where the couches from his and Agatha’s house are set up around an entertainment center with a fireplace and a blue rug under the coffee table. 

“What do you think?” he asks, stepping next to you and putting an arm around your shoulders to bring you in close to him. 

You take his fancy bachelor pad in again. “Yeah, it’s pretty nice. Maybe just pizza for dinner? We can order and watch a show or something?”

Staying in and having the television as a buffer is a much better plan than going out and having to make small talk that will end up with him on his phone anyway. He agrees and calls to order the pizza while you perch on the couch and scroll on your phone. You already have a text from your mom telling you to call her when you’re done and your chest tightens at the thought of all the shit she’s going to say. It’s fucking exhausting still being in the middle of this — you really thought it would get better, especially now that you’re in college. And yet, here you are. 

“So…” your dad starts, plopping down next to you with a groan once he gets off the phone. He grabs the remote and turns the TV on. “You like your roommate?”

Your roommate, Alice Wu, is a sweet girl from out-of-state. You think that you and her will get along just fine and you’ve already agreed on all the rules of cleaning and having friends over. The first week has gone well and you’ve gotten close. “She’s cool. I think she and I will be good friends.” 

He nods and turns on a show you watched awhile and the two of you sit in awkward silence until the pizza guy rings from downstairs. You excuse yourself to the bathroom after your dad rings him in. 

The bathroom is through the bedroom and you take careful note of the sheets still strewn all over the bed and the two pillows at the top. One nightstand is cluttered with a phone charger, earplugs, a lamp, and a picture of you on your graduation day in a silver frame. It tugs at your heart and you instantly look away, not wanting to feel any more nostalgia. 

However, on the other nightstand, there’s just a matching lamp. No hair tie, no other chargers or personal belongings. 

But that stuff is easily hidden, so you go into the bathroom. One toothbrush, one retainer case, one razor. You can’t tell if you’re disappointed or glad. 

At least you won’t have to listen to your mom talk endlessly about a new woman. 

Your dad already has a plate with two slices on it for you sitting in your spot on the couch and you dig into it, suddenly famished. The atmosphere does warm up over time, and it’s no longer uncomfortable silence and you do end up talking a bit about his work and more about your school while the TV plays.

He doesn’t bring up your mom or Agatha at all, and neither do you. In a way, it’s nice to be removed from them for a few hours. Your dad has been villainized by both of them — and obviously he fucked up — but he is still your dad, despite your complicated feelings toward him. 

After a few episodes of the show, you shift to get up, grabbing your plate. “You’re leaving already?” he asks and checks his watch.

“Yeah, it’s getting late and I should really be getting back to the dorms,” you say, trying to sound apologetic. Even if the bubble has been nice, you have somewhere you need to be. 

It’s hard for your dad to hide his disappointment, but he gets it and grabs his keys to walk you down to your car. 

“How’s, uh, how’s your mom doing?” he asks. Still putting me in the middle of all the imaginary drama she’s creating with you is what you want to say. But you know that he’ll call her out for it and you’d have to deal. 

“She’s pretty good. Work’s been keeping her busy.” A safe answer. A true answer. 

“Good,” he says and shoves his hands into his pockets and you know what’s coming next. “And Agatha? Have you seen her at all?” 

Imagines of her hot body on yours flash through your mind. Her rosy nipples, her pale stomach, the heat that swallows up her eyes. “Yeah, I’ve seen her around. She’s doing all right, too, I think.”

Your dad nods and stops at your car. “Well, I had a great time with you,” he says and holds his arms out for a hug. You mutter something in agreement and give him an embrace with two pats — the way you’ve done it since you were a kid. “Let’s do it again soon.”

He tells you that he loves you and after you say it back, you get into your car and he watches you as you drive away. 

Begrudgingly, you call your mom and put her on speaker and not even a second later, her voice fills your car. 

“How was it? Did you see anything? Is there another woman? Did you find my can opener?” she asks all in one breath and you take a silent, deep breath. 

You can’t wait to be home. “It was a pretty nice place actually.” Your mom snorts. “There wasn’t any sign of someone else there and I didn’t have time to look around. We just watched a show and ate pizza.” 

She makes a sound. “Wow, father of the year. Maybe he cleaned up the place before you came over.” You hum noncommittally. “What are you doing tomorrow? Want to come over? I’ll take you grocery shopping.” 

“Yeah, let me just check my schedule. Alice and I might be doing something, but I’d love to go there for a bit. Especially for groceries,” you tease and she laughs. 

“I bet your father didn’t even offer to do that,” she says smugly and your face falls. Sometimes you wonder if she does half the things that she does for you just to one-up him. 

“Okay, well I’m almost back now, so I’ll let you know when I’m coming over tomorrow,” you tell her, eager to wrap it up, and about to turn in. “Love you.” You hang up before she’s even done saying it back. 

Once you park, you text your roommate saying that you won’t be back for the night — staying with family — and walk up to the apartment side door, letting yourself in with the fob on your key ring. 

Agatha’s apartment complex is smaller than your dad’s, but just as nice, and you prefer it a lot more. 

After the divorce, she stayed in a hotel for about a week before signing a lease on a place about ten minutes away from where the house used to be. You had helped her pick out the furniture and spent more time here than at your mom’s house the last couple months of school and she gave you a key to it the day she moved in. 

It got harder over the summer to hang out with her, as you worked at an ice cream shop in the afternoons into the evenings and she was working her normal nine to five, but you made it work. 

Things are really good between the two of you. There isn’t exactly a label on it, per se, but you both know that it’s a relationship. And without your dad in the picture and with her not being your stepmom anymore, there isn’t as much of a need to keep sneaking around — so when she puts an arm around you while you’re walking down the street and kisses your cheek when you say something cute and ghosts her pinky against yours, it’s okay. 

You know things might change a little with you in college now, but you’re ready for it. And if you spend more nights at her place than at your dorm, so be it. It’s not like anyone’s going to know, and Alice will just think you’re staying with family. 

Unlocking the door, you can practically feel the tension seeping away from your body. Agatha makes everything feel better. Even the house you grew up in, the one your mom still lives in, doesn’t feel as home as this does. 

You don’t see her when you first walk in and you walk into the living room to see her typing something on her computer, brows furrowed, and you can just make out the glint of a document through the reflection of her glasses. 

“Hey, you,” you greet, kicking off your shoes. She startles and looks up before slamming her laptop shut and smiling. 

“Hey, honey,” she says and pats the spot next to her while she leans forward to place her computer on the coffee table. “How was it?” 

Agatha had emphatically listened to your incessant complaining about having to get dinner with your dad, but in the end she had also pushed you to go. You groan and flop onto the couch, situating yourself so that your head is in her lap and you’re looking up at her. “It wasn’t that bad,” you admit and she smirks. “Don’t even think about saying ‘I told you so’. I will leave.” 

She tosses her head back with a laugh and you play with the strands of hair that’s falling over her shoulder and teasing your face. “I would never, darling. But I’m glad it wasn’t bad. How is he?” 

Your nose wrinkles. “Can we not talk about my dad? Although, I was just thinking about how much of a reward I deserve for going.” 

“Oh, you think you deserve a reward, do you?” she ribs lightly, raising an eyebrow and poking you in the stomach. You giggle and twist away from her finger before sticking out your bottom lip as pitiful as you can and giving her doe eyes, nodding your head. She rolls her eyes fondly. “What were you thinking, honey?” 

You shrug like you’re just now beginning to think about it. “Well, mommy,” you say, a thrill running through you at her sharp gasp. “I think since I was such a good girl, you should give me an orgasm.” 

“Oh, just one?” she asks playfully, and you surge up out of her lap, turn over onto your knees to face her, and pull her in for a kiss. Your lips move against each other with familiar ease, her tongue licking hotly into your mouth and you moan — her hands slide up under your shirt and rest on your bare skin before you reach down and take it off. 

“As many as you’ll give me, mommy,” you pant, and she grins before starting to suck open-mouthed bites onto your chest. You’re wearing green lingerie but she barely even looks at it before unclasping your bra from behind and tearing it off, throwing it somewhere on the floor. 

She swirls her tongue around your nipple before suckling hard and you whimper, holding her head right against you. It feels like there’s a wire running straight from your boob to your cunt and you quickly feel yourself becoming soaked. Agatha switches to the other one and soon your entire chest is sticky with her saliva and you’ve moved onto her lap, squirming. 

Her teeth nip at the underside of your breasts and you can’t take it anymore. “Mommy, please,” you beg, grabbing her hand and leading it to the waistband of your jeans. Her fingers rest there while you quickly unbutton and unzip and then you shove her into your pants, your hand circled around her wrist to just feel her. 

Agatha chuckles throatily and moves her fingers experimentally against you while you try to grind down for some stimulation. You suddenly feel so empty, a molten heat between your legs, and Agatha crashes her lips back onto yours. She sucks on your tongue and tugs on your bottom lip as she finally presses against your clit and your hips jerk. “So wet for mommy, aren’t you?” she huffs and you nod and try to move against her harder. 

When she finally pushes your underwear to the side and runs her fingers through your folds, you keen and bury a hand into her hair, face dropping down into her neck. She sharply gasps when you start breathing heavily against her skin, content to just keep your lips planted against her throat. 

She slides a finger into you and your walls clench around her, trying to draw her even more in. Each time she fucks you, it feels like the first time — the same energy is there, the same electricity. But at the same time, she knows exactly what you need, maybe even more than you do. 

Her thrusts begin to pick up and heat is rising through your body and you can see little indents in Agatha’s skin from where your teeth have slightly sunk in. 

“Mommy, mommy — please, I need more,” you whine and she obliges by pushing another finger into you and curling them just right. A high-pitched sound leaves your mouth and you start riding her fingers the best you can, rolling your hips to match her and get her even deeper. You’re clenching furiously around her as sparks begin to fly in your lower stomach and you can feel the beginning tendrils of your orgasm start to build. 

Agatha’s thumb circles around your clit without actually touching it. “God, sweetheart, you look so hot right now, taking my fingers like such a good girl. You feel so good, too. Never wanna leave you,” she babbles, making you convulse even tighter. There’s a slight pink tint to her cheeks and her breathing has picked up and you know she’s affected too. Her fingers are moving faster and she pauses for just a moment, making you whimper, before she stretches you out with a third. 

“Oh, fuck,” you swear, your walls adjusting, and the slight burn only adds to the immense pleasure you’re feeling. “Fuck, fuck.” Your head is spinning, completely drunk with her and her perfume that’s been invading your nostrils the whole time, and you can’t even form a single thought. 

She presses harder on your clit and with the hand that’s not currently inside you, grips your hair and pulls you away from her neck. You can see red blotches staining her skin and the thought of her wearing your marks around gets you even closer. “Look at me,” she grunts, her thrusts becoming more sporadic and you stare right into her dark blue eyes with your pleading wide ones. Your breaths intermix and she looks like she might also cum just from this. 

Agatha lets out a strangled gasp when her gaze flickers from your eyes to your swollen lips to your breasts that are bouncing with your movements in her lap. 

“Mommy, I need — right there —” You can’t even string together a coherent thought and she scissors her fingers inside you, the pressure making you see stars. 

She looks you up and down again, drinking you in like she might never get enough, and her chest heaves with each breath she takes. “Fuck, baby, you’re so perfect,” she groans and your head falls back as you keep riding her. “I need you to cum for me, okay? Cum for mommy.” 

“Mommy, fuck, I’m gonna — fuck I love you,” you groan, not even realizing the words slipping out of your mouth, the words neither of you have ever said before, before it’s too late and your orgasm explodes through your body in a way it never has before. You feel it in every crack and crevice inside you and she keeps fucking you just as hard while rubbing your clit and it quickly becomes too much, tears springing into your eyes. 

Agatha’s fingers finally slow down and she coos sweet nothings in your ear and you wonder if she even heard you. It’s been a few months since you’ve been together, but neither of you has really acknowledged the depth between you. 

And you just did, in the middle of sex. 

“You okay?” she murmurs, pressing a kiss to your cheek and you nod before she pulls out of you and you wince at the sudden emptiness. You fall back out of her lap onto the couch. She must not have heard it. 

There’s a slight gnawing feeling that begins to grow in your stomach — if you said it for real, in a moment that couldn’t just be blamed on a dopamine rush, would she say it back? 

Does she feel the same? 

Agatha kisses you before sticking her three fingers into your mouth so you can clean them up. “Good girl,” she purrs in a low voice. “Was that a good enough reward?” 

You’re still a little out of it, but you nod dazedly. “Yeah,” you say softly and she gets off the couch and walks over to the fridge to get you a glass of water. “My mom wants me to go hang out with her tomorrow. What are you doing at night? Can I come over after?” 

She pauses for a fraction of a second and then glances at you over her shoulder. “Um, sorry, baby. I have to work all day tomorrow. Some last minute things I’ve got to get done.” 

You hum, a little disappointed, but graciously accept the water. “No worries. Maybe Monday or something.” 

“Yeah, of course. Just a second, I need to go grab something,” she murmurs and then walks into her bedroom. You’re exhausted and you get off the couch, stretching your aching muscles, and you’re about to follow her when her phone buzzes on the end table. 

Thinking it’s just a work email or something, you glance at it and your stomach drops, heart lurches. 

It’s a text message from an unknown number. 

Can’t wait to see you tomorrow. 

@lostbutlovely33 @diorrxckstar @whoreforolderfictionalwomen  @katekathry @onemansdreamisanothermansdeath @tayasmellsapples @natashashill @mybraininblood @mysticalmoonlight7  @cactuslover2600 @loveem0mo @readysteddiero-nance @lonelyhalfwitch @lesbiantortilla @crescendoofstars @sol-in-wonderland @ahsfan05 @gbab09 @sasheemo @agathaharness @live-laugh-love-lupone @chiar4anna @fuckedupforkhahn @lowlyjelly @sweetmidnights

[idliketobeatree]

Here is one of the best friends he's made in what seems like forever; she's so open and sweet, beautiful and brilliant. It was inevitable, he thinks, that Niko Sasaki would effortlessly endear herself to Charles like a lost younger sister.

(And that is another story entirely, but not one for Edwin to tell.)

He finds it contradistinctive, Niko Sasaki becoming a new source and the easiest target of Charles' spontaneous, affectionate smiles — different than watching him stumble around Crystal. It's well-nigh surprising just how secure Edwin feels, observing their budding friendship, the phantom echo of it spreading around his chest like a slow warmth from a hearth. He harbours no jealousy or hurt at the frequency with which their more private conversations take place. He does not mind the way Niko wraps her hand around Charles' arm as they walk, not one bit, when his best friend's sole attention is focused on her excited chatter. He can thoroughly relate, after all.

As a matter of fact, Edwin suspects that the only thing he'll have to worry about is stifling an inelegant snort when they're all descending a hill in the middle of a legwork-heavy case and Charles picks Niko up for an impromptu piggyback ride.

"No no no no, put me down!", her voice carries over their heads, but Niko's shrieking protest dies in her throat just as quickly as it came to life, turning into an appreciative whistle at the view. In front of them, Crystal turns on her heel and raises her eyebrows in amusement.

"You're that desperate to be the last at home?"

"Please, we'll be there faster than you lot. Right, Niko?" Charles, ever the multitasker, uses his shrug to adjust the grip on Niko's swaying legs. "Edwin?"

He dares to look in their direction, dreading... precisely double the amount of puppy eyes sent his way. His lips twitch in a helpless smile.

"I must agree. The Charles Express is quite a commendable machine. I would not underestimate it, Crystal."

Charles barks out a laugh. Whatever expression Niko must've had on her face breaks through Crystal's composure; she, too, cracks up, a spring in her step as she turns to walk forward again.

"Can barely feel her, can't I? Lighter than my backpack," Charles says, matter-of-factly.

"It's not a race."

"It could be a race."

"I'm not going to race you down the hill in these platforms, be serious—"

"That doesn't sound like a definite no," Niko pipes in.

"Take them off, then," offers Charles.

Edwin glances up at the orange sun set against the milky autumn sky, to his left; the brightest thing on the horizon. He hears her gasps of delight at Charles' cheeky step through the trunk in their way. Something inside him has been shifting and smoothing out for quite a while. Edwin doesn't know how long it will last or what the destination will be. All he knows is that the slope hits his feet once or twice at most.

One afternoon she invites them to watch Scooby Doo together. It's the first time they've gathered as a trio, and Edwin immediately understands why this hasn't happened before when Niko unlocks the door to her room. The bed they usually end up on is narrow to say the least, why hadn't he noticed that before, but it seems too late to make a flimsy excuse and eloign himself from the picture. They were long overdue.

Charles, who looks about ready to turn into an orb of post-case tension, has no qualms about using the threshold for a shimmering quick wardrobe change. He appears right at home, comfortable, downright domestic, in socks, trousers and a polo shirt, sliding his suspenders down and trailing after Niko who heads for the coat hanger.

What Edwin doesn't expect, apart from the rather tight fit for three people - or rather two ghost boys and one living girl - is Niko giving him a knowing look over Charles' head as he unceremoniously flops down on the bed. His groan, which prompts Niko to pat him sympathetically on said head, makes Edwin snap his open mouth shut, suddenly flustered.

He waits politely, pulling down his knitted vest and admiring the decorative sequins sewn onto a flowery cushion, deliberately not looking at the long line of Charles sprawled on the neatly tucked in duvet. He half-listens to Niko as she chatters on, something about needing to show them the more modern rendition of their Mystery Inc. detectives, grabbing her laptop from the desk and sitting down in the very middle, hip-checking Charles' side. Charles sluggishly lifts himself and rolls onto his back, pushing himself up, shoulders halfway up the headboard, neck supported by a plush pillow, hands folded across his chest and long, long legs crossed at the ankles. He must have done this several times now, Edwin's lungs remind him before tightening into knots. The mattress barely dips when he gingerly sits down and settles, too. His back remains straight, and he is barely brushing her arm when she announces out of the blue, "I forgot my snacks. Give me a moment," climbing off the bed and leaving them in — on Edwin's side — suddenly charged, tense silence.

It feels different, of course it does, and Edwin feels guilty that his carefully tucked away thoughts are knocking on the doors of his consciousness when they're in Niko's room, for God's sake. Edwin tries to subtly move away from the overwhelmingly horizontal line of Charles' body. Right now, sitting cross-legged, Edwin's knees are barely touching him, and he bumps his knee against Charles' arm twice before stilling. He doesn't want to hunch down; never again. He stays put.

The sensation of Charles' bony elbow is like the flash of a sharp smile. The room fills with a low hum, something musical and... campy that Niko must have shown Charles on one of those afternoons. With his eyes closed, Edwin compartmentalises the points of sharp heat.

Much, much later, Charles jogs up to the beach where Niko and Edwin are watching the starfish. "What're you doing?", he asks curiously, just when Edwin finishes talking about their lack of a centralised brain.

He hears the shift in Charles' posture more than his opening to say something mouth, and a second of hesitation before it closes again.

He wonders if Charles has noticed their colours.

Niko sends Charles a lingering smile. Her eyes crinkle with mirth. "Luckily, love requires no logic", she says cryptically. They don't notice, crouching down as they are, but his head tilts synonymously with Niko's and Edwin's.

When he dares to peek at Niko, he finds her eyes locked with Charles', with an expression that Edwin knows she must have learned recently, but is not sure when exactly. It says something like, go on. Be brave.

He swallows and clenches his fingers around the red, red sea glass in his coat pocket.

[k-chips]

Yes. YES. I'm legitimately tearing up because you were able to perfectly describe what made me so upset and sad about the finale!

(Op, I know this post is from 2022 but bear with me, I'm late.)

The fact that I literally had the same expectations and feelings and reactions to everything as you had!

Joking about Lis and Tilda being exes, Tilda caring for Beta and wanting to help her, Sylens and Tilda mirroring each other and all the possible interactions with the GAIA gang after the game. I loved the idea of her staying with the tribes after the game, it's such a cool concept to have an "Old One" living with the new people of this new Earth. Using Apollo in the right way, teaching about ART, exploring new possibilities and, as you said op, forming new connections. (I'm still a firmer believer in the "Alva and Tilda would be besties" creed. Amen to me) They were all perfect ways to deal with her character, to make her "pay" for leaving Earth and Lis behind 1000 years ago and still not treating her as a mere "twist" antagonist (even if I was kinda expecting that since every character would talk about how untrustworthy she looked).

When you first meet her the game start by telling you how tragic her past was and so you can perfectly understand WHY she would rather fly off in space TWICE than having to live through yet another catastrophic event (first Rotterdam, then the Faro Plague and now even Nemesis) so WHY they then treat the whole thing as if she was just another selfish billionaire like Gerard and Erik?

I can accept her being obsessed with Aloy, I can see why someone with her past would develop some sort of obsessive and possessive behavior after 1000 years of guilt, solitude and apathy, especially towards what is left of the only person she felt good with but don't stop there! Go further! Explore that side of her and make her change for the better! It's such a waste to let her like that, not even a finale confrontation with Aloy before dying, like Regalla had. Show me the parallel between Tilda and Sylens, show me their funny bickering but also how they both change themselves and the other because of these fights. Show me Aloy's approach with both, show me her dealing with two different yet similar brilliant minds like theirs.

To go even deeper, it would be bad and a waste even for ELISABET's character! They had a very deep and special bond, whatever you think it as toxic from the start or not, they had the chance to make Lis' dream live on not only with Aloy, Beta and GAIA but even with her former partner. Lis' character could have helped make Tilda heal and be better even 1000 in the future, showing how strong Elisabet's legacy is.

Ok, I don't want to be delusional but there is still a little hope she's still alive in the Zenith base... you don't see her body, Aloy doesn't look for her for a finale shot or words like she always does with other enemies, they don't let you go back at the base after the finale and she still has the Far Zenith technology that could very much heal her. I mean, that little explosion can't be considered fatal but still...

I still want to believe we'll see more of her character, I don't want this to be the game that disappoint me after loving it so much like I loved the first one...

okay so gonna attempt to explain why the ending of horizon forbidden west upset me so much. i do want to say that up until the last five minutes, i loved basically everything about it. obvious spoilers beneath the cut. tldr at the end.

from the moment we heard the recording between elizabet and tilda I started joking about them being exes. even though I didn't think it would happen, I was hoping that tilda would end up switching sides because of her connection to elizabet. when that actually happened, and we were able to talk to her, from what she said about the zeniths, beta and herself, I felt like her story arc fit really well into a lot of what the game was saying about how it's not money or power or technology that matters the most, but human connection. when she talked about how the zeniths should have achieved more, and that they stagnated in vi, and that she wanted to show beta the beauty of art so her upbringing wasn't purely technical, and how alone she's been/is now, I thought that she'd end up seeing the beauty of this world and forging connections with aloy and the others. sure she talked about wanting to educate people with apollo, but imo that came from wanting to see elizabets dream fulfilled, and not having had enough time yet to see that the world as it is now is still beautiful, even though it's different. I thought that through talking to aloy and beta and gaia, tilda would come to see that this world was still something elizabet would be proud of, and that it's worth protecting.

even though I joked about elizabet and tilda being exes, and even though those vibes were really strong when we saw her art collection, I never actually expected them to go there. so when tilda confirmed that they were together, I completely lost my mind. the fact that they were canon, that it's canon that the woman who saved the world was gay, was just!! so much for me. I felt like it added a new layer to her character arc too, because it suddenly became that she was motivated by love to help aloy and save the world. it seemed like that had been her motivation for talking to beta too, that she'd tried to be almost parental to her.

so I thought tilda was a character that represented someone who had what some others in the game thought was important (power, immortality, knowledge), but who actually wanted human connection, to see the beauty of the world, who was motivated by love to do the right thing and help save the world, and who would come to love it herself.

except then ? the game does a full 180 and makes her the final boss fight, and she dies. and honestly, it did feel like a 180 on her character simply because of where I thought her character was going. she repeatedly said that she regretted leaving earth, and that she should've done more to save it. sure, nemesis is a threat that seems unbeatable, but since it's basically the faro plague 2.0, shouldn't that be a chance for tilda to do what she wanted to do , and stay to help despite the odds? but okay, say they needed her to be the final boss, her not wanting to take beta, and suddenly not seeing beta as a worth anything, and suddenly seeming obsessed with aloy , and us having no choice but to kill her was so?? awful to me?

given what nemesis is and where it came from, I was expecting that after the boss fight we'd be able to spare tilda, and that we'd keep her locked up and that she'd help us throughout the next game. that gradually through talking to gaia and aloy, she'd see that this earth is worth fighting for, even if the odds are terrible. if she had to be the final boss fight, I would've been okay with it if it had been tilda wanting to take aloy and beta, both elizabets 'children', without it being a weird obsession, but that after the fight she lives and we spare her so that she can help us with nemesis, and ends up being 'rehabilitated' or properly redeemed etc.

except there's no chance to spare her, and the game kills her. the game makes me kill her. and honestly, I'd partly expected her to die, but I'd thought that she'd die protecting aloy or beta. I'd actually expected her to sacrifice herself for beta to mirror rost's sacrifice for aloy, after aloy and beta had that discussion and tilda wanting to get beta back was a thing. and I would've been okay with that. it would've been okay for me, because it would've been tilda dying to protect her ex's 'child' who she loves, because that connection is more important.

except it's none of that. instead we get tilda wanting to kidnap aloy and gaia and run away, despite everything shes said, and the way she talks during the boss fight shows a weird obsession. to me, she went from being a lesbian motivated by love and grief to do the right thing, to an evil crazy low-key predatory lesbian, which I hate.

and it's only exacerbated by the ending with sylens. I thought that sylens and tilda were opposing mirrors of each other. tilda comes from knowledge and power, but craves human connection and the beauty and warmth of art. I thought her character would 'come down' to join aloy, and become grounded on earth by forming those relationships and wanting to protect the world after seeing it's beauty and value as elizabets dream. sylens meanwhile comes from this world, but craves knowledge and power and hates the 'primitive tribes' and sees himself as above all of them. I thought that as tilda 'came down' he'd 'go up' by taking the shuttle and going on that quest for knowledge he wants so badly. except instead, he has a change of heart and decides to stay which just seemed so unearned and unexpected to me? right up until that last conversation with aloy, he's still as scornful of her and the earth as he's always been. maybe I could see him going off to space, having second thoughts after spending time alone, and coming back, but in the moment it just feels wrong, especially when I felt like he and tilda were meant to be mirroring each other.

and maybe tilda being the final boss was obvious to others, and I was just blinded by being so ecstatic that she was canonically in a relationship with elizabet. but honestly, her being gay is, in the end, why I was so upset. if she hadnt canonically been with elizabet, and it'd been a headcanon, I'd still be bothered by the end of her story, but it wouldn't have upset me as much. because confirming her as being gay before the boss fight made it a tragic love story that ends up saving the world. confirming her being gay and then making her the final boss that dies makes it seem like her love was toxic. I've already seen people say that maybe she's lying about being with elizabet, and that the love was an unrequited obsession.

it's just. I went from being so happy and excited that she and elizabet were together, to being devastated by the last five minutes. I went from feeling like a game had never fed me so well, to feeling complete whiplash. I went from oh a canon gay ! to having to kill her. I was thinking about the potentials of after the game, like scenes with tilda and the companions, like her painting and adding colour to the base for kotallo, getting back to nature with zo, answering alva's questions, spending time exploring the world with beta and aloy, bonding with gaia over sharing stories about elizabet, starting a relationship because she's an immortal and gaia's an ai and they'll never have to be alone. and now, I haven't touched the game since, and it sucks because I loved it so much.

tldr: went from being ecstatic that tilda was with elizabet canonically and seemed to tie in with the characters as someone who craved human connection over knowledge and technology, to being extremely upset when she turned out to fit the evil predatory lesbian trope, and then we had to kill her.

[iamespecter]

the mazersize part of the game almost made me quit(I just looked it up at the end lol) so I would love to see your version of a chica venue :>

(made this post before the internet died lol)

YEAHHHHHH I wholeheartedly agree with you!!!!!!!! as much as I love Chica.... I cannot turn a blind eye to WHATEVER THE FUCK MAZERCISE IS!!! Like, I am a hardcore Chica lover and all of her variants but you CANNOT pay me to say "I love Mazercise. It's so clever" it is legit the worst section in ALL of SB and it PISSES ME OFF

Anyways what's the venue? Why, it's Chica of the Sea and Dancercise!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Still not letting go of the fact that everyone gets a cool venue but Chica gets fucking Mazercise. bleugh. disGUSting. I am offended get that shit away from me!!!! BONNIE'S VENUE IS SO MUCH COOLER AND IT'S A BOWLING ALLEY. HOW'D YOU MESS UP THAT BADLY MANNNN

Anyways, Chica of the Sea would be located in where Kid's Cove is. Which means, Kid's Cove and Mazercise have to switch places, in order to make the venue work.

Unlike the others' venues, Chica of the Sea actually requires you to go a little deeper down below via an elevator; to emulate the feeling of getting transported 20,000 leagues under the sea to experience the attraction.

As the name implies, it is an ocean-themed location where guests can learn things about marine life, as well as having multiple mini-attractions to offer, like an aqua park. A mermaid version of a golden Chica statue resides in the middle of the lobby before the elevator, one of the first things one would usually see when first entering the venue.

Unfortunately as it stands to the current day of the Pizzaplex, Chica of the Sea is now abandoned to rot beneath the mall, as Chica's popularity dwindled due to the Voicebox incident and management could not afford to keep it running. instead, she is given a new (albeit smaller) location: Dancercise!

Dancercise is Mazercise, but better. It's a DDR-styled maze with a dance floor in the middle, where Chica would host countless party games like "simon says", and zumba dances. The venue is designed to keep the oceanic theme a little bit so they could reuse as much props from the og as possible, and the goal is to keep the customers occupied as much as possible to bleed their wallets dry.

The Fazwatch map for Dancercise would be this:

Top left: Exercising room (away from the loudness of the main room) Top middle: Restrooms Top right: Staff room/Parts and service

Middle left: Food court Center: DANCE DOME: Hexagonal Maze (outer), Dance floor (inner) Middle top: Changing rooms and lockers next: Souvenir/gift shop corner: Arcade, maybe?

And the maze/dance floor would be this:

I also had a concept art in mind for the Dance Dome/Maze, but.... I didn't finish it due to my frustration at my skill level of making environments back then

The Dance Dome would be where Chica's boss fight happens. But before you enter the Dome, you are FORCED to give up all of your belongings to a party bot because an incident had already occurred before where someone brought a laser gun and a fazcam in the dance floor, resulting in a pretty heavy lawsuit.

A botched simon says game ran by a intercomms!Chica will then ensue where you have to play in the dark, only some parts of the floor will light up and you have to avoid the REAL Chica. You'd be given a limited amount of glowsticks in order to make traversal easier but you gotta place them wisely. (think like, Funtime Foxy's Night 4 in Sister Location)

And then instead of getting crushed by the compactor in the original; once the fight ends, a staff area would unlock, allowing Gregory to access the catwalks of the Dance dome. A small fight between Gregory and Chica happens, and Chica gets kicked onto the Jumbotron. The jumbotron on top of the dance dome would then fall taking Chica with it, causing the whole dancefloor to collapse, and a second phase to begin with shattered Chica; all in the now abandoned and grimy Chica of the Sea exhibit buried underneath.

I wish I could show and tell more, but this is where I've stopped making visual concepts. I mean, I still have MORE ideas.... and I still even have the glamrock decals for Chica of the Sea.... but I dunno if anyone would be interested in wanting me to expand further on what Chica of the Sea contains lol

[ghostgirl-22]

Tashi and/or Art’s physiotherapist walking in (Art’s room, a locker room, gym, whatever) to find Art and Patrick in just their underwear scrambling to get dressed after having sex.

Yes I could see it anon! Post challenger.

Tashi insists Art and Patrick go out to get a drink or something and try to reconnect since they haven’t really talked to each other in over a decade. Art goes because deep down he misses Patrick but he’s still reserved thinking they’re just gonna talk for an hour.

By hour four they’re drunk and giggling like they’re in high school again. And at 1am when the place is closing they’re still reminiscing so Patrick invites Art back to his place.

Art pings his location to Tashi with a note that he’ll be home soon, but they’re still catching up. They end up hanging out on Patrick’s motel bed. Watching an old movie on cable. Splitting a beer. And before Art realizes what’s happening he’s kissing Patrick. He pulls back shyly. Saying sorry. And Patrick just smiles and climbs on top of him. Then they’re kissing more. Touching all over. Art losing all sense of self in the pursuit of pleasure. Shaky fingers covered in lube. Fucking into Patrick because he needs it. He doesn’t even know how many times they do it. Just knows he’s waking up hungover, butt naked and pleasantly sore in Patrick’s bed to the sound of knocking. He rolls over but Patrick’s not in bed.

“I’m coming,” He stumbles, sleepy to the door. Only his boxers on, scratching his head he pulls it open. “Hey,” he says.

“Is uh… is Art here?”

Shit. It’s his physiotherapist. Tashi must have sent him over when he didn’t show up to his post game session this morning. Patrick pulls open the door and his physio Steve walks in.

It’s at this moment that Art kinda wishes Patrick had a little more shame. He sits up in bed quickly, embarrassment heating his skin as he searches for his clothes which are all over the bed and floor.

“Uh sorry man… um…” Art says, quickly trying to get into his briefs. Steve’s eyes widen when he sees him. He looks for maybe a bit too long before turning to look at the wall.

“No uh… no it’s um… Tashi said you were probably here so I figured I’d bring breakfast.” He holds up one of the shakes Art usually swallows down for breakfast. It was their usual habit to hangout after his post game sessions. Art sees his college buddies four times a year at most and he hasn’t really kept in touch with anyone from high school. Sadly Steve is probably his most consistent guy friend as an adult and he happens to be on the payroll.

“That’s uh… really thoughtful man I appreciate it,” Art says, glaring at Patrick who looks quite amused by all of it. “I completely forgot about our session.”

“I uh— I see. Um…” Steve lingers, he looks at Patrick and then chances another glance in Art’s direction. He’s stepping into his jeans. Or maybe they’re Patrick’s jeans. Fuck.

Patrick rests his elbow against the doorframe, one hand on his hip.“No way you were actually going to train after yesterday?” He asks, yawning.

“No this is my good friend and physiotherapist, Steve.” Art says, sheepish. “I’ve been seeing him nearly everyday since my injury.”

“Hey man, I’ve uh— I’ve heard a lot about you,” Steve says, smiling awkwardly at Patrick, his eyes trailing swiftly up and down his body.

“I bet,” Patrick smirks.

“That’s uh—Patrick and I— we’ve never— I’ve never done anything like this before,” Art says quickly and reassuringly to Steve. In case he’s thinking of bailing now. The way Steve stretches him out so well has led him to walk away with the occasional awkward boner. He’s not into Steve. At least he doesn't think he is.

Steve would always dismiss it saying it happened all the time… and that made Art feel a little less embarrassed about it. But now seeing Art like this Steve’s probably going to rethink the cause of those boners.

“No I mean… it’s no big deal. You know I’m gay so it’s nothing I’m not used to. And since you’re bisexual I figured you had to be—“ Steve starts.

“Huh?” Art interrupts, he’s given up and just decided to wear Patrick’s jeans, he’s buttoning them but they’re still sitting loose on his waist, exposing the thick strap of his briefs.

“It’s no big deal, honest, I’m not calling HR,” Steve says, smiling.

“No the other part,” Art says. “Did you say— did you say you were— that you think I’m—“

Steve laughs. “Is this a joke?”

“Uh I don’t know. I mean… I’m not…” Art begins and then he glances at Patrick, who continues to look endlessly amused.

“We flirt all the time.” Steve says. “You get hard every time I’m stretching you out. You know I love Beyoncé as much as Tashi does. You saw grindr on my phone when I accidentally left it open…”

“Beyoncé is a talented artist.” Is all Art can manage and Patrick laughs. Art tosses a balled up sock at him. He vaguely remembers seeing naked men on Steve’s phone but he’d figured it was some kind of anatomy thing. He’s a physio after all.

“You said the boner thing happens to people all the time…” Art says.

“Yeah it does… with my clients that are into men.”

Art feels his skin heating even more. “We—we don’t flirt,” Art stammers.

Steve laughs this time. “Sure…”

Patrick settles back on the bed. “This is hilarious actually. I like you Steve. Maybe we should all go out and eat real food. And I can tell you about all the times he didn’t flirt with me.”

“I’d definitely be interested,” Steve smiles. Traitor.

And here Art was thinking he drank too much and made a mistake but the whole time Steve thought he was bisexual. God. Maybe he’s bisexual?

“I know you think it’s funny but can you please not mention this to Tashi? God forbid, she finds out from either of you before I can explain myself.”

Steve chokes out another laugh and then covers his mouth. Art frowns at him. “What?”

“I’m sorry… I thought that was another joke. You know, she’s the one who told me you were bi. She said if we hooked up she’d be good with it so I um—I think she knows.”

Art rubs his palms on his thighs refusing to take one more glance at Patrick’s ever widening shit eating grin.

“Oh.”

[a-babe-without-a-name]

Sit Next To Me

Chapter 3: That’s Actually Very Unreasonable.

You had created two rules for yourself.

Rule One: You could do whatever you wanted. Get the degree you want, party when you want, cancel plans when you want, love who you want. Whatever you really wanted to do, you were going to do, anxiety and guilt free.

Rule Two: You could do whatever you wanted, except for have relationships with classmates. No sex, no dating. If they were on the same course roster as you, they were off limits.

Easy enough, right?

...Right?

Viktor x Female!Reader - 18+

A.N. Yay! Ch 3 is finally done! I pay Rugby and practice started up this week, which is a big reason this wasn't done a little bit sooner. But thank you to everyone for bearing with me and thank you SO MUCH for the support. I've received so many kind comments and messages, I'm so happy that I decided to actually finish and post this instead of letting it it in my google drive. Chapter 4 is coming, I'm not gonna promise when, but its on the way.

At the request of at least one person, I'm going to start a tag list in the replies of each chapter, lmk if you want to be added to that!

ALSO. Someone sent in a request and I am very excited about this. I wasn't planning on asking for requests, but I think it would be good for me to use those as a brain break from the main long form story. So if anyone is interested, feel free to send one shot or head canon requests my way! NSFW or SFW is fine! If you have questions, send an ask :) Anyways, I'll shut up now. Enjoy <3

Read on AO3

Waking up on Saturday was…difficult, to say the least.  After spending the summer mostly sober, save for the occasional drink with your dad or joint by yourself, your body was not prepared for the previous night's substance intake. You felt grimy when you came to in your bed. Your skin sticky from sweat, your mouth dryer than all hell, and your brain felt like it had been shaken in a jar. Laying there, face in your pillow, the pros and cons of climbing out of bed tumbled around your head.

You decided that if it was before noon, you’d allow yourself a few more hours of sleep, otherwise you had to get up. Blindly you stuck a hand onto the counter at the head of your bed, knocking things left out from last night around until you found your phone. The bright screen made your temple pulse when you clicked it on.

12:01.

You dropped your head and groaned into the pillow. A deal was a deal, though, even with yourself. You gave yourself grace as you sat up in bed, looking around your tiny double dorm room. Bright light shone around the edge of the blinds, making you squint. Clothes were still scattered around your side, your hightops dropped haphazardly on the floor, not far from your shorts. You had barely managed to piss, brush your teeth, and put on clean underwear before knocking out last night. You could still feel what little makeup you had on last night smeared around your eyes. All of your pre-made plans to hydrate and clean up before going to bed were abandoned as soon as you set foot into your room. 

Lest on the other hand, looked like a princess in her bed. Washed hair in two braids, fresh pjs on, and her trusty sleep mask covering her eyes. She even layed like a princess, flat on her back with her hands folded on her stomach. You envied her discipline for hygiene even when drunk. 

You slid out of bed. Bracing yourself on the frame with a groan when your stomach flipped. Lest didn’t even flinch, she slept both like a princess and a log. You left on the clothes you slept in, wrapped a towel around your waist, and gathered your shower bag. First order of business was to clean up, because even one more minute of feeling like you were covered in a film of alcohol and smoke and you were gonna peel your skin off. 

The shared hallway was aggressively bright, but fortunately empty. You were sure you couldn’t handle an awkward ‘on the way to the shower’ run in with a hallmate right now. You’d probably throw up on the carpet. Luckily on a well weathered first Saturday of the semester, the hall was virtually abandoned. Which also meant that the only single user bathroom on your side of the building was free.

You leaned heavily against the closed door, eyes screwed shut as you fought back the wave of nausea that came with your short walk. With your eyes closed you found the automatic light switch, pushing the button to shut the lights down. The frosted window let in just enough light to see without burning your eyes out. You hung up your things and started the shower, knowing it would take a while for it to warm up. 

You took that time to brush your teeth, sick of the grit that lined your mouth. When you saw yourself in the mirror you couldn't help but to cringe. You were a wreck. The makeup around your eyes was worse than you imagined, smeared completely around your eyes in an intense racoon mask. Your hair was half out of the scrunchie you had pulled it into on the way home, hanging awkwardly on your neck. As you brushed your teeth, you tilted your head at the borrowed shirt realizing something off about it. You frowned at it in the mirror, trying to make out what the writing said. Whatever it was, it wasn’t Metallica. You spit in the sink and set your toothbrush to the side before pulling the shirt over your head. It didn’t say Metallica, it said Mozart in the Metallica font. 

You snorted a laugh, “Jayce, what the fuck?” Folding the shirt up, you shoved it into your bag, hoping you'd remember to wash it with your laundry. When you caught a glimpse of your bare torso in the mirror, you froze. 

Memories of last night came flooding back as you stared at the red marks scattered across your body. An unsteady line of hickeys connected one hip bone to the other,  a few were splayed up across your stomach and in a cluster across your chest. There was even one framed by a perfect bite mark on the top of your shoulder. 

“God damn…” You muttered, turning in the mirror in search of more. While you didn’t find any more hickeys sucked into your skin, you did find thin bruises on the sides of both your thighs from his fingers digging into your flesh. 

You stepped closer to the mirror, ghosting your fingertips over the marks. You couldn’t help but shudder at the memory of his hands on you. You could still feel him against you, his lips, his tongue, his teeth. You gripped the edge of the sink, willing the thoughts away. It was a hookup with a stranger who’s name wasn’t even known to you. It wasn’t going to happen again. 

Despite that fact, you thought of him in the shower until the water ran cold.

-----

Lest was awake when you made it back to your room. In the time it took you to shower she had managed to get dressed, make both herself and you coffee and frozen breakfast sandwiches, clean up your side of the room, and get the first season of Love Island up on your TV. She was stirring creamer into her coffee when you came in.

“Goodmorning,” You said, locking your door behind you, “How long have you been up?”

“Like, 45 minutes,” She said, setting the creamer to the side for you, “Were you in the shower that whole time?”

“Er, yeah, sorry. I wanted to shave,” You lied, a little surprised at how long you had actually been gone. You hoped Lest wouldn’t notice that you definitely had not shaved.

You dressed quickly. You and Lest had never been shy about changing in front of each other, but right now you had yourself angled awkwardly against your closet, praying to god she didn’t catch a glimpse of the love bites you were sporting. Luckily you managed to pull on a tshirt and sweats without her noticing. It’s not like you needed to hide from her, you usually told her everything as soon as it happened, but this time you wanted to keep it to yourself. At least for a little bit. You knew she’d have something, probably valid, to say about the complete unknown of the man you had sex with. She’d scold you on how dangerous it was and drag you to the health center to get tested for an STD.

“How’re you feeling?” She asked as you made up your coffee.

“A little like I was hit by a truck,” You shrugged, putting the cream away in your tiny fridge, “But I’ve definitely felt worse. You?”

“Better than I thought I would,” Lest told you, starting the show, “I didn’t drink much towards the end, and I didn’t smoke at all so I guess it makes sense.”

“You’re lucky,” You joked, climbing into bed with your coffee and breakfast, “We’re still doing nothing today right?”

“Oh, for sure.” Lest said nodding with wide eyes, “This is probably the last weekend we’ll be able to actually push homework off. Everything can wait until tomorrow.”

“Works for me,” You nodded, sipping your coffee and tuning into the trashy reality show you and Lest were hooked on.

You realized pretty quickly that all the gorgeous men and women and unhealthy relationships in the world wouldn’t distract you enough. You had figured post your incredibly long shower you’d be free of Pretty Boy, that the memory of him would ebb away. No luck.

By the time Micheal had been cast out of the Villa, you had managed to replay last night's events a hundred times in your head. It wasn’t just the sex that you were hyper focused on, it was every second you were near him. You kept thinking about how he looked in the kitchen, the way the lights moved over his skin and hair. The fact that even in the dark his eyes were still so bright and warm. You could hear  the lilt of his accent in your head, all the words he said to you, all the things he called you. 

What really stuck with you was how soft it all had been. How gentle and kind he had been with you. The way his voice sounded when he asked if you were leaving. How much you wished you had said no. This was going to haunt you for at least a week, you knew it would. You were preparing for it to be a very hard and very unfocused week.

Lest called you out a few times during the lazy afternoon, questioning your mental absence from the shared room. You brushed her off with excuses of exhaustion and nausea. You could tell she was worried, but you couldn’t bring yourself to tell her. Eventually, not many hours after waking up, you let yourself fall asleep to the thought of his lips on yours.

-------

On Sunday you woke up well before the sun, thanks to your early bedtime. You stared up at the ceiling, willing yourself back to sleep, but as your room slowly turned from pitch black into grey tones you knew it wasn’t going to happen. Quietly you pulled yourself out of bed and got ready for the day. It was barely even six by the time you were finished getting ready, but you were restless. Scribbling a note for Lest, you left your dorm. 

There was a time when you’d go on a walk before the sun was fully up every morning. It was when you enjoyed campus the most. The cold and quiet of it was comforting, it felt like home. Almost completely deserted at this hour. The only souls you ever saw this early were the landscapers, perfecting the small campus before the day began, and the occasional early rising professor walking a beloved campus dog. On a Sunday, though, it was truly empty. 

You wandered without really knowing where you were going, you let your feet remember the familiar path they once took so frequently. The sun barely peeked over the line of trees and brick buildings, casting long shadows over the quad. Dew grayed the grass, evaporating where the sun touched it. Eventually you reached the flower garden nestled between the two original buildings of the campus. You settled on a cold stone bench, the dedication plaque so worn it was nearly unreadable. 

You looked around the garden. The variety of flowers were in full bloom as the summer came to a close, each one tended to with great care. It was a sacred place on campus, for everyone. It was where most students had been introduced to the school, the garden being the meeting spot for all campus tours. During both matriculation and graduation, students paraded through it. The flowers were both a beautiful welcome and a bittersweet goodbye to those who chose Piltover for their education. It was impossible not to love it.

You sighed and picked at a patch of lichen on the edge of the bench. Remembering what else you used to do on these early walks, another habit you regretfully fell out of. You dragged your knees up to your chest and pulled your phone from your hoodie pocket. Your fingers were on autopilot as they navigated to your contacts.

It rang only once.

“Good morning Buddy,” Your dad’s voice was warming even through the phone.

“Good morning,” You said, leaning your cheek against your knee, “How are you?”

“I’m good, just getting ready to head out on the boat,” You could hear him shuffling around as he spoke. You could picture him, preparing for the day in the kitchen, “How are you? You’re up pretty early.”

“Working on a Sunday? That’s unlike you,” You joked, it was actually very like him, “I fell asleep early last night, couldn't go back to bed.”

“No, actually, not working today,” You heard the front door of your house open and close, “I’m headed out with the guys. The weathers going to be good for some deep fishing, today.”

“Oh good, that’ll be nice. I hope the catch is good,” You were glad he was taking time for himself, “Send me pictures if you get anything cool.”

“Of course buddy,” He laughed, you heard his truck start up, “Wait, so you went to bed early on a Saturday night? When did you become so boring?”

You scoffed, “Excuse me, are you mad that I am a responsible adult?”

“That’s not what I said!” He assured you.

“Yeah sure,” You rolled your eyes but smiled anyways, “Besides, it was friday night that I was out until three in the morning, rest assured I am certainly not boring.”

“Hm, okay,” He was quiet for a moment, “You’re making good decisions, I hope? Staying safe.”

You groaned at the implications of his words, embarrassed that they weren't actually that far off. He didn’t need to know that, though.

“Yes Dad, I am making perfectly fine decisions,” You half lied to him.

“Good to know. I’m too young to be a grandfather.”

“Ew,” You fake gagged, “Don’t say stuff like that.”

He laughed on the other end. It had been a week and a half since you saw him last, but you already missed the sound of him laughing, “How was your first week of classes?”

“Good,” You told him, “So far at least. I mean, it's the first week and I already have a good amount of homework to do, which sucks, but I think I can handle it.”

“Yeah, you’ve got this, though,” He assured you, never not confident in your abilities, “You always do. What classes are you taking again?”

“I have two envi-sci classes right now, one with a lab, a chemistry class with a lab, and I’m taking an Asian American Lit class, to keep myself from going crazy in the science building.” You told him, thinking about your particularly heavy science schedule, “I’m trying to switch chemistry classes, though. There's a smaller class with a…better professor. Not that my current professor is bad, it’s just that Heimerdinger is, like, the best professor here. I’d like to take at least one class with him. I’m on the waiting list.”

“Sounds like a good schedule. I’m glad you're taking a non-science class, it’ll be good for your brain,” He told you, “And I’ll cross my fingers you get into that class you want.”

“Thanks, I appreciate it.” You laughed, at this point you didn’t have much hope for getting in, but you could always try next semester.

“Hey, has your mom talked to you?” The question made you groan. 

“No, why?” You didn’t particularly want to talk to her, not since her 2nd remarriage last summer. 

“She called the other day and asked if she could have you for Christmas this year?” He was treading carefully, “I think you should.”

‘What? No way,” You answered immediately, offended at the idea that you would want to do that, “First of all, I’m not 15 anymore, neither of you get to have me, I can decide where I want to go for breaks. And second, Why would I want to spend break in Arizona with her child groom and his infant children?”

He was, clearly, not a child groom. Paul was 35, but in comparison to your mother’s age- 45- he might as well be a teenager. His kids weren’t infants either, 9 & 14, but, again, they might as well have been. 

“Hey, I know, I trust you to make your own decisions, but I also know that you’ve developed a lot of anger recently with your mom,” He sighed, “I don’t want you to have a bad relationship with her your whole life, it’s not healthy.”

“Really milking those two years of psychology undergrad, huh,” You joked bitterly. Your dad would have been the best therapist in the world if he had finished school. Your surprise arrival put an end to that half dream instantly. He never resented you for it. 

“I’m serious, buddy,” His voice was calm, urging you to be open, “It wouldn’t have to be for the whole break, just a couple days around Christmas. If you want to spend the rest of the time here with me you can, obviously. Just think about it?”

“Fine…I’ll think about it,” You pouted, he could convince you of anything, “But no promises.”

“Thank you, sorry for springing this on you right now.” You could hear chatter somewhere behind him, he was probably at the docks by now.

“It’s okay, sorry for being a brat about it,” You laughed softly.

“You’d be nothing without your attitude,” He teased, in the background you could hear someone calling his name.

“I get it from you,” That wasn’t entirely true, you and him both knew it, “But hey, I’ll let you go, sounds like you’re needed.”

“Yeah, the guys just showed up,” He admitted, “I can tell them to wait for a bit though if you want to keep talking?”

“Nah, it’s okay,” You insisted, checking the time, “I should probably go, anyways. Me and Lest are gonna go work on homework in a bit.”

“Okay, no problem,” He told you, you wished you could talk to him all day, you wished you were going fishing with him, “I’m proud of you, buddy, and I love you so much.”

“Love you too, Dad,” You said, trying to hold back tears, “Have fun out there, be safe.”

“Always am. Tell Lest I say hello for me, Love you.” He let you hang up the phone. 

You wrapped your arms around your legs and buried your head in your knees, unable to hold back the sobs. You let yourself cry. You didn’t think this was how you’d start your morning, but it was fine. Almost cathartic in a way, to let yourself be sad about something as childish as missing your dad who was only a day. You knew it was fine and very normal, but it still felt immature. Regardless, you let yourself cry until Lest finally texted you.

-------

The rest of the day was just as unexpected. When you headed back to your dorm Lest had just started to get ready. You laid in your bed, scrolling through your phone until she was ready. In the hour or so it took her to shower, get dressed, and gather her school work, the weather took a drastic change. You had wanted to lay out on the quad and do work, but the soft sunny sky was full of clouds now, all threatening rain. Instead, you and Lest headed to the small coffee shop on campus. Here it was much harder to focus. You camped out at a table in the corner, despite this everyone who knew you or her came over to chat. Meaning the amount of work you finished was…disappointing, to say the least. 

Then, due to the cafe's short Sunday hours, you had to relocate once again. At the overly polite requests of the baristas, you packed up and hauled off to the library. You wished you had come here in the first place. It was pretty much vacant this time of day and you and Lest set up in the quiet section, assuring no one would bother you even if they wanted to. Workflow was steady now, you managed to knock out one assignment after another. In the quiet of the library you were even able to focus on your textbook readings enough to take notes. 

As the afternoon began to turn to evening and the library began to fill up, you were finally in the home stretch. Lest was on her last set of practice questions for her math class and you had one more reading and a chemistry practice test to do. You’d probably be back to your room within the hour. You opened up the practice test, determined to get everything done. 

It was harder than you had expected. Some of the questions were fairly basic, things you knew from level one and even highschool chemistry, and there were a few that took a little effort but were fresh in your head from last semester. Almost half the questions, though, were questions that were completely foreign to you. You could make out bits and pieces of it in your brain. Some questions gently touched by your previous professors and others that you could make shaky assumptions on. You tried to remind yourself that this was a practice test for a reason, but the shitty score you knew would show at the end still bothered you. In the end you got 65%. 

You opened up your email to check for submission confirmation before moving on to the reading. A recent message at the top of the box made you pause. You read it quickly once, twice, three times. 

“I’m off the waitlist,” You told Lest, flinching when someone at a nearby table shushed you.

“What?” She whispered, leaning closer to see your laptop.

“I’m off the waitlist for chem,” You whispered back, opening up the class portal and accepting the offer.

“I thought you were in a chem class already?” She raised an eyebrow at you.

“Yeah, but I got into the class with the professor I actually want,” You explained, wishing you could be more excited than the setting allowed. 

“Oh, that's…good,” You could tell she didn’t quite get it, but wanted to be happy for you anyways.

“Yes, it’s very good,” You laughed, pushing your chair away from the table, “and as a reward, I’m gonna go piss.”

“Babe, please don’t give yourself a UTI because you only pee after academic success,” Lest jokingly begged, rubbing the space between her eyebrows.

You couldn’t hold back a laugh as you walked away from the table, ignoring the dirty looks from other tables. You were thrilled, a class with Heimerdinger genuinely opened up a world of connections. He knew scientists in every field all over the world. Of course, as the dean of the science department, he was willing to help any student make connections, but it was definitely easier if you were in his class. You were so happy about this, you didn’t mind that the practice test you just spent an hour on was for a class you were about to drop. 

You pulled out your phone, shooting off a text to your dad.

Got into the class I wanted! Thx 4 crossing ur fingers

He responded immediately.

Yay… that’s great, happy for you… wanna see the catch today?

You shook your head at the ellipses habit he refused to break. Such an old man.

TY!!! Yes obvi. Fish Now. 

He sent back a photo of himself and one of the older guys he fished with holding an impressively sized mahi mahi.

Omg mahi this late in the szn is craaazzyyy, very jealous

You couldn’t help the pang of sadness that bloomed in your chest. Missing your dad intensely for the second time that day.

Yeah, me and the guys were surprised for sure…I got go, talk to you later?

Oki!

Love you Buddy

Love u toooo

You slammed into someone in your distraction as you hit send. The apology coming out of your mouth only made it halfway, your mind and body freezing up at the flash of chestnut hair and pale skin above you. 

“Woah, watch it.” The guy, who you realized a second later was not in fact Pretty Boy, snapped at you.

“Sorry,” Your voice came out like a squeak, you cleared your throat, speaking louder, “Sorry, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, it’s…uh it’s fine,” Not Pretty Boy said, looking down at you oddly, “Are you okay?”

You realized you were staring at him, studying all the ways in which he wasn’t Pretty Boy. Too stocky, face too round, hair too long, eyes a dull green. 

“Uh, yeah. I’m fine, sorry,” You shook your head, stepping past him as you apologized again.

You hurried off to the restroom, face burning as you locked yourself into a stall. You had managed to keep him out of your head all day. You dressed without looking at the marks he left behind, you kept your mind busy with work and thoughts of your family situation, you barely even acknowledged the fact that you had a body. 

And now after all that work, here you were, unable to think about anything besides him. You groaned and thumped your head against the stall door, knowing he’d be inescapable for the rest of the night. 

You stared at your hand on your leg, fingers digging into the bruises under your jeans. You had set your book down for the hundredth time, barely halfway through the reading, distracted again.  Every time you tried to read the words on the page, you wouldn’t get far. Unable to process any of the information you were looking at. It all felt like a different language. You could feel his hands pressing into your legs, his lips on your neck, accent in your ears.

Something hitting your forehead made you jump, startling you out of the daydream.

“Earth to struggling student,” Lest whispered, crumpling another sticky note and launching it at you.

You swatted the yellow paper away, frowning at her, “What?”

“Girl, where have you been this weekend?” Lest hissed, leaning across the table, eyebrows furrowed, “You’ve been weird ever since Jayce’s party. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” You shrugged.

“Okay, liar,” She deadpanned, rolling her eyes, “What’s up?”

“Nothing!” You insisted, rifling the pages of your book. 

She stared at you, blink her big eyes expectantly. At this point, she wasn’t going to give up.

“I hooked up with someone at the party” You muttered, not looking at her.

“What?” She gasped, ignoring the looks from other tables. She stood and took the seat next to you, pulling her chair close and leaning in, “When?”

“When I went to wash my top in the garage,” You told her, chewing on your lip, “I wasn’t exactly smoking alone,”

“Oh my god!” She squeaked, eyes wide, “You fucked someone in Jayce and Cait’s garage??”

“Shhh,” You placed a palm over her mouth, worried about wandering ears, “Be quiet, I don’t need the whole student body to know.”

She just blinked at you over the top of your hand, waiting.

“Yeah, in the garage,” You could feel your face getting hot.

“Did you guys… like, get a home run? Or only make it to 3rd base?” She raised an eyebrow.

“What are you? 12?” You scoffed, glancing sideways as you told her, “...home run.”

“Good girl!” She punched you lightly on the arm, “Wait, that’s why you’ve been so spacy? You’ve been thinking about your little garage escapade all weekend?”

“Lest, you don't get it,” You insisted, “It was, like, amazing. Quite possibly the best sex I have ever had in my entire life. Like, honeymoon waited until marriage but somehow still perfect at it kind of sex.”

“No way,”

“Yes way, bitch,” You said, raising your eyebrows at her, “yes fucking way.”

“Damn…” She stared down at the table, then quirked her head to the side, “Who?”

There it was, the reason you hadn’t told her as soon as it happened.

“Um, well…” You hesitated. Lest narrowed her eyes at you, you could see her mind scrolling the list of possibilities. You cringed, “I don’t exactly know.”

Lest gaped at you, “What?”

“We were both high,” You admitted sheepishly, “And kind of caught up with other things. Names didn’t come up.”

“Are you crazy?”

“He was nice!” You defended, “Like, so fucking nice.”

“That is so dangerous!” She scolded, more concerned than mad, “Did you use a condom?”

“Christ, Lest, of course,” You rolled your eyes, “I’m not dumb.”

“I know, but you said you were high,” She shrugged, “Just wanted to make sure I didn’t need to find a way to squeeze a crib into our dorm.” 

“Twenties pregnancy is no joke,” You told Lest, trying to hold your face straight as long as you could before the corners of your mouth cracked upwards. 

“Damn, so great sex guy is anonymous,” She sighed, “That’s kind of a bummer. He goes here right?”

“He said he did,” You told her, “That’d be an odd thing to lie about, right?”

“Yeah, well, maybe you’ll see him at another party?” She said, hopeful.

“Yeah, maybe,” You sighed, “I don’t know, it was so good I almost don’t want to do it again.”

“That makes zero sense,” she scrunched her nose.

“I mean, I fucked this guy once for, like, an hour.” You explained, “And he is all I’ve been able to think about for the past two days. Do I really want to do this again?”

“Well, if you make it a habit,” She offered.

“I don’t know,” You sighed, shaking your head, “It sucks, but I think it’s better if it doesn't happen again. I don’t think my grades could handle it.” You waved the book you had tried and failed to read for the past hour. 

“Skill issue.” She shrugged, shutting her laptop, “Do you have to finish that reading tonight? I wanna get dinner.”

“Uh, thanks Lest, very cool,” You scoffed, rolling your eyes at her joke, “And I’m not going to be able to anyways. I’ll finish it before class tomorrow.”

“Okay good,” Lest said, standing and stretching her arms over her head, “I’ll get us Thai if you promise details.”

“Hm, you know, I’m not against trading my secrets for pad thai and mango rice,” You laughed, packing your stuff up.

Clasping her hands together she determined, “This is, like, better than Love Island.” 

You just scoffed, shaking your head at her.

-------

As thrilled as you were to be taking Heimerdinger's class, there was one tiny drawback. It was your first and only seven am. You had managed four whole semesters of not having to be in a class until at least nine. That was very much on purpose, because dragging yourself out of bed at five in the morning was not your idea of a good start to the day. 

As much as you wanted to skip past your first alarm and show up to class unshowered and in sweatpants, you figured that wasn’t the most professional first impression to make on the dean. So you got up like a good student. You took your time getting ready and double checking that you had everything you’d need for your two classes of the day, preferring to not haul back to the dorm between them. You had correctly calculated enough time to stop at the cafe on the way to grab coffee with a higher caffeine content than what you could make in your room. 

There were quite a few seven am classes available, but given that you were over 30 minutes early, the halls of the science building were still fairly deserted. A few offices were lit up and some classrooms had TAs setting up for the day, but not much student presence yet. When you found the room the schedule had directed you to, you were pleased to see it was empty. It’d be easier to talk to who you considered the most intimidating professor on campus without an audience.

The classroom was small, but you knew the lab attached through a door at the back would be much bigger. Professor Heimerdinger was sitting behind the desk at the front, fidgeting with the desktop computer. You knocked on the doorframe to get his attention.

“Good morning Professor Heimerdinger,” You greeted, stepping partially into the room as you told him your name, “I was on the waitlist until last night, I wasn’t sure if they told you I had moved off of it.”

“Oh! Good morning, dear,” He beamed from under his impressively large mustache, moving away from the computer, “Yes, it was mentioned that there may be a change in the roster. I’m glad you were able to move up from the waitlist. Welcome.”

“Thank you,” You smiled, you had never been in the same room as the esteemed man, only ever seen him give speeches or in passing around campus, you walked over to his desk, “I’m also glad to be here, I’ve been looking forward to taking one of your classes. I’ve heard great things.”

“That’s very kind of you to say,” He walked around his desk and extended a hand up towards you. Due to his short stature you had to bend just slightly at the waist to return the gesture, “I’m glad to have you in class, your name is familiar. Are you acquaintances with Mr. Jayce Talis, by chance?”

You knew Jayce had been lucky enough to score Heimerdinger as his advisor and close mentor, you were surprised he had mentioned you, though.

“Yes, actually, Jayce is a very close friend of mine,” You told him, trying to hide a nervous laugh, “Has he been speaking of me?”

“Only good things, my dear,” He said, picking up on your anxiety, “I assure you.”

“Good to know,” You laugh, hoping it wasn’t too loud in the small space, “Thank you, again, I am really grateful for the opportunity to be in your class.”

“Well of course,” He told you, moving back around his desk as he spoke, “Have you been able to acquire the reading materials for the class?”

“I ordered the textbook last night,” You explained, “I should have it by the end of the week. I’m sure I can borrow a copy from a classmate for the time being.”

“No need, I have an extra copy you are welcome to use until yours arrives,” He pulled a dense book from under his desk, “It’s an earlier edition, though, so just be sure that you read the correct sections.”

“Thank you, I appreciate it,” You took the worn book, he also handed you a printed syllabus, “Was there reading for today? I could try to get some of it done before class starts.”

“Last week’s schedule became a little jumbled due to my being under the weather, so the first reading is due next class, if you would like to review the syllabus and schedule before class, you will be all caught up,” He explained. You couldn’t describe the relief this gave you, “We only met for one class last week, so you aren’t behind, but the class has already been divided into groups for the semester. I apologize that you were not here for the grouping. I allow students to choose who they work with, so if you see someone you know feel free to join their group.”

“Okay, thank you.” You nodded and turned to find a seat.

As Heimerdinger returned back to his computer, you set up in the corner of the room. The syllabus was fairly basic, but gave a good explanation of the Professor’s expectations. You were sure this wasn’t going to be an easy class, but you were also sure you’d enjoy the challenge. The only thing that was making you anxious was the fact that  none of the students that showed up were familiar to you. You watched as the clock ticked closer and closer to seven, your knee bouncing under the table. You tried to distract yourself by skimming through the borrowed textbook, settling on a random section to pass the time with.

You were halfway through the chapter about asymmetric oxidation and reduction when a newer copy of the book was dropped on the table in front of you with a bang. You jumped, looking up in surprise.

“Hey stranger,” Jinx smirked down at you, nodding at your book,“Pretty impressive reading pace you’ve got there.”

“Jinx!” You stood, wrapping your arms around her, “I didn’t know you were in this class.”

“Ekko is too, he’ll be here in a minute,” She told you as you settled into your seats, the room was busy now, “Were you on the waitlist?”

“Yeah, this class was a bitch to get into,” You frowned, then realized something, “Wait, how did you get in? You’re a sophomore this year right? This is an upperclassmen class.”

She laughed sheepishly, shrugging, “Ha, well you know, nepotism isn't always bad.”

“No way, Silco got you in? You lucky bitch,” You gasped, but were not surprised that her dad, who happened to be a well respected professor in the business program, had managed to get her into a higher level class. 

“Yeah, and Ekko,” She pulled the rest of her things from her bag, blowing a strand of freshly dyed blue hair out of her face, “You should have told me, I could have gotten you in, too.”

“Sorry, friend nepotism didn’t cross my mind,” You laughed, waving at Ekko as he walked into the room, “I’ll keep it in mind for next time, though.”

“Always got your back, babe,” Jinx gave an over exaggerated smile, all teeth.

Ekko slid into the seat next to Jinx, setting a coffee cup down in front of her, “Hey, where were you last week?” He laughed, extended a fist out for you to bump.

“Still on the waitlist,” You laughed, pulling out your things as other students began to settle into their seats.

“Glad you're here,” He told you, “You wanna be part of our group right?”

“Yes please,” You said with exaggerated begging,“I was worried I’d have to join people I didn’t know.”

“Yeah, there’s a reason I drag him into every class I take,” Jinx laughed, jerking her thumb over to Ekko.

“Yeah, I’m sure the fact that I always give you my notes has nothing to do with it,” He raised an eyebrow at her.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” She stuck her nose up in the air, giving him a side eye.

You couldn’t help but to laugh at them, their large personalities combined to make one big ball of loud and colorful and smart. You had spent a lot of your free time during your summer research with them. Jinx had convinced you to join their little band and you three terrorized the others with very loud and not so great music playing. You were excited to be in class with them. Looking around, though, you noticed that all the other groups consisted of at least three people, some of them even holding five. 

“Are you guys a group of two?” You tilted your head, it would be odd for the Professor to let them do that in a class that seemed to be very group focused.

“What? Oh, no there’s three of us,” Ekko told you, “I don’t know if you’ve met him yet. It’s Jayce’s new roommate, Viktor. I don’t know why he isn’t here yet.”

You laughed, part of you still wondering if this was some insane joke that everyone was really really dedicated to, “Haven't met him, yet, but I’ve heard of him plenty of times.”

“Wasn’t he at the party on Friday?” Jinx asked, “He said Jayce had convinced him to go.”

“Jayce kept saying he was there, but I never ran into him,” You shrugged, “I’m still not convinced he’s real.”

“Yeah, you got us,” Jinx said, dead serious, “He isn’t real.”

“Wait what?” You side eyed her.

“Also we wrote gullible on the ceiling,” She rolled her eyes, you resisted the urge to look up, “Viktor is very real, I promise. He’s super smart too, like, almost as smart as me.”

“Always humble, babe,” Ekko said, patting Jinx on the arm, “Always humble.”

Class began then, Heimerdinger calling everyone's attention to the front of the room. You settled into the flow of it pretty quickly. You weren’t surprised that he managed to be an engaging professor. You’d sat through plenty of his speeches and presentations over the past two years, and never for a second did you find yourself bored during them. He gave a quick overview of what the next couple of weeks were going to look like and then passed around paper practice tests. You were a little disappointed to have to do another one.

This test ended up being somewhat easier than the one you had taken last night, only a few of the questions really escaped you. You could tell this was a test meant to gauge how much the class knew as opposed to how much they didn’t. You had just flipped to the last page when the door to the classroom opened. As much as you wanted to keep your eyes down and not contribute to the awkward stares you were sure everyone was already giving, instinct kicked in and you couldn't help but to glance up.

You froze.

There was no way.

This was not happening. 

You blinked a few times, mouth hanging open as you watched Pretty Boy lean over Heimerdinger's desk, speaking too quiet for you to hear with an apology written all over his face. Your heart dropped all the way down to the center of the earth, your lungs dried out and you felt like your head was under waves.

When Pretty Boy turned around, his perfect amber eyes immediately landed on yours. Freezing, his eyes widened slightly in an expression you were sure was identical to yours. Poorly hidden horror. You looked away, eyes dropping to your paper, the grip around your pencil was tight enough to turn your knuckles white. You could hear him walking straight for your table, cane tapping along with his footsteps.

You furrowed your eyebrows at the table. Why was he coming this way? There were plenty of other seats. Was now the time to confront you? In the quietest classroom imaginable. He slid into the seat next to you.

“Hey Viktor,” Jinx whispered, glancing up before going back to her test.

Viktor. He was Viktor. Pretty Boy was the roommate you were convinced didn’t exist. The one you had just told Jinx you had never met. The reality that you had, in fact, met him very intimately was crashing down around you. You raced back through your memory, all the little dots that you should have connected immediately snapped together. The music he was listening to, the smoking, that he was even in the garage in the first place, the reason you hadn’t recognized him despite being in your year, the fact that you never saw him leave the house. 

He fucking lived there. He was Jayce’s roommate. You had fucked Jayce’s roommate. 

You could feel his eyes on the side of your face as these thoughts ran through your head. You looked up at him, his closeness making you dizzy, but not in a pleasant way like last time. His face was nearly blank, only the slightest pull to his eyebrows that didn’t  give away any of his thoughts. You had never felt the desire to know what someone else was thinking, not really, not until this very moment. 

Not knowing what to do, you let out a shaky breath and went back to your paper. The room was too quiet to speak to him, you could do nothing but endure the remaining time it took for everyone to finish their tests and hope you didn’t faint.

You were keenly aware of his presence next to you. Everything was taken up by Pretty Boy. By Viktor. You could feel the heat of his leg close to yours, you could smell the cologne he was wearing. The scratching of his pen as he started the test was the only sound you could hear. You felt like you were going crazy. At this moment you were sure you could have been committed to a state hospital. The words on the page blurred in front of you. You scribbled out incorrect equations a dozen times before Hiemerdinger finally concluded that everyone was done. 

“I will review these and adjust our scheduled content accordingly,” He told the class as the tests were passed forward, “As an unplanned reward for enduring my data collection, please talk amongst yourselves while I battle with technology. I will begin today’s lesson as soon as possible.”

“Nice,” Jinx said to herself as chatter started up in the classroom, she turned to Pret- to Viktor, “Dude, where were you?”

“Sorry, I was stuck behind a school bus,” He told her, his accent was less thick than you remember, “it wasn’t a problem last week, I wasn’t prepared.”

“Oh, yeah, school just started this week for little kids,” She nodded, she was lost in thought for a moment, no doubt thinking about picking up Isha from school later. She snapped back to the present and told him your name, “She’s part of the larger group, I’m surprised you haven't met yet.”

His eyes met yours and when he said your name, you could have melted all the way to the ground floor, “It’s nice to meet you, are you…joining our group?”

It took you a moment to realize he was holding a hand out to you. You shook it, trying to be as firm as you could, but you knew your hands were shaking. 

“Nice to meet you, too, ” You said, “Um, I can find another group if you-”

“No,” He said, too quickly, “No, that’s not necessary, I’m glad to have you work with us.”

You did your best not to read into that, “Glad to be here.”

“Heimerdinger wanted us to schedule an out of class work time,” Ekko told you, drawing your attention away from Viktor’s face, “We were thinking Friday’s right after class, since we won’t have lab.”

“That works for me,” You nodded, trying to settle into your chair and be casual.

“Cool, I’ll send a calendar invite,” He said, always the proactive one.

“You are friends with Jayce?” Viktor asked, tilting his head at you.

“Yep,” You nodded awkwardly, unsure how to talk to him, “Since freshman year,”

“Hm, interesting.” He mused. 

You hated this. It was so uncomfortable and not at all like the last time you had spoken to him. Even aside from the fact that you weren’t fucking, the few words said were clunky and awkward. You were realizing that the drugs and alcohol you had consumed might have had something to do with the ease of conversation. It made you sad. You knew this was stupid. You knew you were being childish. You were an adult, sex shouldn’t be the cause of this unbearable awkwardness. You should be able to talk to someone you hooked up with, without being on the verge of a panic attack. Luckily, Heimerdinger’s technical difficulties came to an end. He drew back everyone's attention and put a halt to your terrible conversation. You turned away from Viktor, facing the front as the intro to advanced ochem lecture began. 

The rest of class, thankfully, went smoother than you expected. Your group fell into a good rhythm, working together between bouts of notes to work on practice problems. Viktor was less tense, which let you relax a degree. He was more than willing to help you navigate your textbook, looking over your shoulder to check that you were on the right section. He even helped you find the reading for next class, tearing a piece of paper from his notebook and placing it in the pages. There wasn’t a lab planned for the day, so Heimerdinger continued his lecture well into the scheduled lab time. By the end of the four hours, you had written down almost ten pages of notes. Your hands ached.

“Apologies for the lecture heavy class, everyone. Having to cancel our first class last week meant I needed to catch everyone up” Heimerdinger said as he closed out the presentation, “I promise from here on we will utilize the last two hours as lab time. Have a good rest of your day everyone, I will see you on Wednesday.”

You scooped your things into your bag and slung it over your shoulder, “I’ve gotta get to another class, see ya around.”

You darted out of the door before anyone could reply. Your head was filled with too many thoughts. You took the stairs down, doing your best to organize the mess in your brain. You created a list. First, the things you needed to do, right now. Finish the reading for Asian American Lit, number one. Number two, go to your Asian American Lit class. Then, the things that could wait until after. Telling Lest about Viktor/Pretty Boy dilemma. Though, she would be mad that you didn’t call her at that very moment. Asking Jinx to add you to the group chat, meaning you'd have his number. Yeah, that you could wait on. Then the things you decided could wait forever. Number one, talking to Viktor. It’s all you wanted to do. And at the same time you’d rather spontaneously combust than confront that awkward conversation. 

You were free of the overpowering AC of the science building for less than a minute before the task you decided never needed to happen, happened. Against your will, of course.

“Wait up!” Your steps faltered for a second at the sound of Viktor’s voice calling after you. You ignored him, continuing as if you hadn’t heard. He shouted your name, “I know you can hear me!”

You stopped staring at the hot sidewalk for a moment. No. You had somewhere to be, things to do. You shook your head without turning around and kept walking.

“If you take one more step, you’re ableist!” He shouted, out of breath.

You froze and turned slowly to look at him, jaw hanging open, “That is not funny.”

“Got you to stop didn’t it,” He panted, closing the distance between you, he knocked his cane against the side of your calf, “And, I do believe running from a man with a cane can be considered ableist.”

“First of all, I am not running from you,” You lied, looking up at him. You stepped a half inch to the side, using his shadow to block your eyes from the sun, “And second, if I happened to be running from you, it certainly is not because you use a mobility aid.”

“Okay Miss PC,” He rolled his eyes, “Doesn’t matter why, if I deem it ableist, it is.”

You opened your mouth to argue, floundering for what to say. You don’t remember him being this infuriating at the party.

“Exactly,” He said as you snapped your jaw closed.

“Viktor,” You sighed, “What do you want?”

He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, tilting his head at you. He gave a soft laugh, “I have been waiting all weekend to hear you say my name.”

Breathing would have been easier if he punched you. You blinked up at him, watching him watch you.

“I’m sorry, can I…” He looked around, noticing that other students were leaving the building as their classes ended. You two were standing in the dead center of the sidewalk and in the late summer heat his pale cheeks were already turning pink, “Can we just talk for a second, please?”

He didn’t wait for you to respond before he stepped off the main path and began walking into the flower garden. The dry gravel crunched under his shoes as he walked, the sound amplified in your brain as you followed after him. He settled under a latticed arch, the honeysuckle vines that snaked around it shading you both from the midday sun. 

“I’m sorry,” You said, frowning at him.

“For what?” He asked, face confused.

For running away. For not asking your name. For leaving. For joining your class.

“I don’t know.” Was all you could manage.

“You know, apologies lose a lot of their value if you don’t know what you're apologizing for,” He narrowed his eyes, voice almost scolding.

“I..I know, I’m sorry.”

“You say sorry too much,” He laughed, shaking his head, he didn’t look upset, “It’s very American of you.”

“Well, I am American,” You pointed out, letting yourself laugh softly with him, “I’m sorry for that too,” You joked.

“Well, let me apologize?” He asked, “I’m sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable in class, it truly was not my intention.”

That was an apology. A real and true apology.

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable,” You shook your head, “Fuck, if anyone had a right to feel weird, it was you.”

He tilted his head in question.

“I mean, it was your class first,” You told him, “I just kinda…showed up.”

“Did you join the class because I was in it?” 

“Well, no,” You laughed softly, “How could I have, I didn't even know your name.”

“That’s true,” He scoffed, “I regret that, by the way, I should have asked your name. Not very polite to ask after having sex with someone.”

“Eh, it happens to the best of us,” You shrugged, liking the laugh he gave you in response.

“Well, I am glad I know now,” He told you, eyes moving across his face, he smirked, “It’s a pretty name.”

“Hm, thanks, I like yours quite a lot as well,” You smiled up at him, the step closer he took didn’t go unnoticed, “It suits you, almost as much as Pretty Boy.”

“Thank you,” He smiled down at you, chewing on the inside of his cheek. 

“What?” You could tell there was something else he wanted to say.

“Can I take you out?” He asked, taking a nervous breath, “I know we kinda did this in a backwards manner, but I…you are very interesting to me, I would like to take you out properly.”

Your stomach twisted. Your chest felt like it was caving in.

“No,” You said, head shaking slightly as you offered a sad smile. The unexpected hurt that flashed in his eyes killed you.

“Oh, um,” He stumbled over his words, clearly taken aback by your refusal, he tried to step away, “Okay.”

“Hey wait,” You reached out, grabbing his wrist before you could escape, “Listen, it’s not you.”

He narrowed his eyes at you, begging you not to embarrass him any further with a cliche line.

“Really, I swear,” You urged, not letting go until he stepped back towards you, “I just… I don’t date classmates. I don’t sleep with classmates. Even if I want to. It causes problems, it makes class awkward, and I can’t risk my GPA just because I find someone attractive.”

He hummed to himself, nodding as he took in your words.

“So…” He reached out, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, the same way he did when you were straddling his lap, “You’re saying you find me attractive?”

You resisted the urge to lean into his palm, instead you grabbed his wrist and pulled his lingering hand away from your face, “Don’t do that.”

“I’m confused, you’ve already slept with me? So what does it matter?” He asked, raising an eyebrow at you. He was so fucking handsome you wanted to scream.

“Because, at the time, we weren’t classmates.” You explained like it was obvious.

“Okay, so let me get this straight, you will be in a relationship - sexual or romantic - with someone as long as they aren't an active classmate?” He asked, lip curling up in confusion, “But if they were a past classmate, or in our case, a future classmate, it's fine?”

“Exactly,” You shrugged, “I think that’s perfectly reasonable.”

“That’s actually very unreasonable.” He told you, “And also does not make much sense to me.”

“Well, good thing it’s a rule for myself.” You huffed, “You don’t have to understand, you just have to respect it.”

“So, if we were in separate classes, would you go out with me?” He asked.

“Probably, yes.” You admitted.

“But not now, because we are in the same class.”

“Yes, exactly.”

“So, if I ask you when the class is over, you’d say yes?” He leaned towards you, probing.

“Maybe.” You shrugged, “Who’s to say you won’t hate me by the end of the semester?”

“Well, considering you seem to be friends with the only people I know at this school, that would be rather unfortunate.” His voice lowered at the end, he was closer to you know. Very much within kissing distance. Right now there was nothing more you wanted than to feel his lips against yours. You know they’d be cool in comparison to the stagnant summer air.

You didn’t. Instead, you took a step back, and shoved your hand out into the distance between you, “Friends and classmates? Can you do that?” You asked, he studied your hand like the offer was written on it, then sighed.

“Fine, I can respect your rules,” He took your hand in his, firm and strong and cold, “Friends and classmates…for now.”

He moved his index finger softly across the inside of your wrist as he held your hand, goosebumps sprinting up your arm. You carried that feeling with you for the rest of the day.

[king571]

Arcane Analysis: Season 2 Episode 8 

The Symbolism behind the famous Jail Cell and how Jinx, Caitlyn and Vi “break the cycle."

Hi all, this is a long post, so thank you everyone in advance for taking the time to read this. Over the past few weeks, I have seen many well done analyses for the love scene between Caitlyn and Vi. I am not here to break down that again, but I would like to focus on the events that lead up to that and the symbolism behind Silco’s speech and the famous jail cell. 

Before I get into my humble analysis, I would like to emphasize that Arcane is an artistic piece of media that constantly makes these bold and unexpected creative decisions to communicate something deeper in its story, whether this is through character designs, their actions, animation, or the music. And symbolism is part of that. It is a storytelling device that connects characters and plot points for us to see a larger theme. Not everything in Arcane is meant to “make sense” to you in the way you expect; it’s meant to “intrigue” you, to push you to ask questions and find the answers yourself. That’s part of the process of analyzing and understanding the media. Therefore, most of the “criticisms” made for this episode do not seem constructive to me, as it destroys the essence of the artistic storytelling of this show by applying some personal logic, morals, and expectations on these characters. The love scene between Caitlyn and Vi did not “come out of nowhere.” It was thought through for the story the writers wanted to tell and well-animated. Whatever you felt about this scene personally simply does not change these facts from the professional media perspective. After that little rambling, let’s get into the real deal: 

Recap:

Although I believe the symbolisms that I am going to explore in this post may apply to the other characters of Arcane since they are the main themes of the show, I will solely focus on what they mean to Jinx, Caitlyn, and Vi. Therefore, I will only focus on the set of events that happen around these characters. 

Episode 8 kicks off with Vi waking up from her recovery and going straight to Caitlyn to confront her about Jinx. Their argument is centered around their lack of trust in each other, something that they built in season 1 and lost in the following events. Those of you who think Vi does not hold Caitlyn accountable simply need to rewatch, I do not know what to tell you. Vi lets her anger out on Caitlyn in this scene and corners her because of her alliance with Ambessa. She gets a powerful reaction from her: “I KNOW!”.

This delivery portrays Caitlyn’s anger with herself. She continues by explaining that Jinx was the one who surrendered, and Caitlyn didn’t know what to do. She was simply waiting for Vi to recover. These are the footsteps that show her growing willingness to listen and allow Vi to take the lead. Caitlyn’s response calms Vi down, and Vi shares that Jinx has changed. Caitlyn’s reply essentially says that even though Vi might be right, it doesn’t matter. What's done is done: "We can't erase our mistakes, none of us,". She includes herself in this, aware of her own faults. In contrast, Vi responds by asking, “Who decides who gets a second chance?”

This exchange is important because it illustrates their different perspectives on forgiveness. Caitlyn thinks that no matter what they do, they cannot fix their mistakes. Vi, on the other hand, believes in second chances and believes that Jinx has changed. Yes, this is such a Vi thing to believe and say. We leave the scene with Caitlyn contemplating that. Vi’s insistence on seeing the good in people she loves is important for Caitlyn to move forward.

After her conversation with Vi, Caitlyn makes her way down to face another confrontation. At this point, it's important to remember that both Jinx's and Caitlyn’s perspective on each other has shifted after episode 6. Jinx saw how Caitlyn betrayed Ambessa to help save Vander and Vi. Caitlyn saw how Jinx acted around Isha and her family. Their small reunion before the chaos ensued humanized Jinx in Caitlyn’s eyes. This is why instead of taking actions against her, she decides to wait for Vi to recover.

The way Caitlyn and Jinx address each other in this conversation shows that they see each other as equals now ("Both you and I know…") and they are aware of the destructive paths they took (No amount of good deeds can undo our crimes). They are both honest with each other. The scene ends with Caitlyn admitting to the person she has been desperately trying to catch that she hated herself for everything she did, showcasing her vulnerability, remorse, and regret. Jinx replies with the only thing she knows, that she did not know her mother was there when she attacked the council. It was not personal; it was not her intention. It is not a "sorry", but the only thing that she can share with her to make her understand the situation. The zoomed frame on Caitlyn’s ear shows me that Caitlyn does not only hear her but also listens to her with attention. This exchange is not for them to build any kind of relationship, but it is enough for them to let each other go. Caitlyn walks away and starts the process of breaking the cycle for all of them.

Now let’s get to the real stuff. 

Jinx and Silco: 

There are two important monologues in this season that really summarize the whole concept of Arcane for me. The first one is Viktor’s speech about humanity and human emotions being two sides of the same coin. And the second one will be this scene. Silco reminds us about 'the cycle of violence.' It is so interesting that there is an element of hallucination in this scene but Jinx is not manic or fully psychotic here. In fact, she is more aware than ever, which makes her suicidal thoughts more dangerous and real than ever as well. The speech that Silco gives her is both symbolic to her and symbolic to the viewers. After Caitlyn’s visit, she is stuck in her head about what is next, and it's so normal that her thoughts come to her in the shape of Silco, her adoptive father. The only person that guided her as Jinx and supported her during her path to destruction. Let’s remind ourselves of the conversation and break it down:

Silco: Oh, it's a hell of a place. It says something about the late Marcus that he found imprisoning your sister to be a greater mercy than killing her. 

Jinx: Killing isn't mercy.  

For Silco, killing and violence were always justified as long as it had a “good” cause and purpose, they were necessary for him. Jinx finally goes against that mindset that says no killing is not a merciful act. Nothing  “good” comes out of it.   

Silco chuckles: A spark of rebellion still burns inside that husk, I see. No. Killing is a cycle. One that started long before Vander and me. And it will continue long after the two of you. 

Jinx: I'm done running in circles. 

Just like Caitlyn, Jinx does not have the will or energy to keep contributing to this cycle anymore. Once again in this conversation she is turning her back to it.  

We build our own prisons. Bars forged of oaths, codes, commitments. Walls of self-doubt and accepted limitations. We inhabit these cells, these identities, and call them "us." I thought I could break free by eliminating those I deemed my jailors. But... Jinx... I think the cycle only ends when you find the will to walk away.

This is the symbolism that I will be paying attention to later. But for now, let’s look at it for Jinx. Similar to Silco, Jinx’s method of coping with her walls of trauma and self-doubt was unleashing violence on the ones who she deemed as her jailors. Vi, Caitlyn, the topside.. And after all that destruction, she gained nothing from it and all of that violence just contributed to more violence. She finally comes to the realization that in order to make a change, she has to break the cycle and walk away. 

Unfortunately, in this state of mind Jinx sees herself and her existence equal to “violence” and “destruction”. I don't think Jinx wants to die particularly, but she has been ready to die this season because she thinks she needs to.. to stop the violence and suffering, to break the cycle. There is a difference between her wanting to die and simply thinking she needs to. It is a very difficult mindset to get out of on your own. That’s why I believe Ekko’s role will be important for her later. I know that it is not confirmed whether she is alive or not at the end of the show, but if she is, this also explains why she fakes her death. She still has a will to live but she wants to remove her existence from Piltover, break the cycle, and also let Vi be happy. 

Jinx’s dialogue with Silco ends with Vi’s entrance to the scene. I love Vi, but she has never been good with connecting and understanding Jinx’s mental state (not her fault obviously). Her point about Jinx using all her potential to be good, makes Jinx realize that no matter what she does, Vi will continue to love her and see the “good” in her.

Except.. Jinx does not think there is any good in her, she knows that letting Vi stick with her will only lead her to unhappiness. Knowing that Vi cannot give up on her by herself, she locks her in the cell and tells her explicitly that she deserves to be with Caitlyn. The sisters' dynamic has been shifting this season ever since Vi saw her with Isha. Remember what Vi said to her in the mines: 'Why did you come get me? You actually don’t need my help. You haven’t for a long time.' Vi knows that Jinx is a grown up now and can take care of herself. During their time in Viktor's commute, Vi has started to see Jinx as more like an equal and asked for her input from time to time. Jinx simply knows that Vi would never leave her if she does not lock her up. 

Their dynamic flips this season from Vi being the protector of her to Jinx being the protector of Vi and her happiness (as we see and compare the intros of both seasons as well.) And that's change and growth, people. Therefore, anybody saying that Vi should have followed Jinx, they just want to continue Vi’s role as a sacrificial sister and have everything continue to revolve around Jinx. It is a bad faith comment for this story and ruins their character arcs. Jinx does break the cycle here, removes herself from Vi’s life to pave the way for her happiness.

Although this scene between the sisters is important for us viewers, what it really does to Vi is put her back into a spiral. No, she does not know Jinx is going to try to take her life (another bad faith comment), she thinks Jinx left her again, that she made the wrong choice, and now she is going to lose Caitlyn again, too. She deals with her frustration of being trapped again (both mentally and physically) with her punches. And that is the state Caitlyn finds her.

Caitlyn and Vi and the Jail Cell:

Let’s rewind back to understand the symbolism of what Silco said and what that means to our characters.  

 “ We build our own prisons. Bars forged of oaths, codes, commitments. Walls of self-doubt and accepted limitations. We inhabit these cells, these identities, and call them ‘us.’ ” 

So what is Caitlyn’s prison?  

We see the cycle of violence taking shape in the context of the two cities, but we also see it in character dynamics with Jinx and Caitlyn. Jinx spent the entirety of season 1 suffering from attacks on her, ended up losing her mom to this violence, and then took a similar path down and contributed to the cycle of violence herself. Caitlyn’s prison is her hate and vengeance. Her identity as a Kiramman, the expectations and responsibilities she carries by that name. Her sense of justice.

How does she break the cycle: 

Caitlyn’s will to break free from her entrapment is both Vi and herself. She abandons her strict sense of justice she had built in her mind, choosing to see the bigger picture and her mistakes. She finally finds the strength to forgive Jinx and shifts all the guards to the Hexgates, clearing the path for Vi to free her. Aware that she may never see Vi again, she lets them go. Like Jinx, this is a selfless act, driven by the belief that it is the right thing to do and that it will make Vi happy. In the final episode, I believe Caitlyn stops being the Kiramman that everyone expected her to be and becomes the person she truly wants to be. Caitlyn and Jinx’s breaking the cycle moment mirror each other. While Jinx locks Vi up to stop it, Caitlyn frees her both physically and mentally.

What is Vi’s prison?

It's her responsibility to her family. She is stuck between her loved ones, Jinx and Caitlyn, and failing to choose one over the other. Her self-blame for making the wrong choice all the time. Her lack of self-love and always prioritizing what others need from her.

How does she break the cycle: 

Vi breaks the cycle by doing the opposite of what she has been doing and makes a choice for herself. She has had enough. I LOVE how Caitlyn walks into the cell and literally joins her in her spiral, revealing that she let all of this happen because she sees her now, she knows her heart, and accepts her for who she is (“sorry to say, you have grown a bit predictable”). For the first time, someone joins Vi in this fight and stands by her unconditionally. She feels unburdened, free, and encouraged. She is overwhelmed by her emotions that she kisses Caitlyn and decides to be with her. I don't care what everybody else thinks, but this act from Caitlyn and what it means to Vi is much better than a cheap “sorry”. After holding back for such a long time, this is an impulsive “screw this” moment for Vi. She wants to leave the past behind, her imprisonment, and move on. She says it herself with the “I don't f*cking care” line. And Caitlyn, being receptive, gently lets Vi take the lead and have whatever she wants.

Making love in that cell, their joy, happiness, and giggles create a juxtaposition to all the messed up stuff that they had been through and reflect their state of mind. They are rewriting their story. From a psychological perspective, it still makes sense as there are techniques similar to that to work on your traumas. But Arcane is an art piece, the creators are not here to scientifically prove something or break down how to overcome trauma with realistic therapy sessions. They are here to tell us a story, and they are doing exactly that.

This is why this scene shows and symbolizes the culmination of Caitlyn and Vi character arcs. They are coming full circle at the place they met. This scene shows two lovers “breaking free” from their prisons and running to each other. Finally choosing each other although they don't add up on paper. Running away from their personal worlds and commitments to be together. I do not know what is more romantic than that. This is a story that I will cherish forever.

If you have read this far, thanks again. It means a lot. If you have any questions, drop down below. I am happy to discuss it. (Excluding haters and antis, I don't tolerate them anymore.) Also, thanks to my best friend who helped me co-write this. She is a psychologist working in the field. Her specialty is forensic psychology, and her experience really makes her a great source to analyze a complex character like Jinx. A lot of you and your analyses encouraged me to put this out here, so thanks for that too. Arcane means a lot to me, especially season 2. And I will never, ever stop loving or talking about it.

[sugarikiz]

thank you @eunandonly & @wonziz for bringing more light to this on your post here and here respectively, and talking about @/sighdeepseeker (report and block please!) for their hate on enhypen over here

evidence:

how can ANYONE say what taeil did doesn’t bring them disgust/hatred the way seeing jungwon does? so what if he was dating a girl (winter, or not) and so what if he smoked?

calling niki stupid too, amd bringing him into smth he wasn’t part of at all, is absolutely insane too. okay, you didn’t like jungwon smoking or dating — fine. you do you. but why bring someone totally unrelated to the issue into the mix?

im not saying what they’re saying about jungwon is right, im saying what they said abt niki was just not needed here.

01. THE GENERAL HATE

whatever jungwon or the other members do or who they date is none of engene’s business. im putting that out there as an engene myself, and that is absolutely true.

all of the hate towards jungwon is so unwarranted; he is a 20 year old, and very much an adult, so even if it’s true, why should you have so much hatred towards him for it?

there are multiple western artists who smoke, and is anyone going to run behind them screaming “you’re a cheat! kys!” for that? no.

now, before you come at me saying “western and kpop are very different”, i have to say that i mean this in the way that you need to treat k-idols as humans too, just as you treat western artist like that too.

it’s not jungwon’s fault for going live to apologise for all the allegations and drama when hybe most likely made him do it.

if someone put your job on the line, for one weverse live where you might or might not have to lie, what would you choose; live or lose the job you worked so hard for as a child?

02. THE DATING ALLEGATIONS WITH AESPA’S WINTER —

@.sighdeepseeker said something like this on a post;

“why do i get aespa winter smut recommendations? sorry, i can imagine what her and jungwon are doing every night and I definitely don’t want to read about or see it thank you very much.”

firstly, WHO put a gun to your head to think about it that way, and secondly, WHY would anyone ever even want to think about it that way?

just because they might be dating does not give fake engenes or engenes in general a free pass to let their imaginations run wild, if they ever even were dating in the first place.

what is the prejudice with dating in this industry, I’ll never know. do you really imagine that a 20 year old man, or a 22 year old woman have never had a partner or some type of romantic interest? because if so, you might need to go see someone who can get you out of that weird mindset.

these are our idols, not our damn puppets, and I would love for “fans” to someday realise that, better sooner than later.

i urge you to please spread the awareness about this, and go look into this more. thank you for reading, and have a good day/night.

tagging — @puma-riki @bywonyo @flufflights @amoressb @heeaara @heestoleurgirl @woniefication @miukidoll @haerinheartss @leaderwon @flwrstqr

[dross-the-fish]

Love Never Dies- Thoughts and Reactions

This might end up being split into multiple parts but I am not finished talking about Love Never Dies. I did give it a rewatch to refresh myself and...oof. This play needs to be taken out back and shot because that is what it did to every single character in it. NO ONE looks good. Not even Christine. Let's start there. Let's talk about what this show does with Christine because we have completely reduced this character to nothing but her voice. What does Erik miss about Christine after ten years of pining? Her voice. He just wants her to sing for him one more time. The only thing he ever really mentions about Christine is her voice. Though I can't really fault him because if we're being serious about Christine's character...

What does she have outside of her voice? Nothing. Somehow LND Christine has even less personality than she did in the OG musical. She is a cardboard angel that other people pine over, try to control, or envy. She has almost no agency. I said before, I suspect that Andrew Lloyd Webber hates women and Christine does not come out of that unscathed. She spends pretty much all of the musical being bullied by Raoul, mothering Gustave, or being threatened by Erik when he and she aren't reminiscing about that one time they banged 10 years ago. Seriously what even the fuck was "Beneath a Moonless Sky?" For a song about how two characters couldn't resist each other neither of them seem particularly filled with desire. Christine is recoiling in horror and disbelief and Erik looks like a 15 year old who thinks sniffing his crush's hair is peak sensuality.

Mmmm....sexy. But whatever. Christine says at the end of the song she woke up to swear her love and was ready to dump Raoul but Erik had skedaddled so she ran back to Raoul. You read that right. Christine was going to pick Erik after they banged it out and he left and that is the only reason Christine is with Raoul. Seriously Andy? You're going to make her regret picking Raoul over Erik when she didn't even actually DO that? Erik made the choice for her?

*internal screaming* Erik, seriously, how are you going to be upset that she's moved on with Raoul if YOU left HER? Do you really think you have the right to coerce her to sing for you one more time when you were the one who broke it off? The hell is wrong with you? Of course when Christine resists he immediately goes to threatening her child.

When I say Erik is the WORST I mean it. He is reprehensible in this.

But this is about Christine. We'll get to Erik later. LND Erik deserves his own post.

There's honestly not much more to write about Christine. She spends a lot of time cowering from or trying to appease Raoul. She worries about her son and her death is honestly so unwarranted. When I say ALW's work has an undercurrent of meanspiritedness I mean shit like this. Christine hasn't really done anything wrong. I guess she cheated on Raoul 10 years ago? But well she was going to leave him and only stayed because her first option bailed on her? She didn't do anything to Meg. She's been living 10 years in an abusive marriage and her crazy ex who kidnapped her came back to threaten her kid and coerce her to sing his music one more time. Then she just...gets shot. She dies. It adds nothing to the story that she dies. It doesn't feel earned or justified in anyway. It just feels miserable for misery's sake. It's almost unceremonious the way they ax her off because it's not even intentional. Meg misfires the gun because Erik fucks up in trying to talk her down. Christine's death isn't even about Christine herself. It's about Meg and Erik. It's such a useless and stupid death to give this character. How old even is she? Supposedly she's around 18-20 in the original musical (we're ignoring the 2004 movie that puts her at 16) and this is 10 years later? She's barely 30 but she ends up a casualty to everyone else's vanity, jealousy, and selfishness. I feel like we're supposed to find it tragic but it doesn't hit. It's a meaningless and undignified end to a character that was given no agency over her own life or her death.

[nilla03]

𝐻𝐴𝑁𝐷𝐿𝐸𝐷 𝑊𝐼𝑇𝐻 𝐶𝐴𝑅𝐸

𝑃𝑙𝑜𝑡： 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑔𝑜 𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑠 𝑎𝑓𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑛 𝑎𝑟𝑔𝑢𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑛

𝐶𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑠： 𝑝𝑙𝑢𝑔 eren！

You knew you were playing with fire.

Turning off your location? Blocking eren on everything? Going out to his friends club like he wasn’t gonna find out?

Yeah. You were asking for it.

But after that argument earlier, you didn’t care. You weren’t about to sit at home and wait for him to cool off. If he was gonna act like he ran shit, then so could you. So now, you were posted up in VIP, looking like a dream—pink mini dress hugging your curves, glossy lips wrapped around a straw as you sipped your cocktail, legs crossed as your friends hyped you up. The music thumped through the club, the energy electric, and for a little while, you let yourself relax.

But then, you felt it.

That shift in the air. A weight heavy enough to make your skin prickle, your stomach twist.

And before you could even react, a familiar hand gripped your wrist. Your heart jumped. “What the f—”

Eren was right there. Big, broad, tatted, and pissed the fuck off.

He didn’t say shit. Just shot you a look that made your mouth snap shut before he yanked you up from the couch.

“What the hell-!” One of your girls started, but Reiner’s friend- who just so happened to own the club—was already smirking, shaking his head.

“Nah, let him handle that.” Your best friend was shocked by his response, you heard her cooking up some argument with him before he cut her off “nah, I’m takin’ you home too”

Handle you? And oh, was he about to.

“Eren, stop—” you huffed, heels barely keeping up as he dragged you through the club like you weighed nothing.

He didn’t stop. Didn’t acknowledge the stares.

Didn’t even slow down before he was tossing you over his shoulder like a rag doll.

You gasped, smacking his back. “Put me down!” eren just chuckled, dark and low, one heavy hand gripping the back of your thigh.

“Nah” he murmured, voice thick with warning. “You outta your damn mind if you think I’m lettin’ this slide.” Your stomach flipped.

Because the second he got you home?

Yeah. You were done for.

The car ride home was silent. You sat with your arms crossed, still fuming, but your body betrayed you—heart racing, thighs pressed together, skin still buzzing from the way he’d manhandled you.

Eren?

He just drove, jaw tight, fingers flexing over the wheel like he was holding himself back.

The second you stepped into your shared apartment, you turned on him, ready to let him have it.

“What the hell is wrong with you—”

But before you could finish, Eren grabbed a fistful of your hair, yanking your head back just enough to make you gasp.

"You really think I was just gonna let you pull that shit?" His voice was low, vibrating against your skin.

You swallowed, tilting your chin up in defiance. "I can do whatever I-" Eren cut you off with a rough chuckle, shaking his head before gripping your jaw.

"Yeah?" His golden eyes darkened.

You knew that look. Knew exactly what was coming next.

And the way his fingers trailed down, teasing the hem of your dress, the way his grip tightened—firm, possessive, —had you forgetting why you were mad in the first place.

[darlingdaisyfarm]

You know I've been meaning to ask.. is everything okay? I mean your pfp is blank. I understand you're uploading, but I also want to make sure you're okay

idk if i have some mental connection with you, anon, because how else i can explain that you sent this ask right when i felt so bad??? but yeah i should really put a pfp, i just can’t choose the right pic and at same time im lazy….

honestly i promised myself i wouldn’t vent online and irl because i don’t wanna be annoying or be the kind of person people get tired of. but i guess i just feel emotional rn sorry again

well 2025 kinda kicked me in the face already LMAO, it already reminded me that some people will always pick someone else and some things are just not meant to be yours. i just got reminded once again that i’m super replaceable to person i really loved and cared about. so now im realising that i was just there to pass the time until they found smth better, someone better. and they did, they did and that’s just unfair for me, i literally loved this person for 10 years and that's how i ended up

not exactly the fresh start i was hoping for lol

been feeling like a ghost in my own life lately so i guess i made this blog to just be somewhere, to talk to people, to share things i love, to feel like i exist in some small way. to find friends? idk. sometimes i wonder if i’m just taking up space here, but deleting this blog feels dramatic so whatever. although i thought bout this a lot and still think about it, but i guess im just being... yeah, dramatic, i mean i am, ive been told. so, i don't know, deleting feels rude ? and i don’t wanna be rude, i hate being rude :( i still hesitate every time i post though. and i don’t want to be that person who craves reassurance but damn, it gets lonely and im embarrassed to even say that rn

+ last year drained me so much that i couldn’t even start anything for a whole month. its about my work, i just felt stuck, exhausted before i even tried. things are getting better now with my work, though. it’s actually tied to people and honestly, i love that?? i mean, i love people very much. in general. so whenever i meet someone kind or understanding in my work, it lifts my mood

but when it comes to writing or fics, i feel like i’m always fighting myself. actually i enjoy writing, ive been writing since… 14? 13? so i try, i push through, but nothing ever feels right lately. i don’t know if it’s just a phase or if this is how it’s always going to be. why i always feel like i could’ve done better or that maybe i shouldn’t have posted at all

anyways….. i don’t usually post stuff like this. i really don’t want to be like this, i hate sounding so negative, i really do. i promised myself i wouldn’t. i usually just keep things to myself, but you seemed like you genuinely cared, sweetheart and i figured i might as well be honest, i appreciate your worry! thank u sm angel! ♡

[fancyfade]

Story ideas below:

Laura Fell: Darla Aquista has a crush on Tim Drake in Robin 1993 before she is shot and killed then brought back to life by some dude named Warlock (after her dad pays him) and he makes her do crime for him .At some point she trains with enchantress after spending 1 year in magical jail. I don't have any story ideas for her but I think she should get to beat up Tim with her magic powers as a treat. Or a fight then team up. DC seems to like putting Tim and Bernard in anthology comics sometimes and she's friends with both of them so.

Lionmane: Lionmane is a hawkman and batwing villain (and possibly others) who looks like a lion sort of. his is technically cheating b/c he appeared in Luke Fox's Batwing comic, which is less than 20 years ago. But his motive in Hawkman seemed partially to be wanting to have money to hire women to hang out with him, I think his valentine day special would be about finding furries exist.

Eric Forrester: He gets into a relationship with Raven because he wants to have sex with her and steal his soul to prevent his body from becoming... IDK a robot? Can't remember. No story ideas for him.

Paul: a dude who has a crush on raven at college and stans azarath. he brought back brother blood who had a crush on raven and wanted to make her marry him 20 years ago we should bring back the original raven hanger on except. he was a civilian and not a supervillain so he just punched a guy who made her made in college and then she was like "Do u understand what pacifist means bitch?" He'd be like trying to contact her on superhero social media IDK. Maybe he and Eric can be in a Raven's regrettable exes/near misses flashback

Linda Page: she's a socialite turned nurse who wants t od osomething with her life and who dated bruce in teh 1940s. I think we should see flashback panels of her shaming him when they are dating and now that bruce is more actively involved in philanthropy in his public ID present day her can be like "My shaming worked <3"

Koryak and Kako: Kako is an Inupiaq woman who arthur has a one night stand with when they are both teenagers and he's living in her house. She eventually gives birth to Koryak, Arthur's biological son, and then dies and becomes a fire elemental and Koryak inherits some water powers despite aquaman not having water powers. Anyway I think Aquaman should hang out with his ex and his son and we should remember that Koryak and his mom exist. They can be fighting magical crime or whatever.

Lori Lemaris: I don't know much about her besides her being Superman's mermaid college sweetheart, but oh well it's a valentine's day issue.

Letifos: a shark mermaid (automatically makes her badass and hot) who never wears a shirt and is fed up with Garth but also concerned about him, and he mistakes her for being Tula, his dead ex GF. I think Letifos and Garth should get together. As a treat <3

Degaton and Mechanique: I only read the Young All Stars plot Mechanique showed up in once so the details are hazy. she might have been acting like she was in a relationship with Degaton? Anyway, Degaton is here because he's amusingly pathetic. Like in a JSA issue he was talking about how he got a victory over the JSA because he was using his time traveling powers to watch stargirl cry after being dumped by her boyfriend. I think he'd posting on incel boards about how women only want to use you for... whatever mechanique was getting out of the relationship I strongly feel she betrayed him but I can't remember the details well.

Trevor Barnes: He's Wonder Woman's boyfriend from Phil Jimenez's run I think people should remember he exists. He works for the U.N, and is insanely busy like she is. IIRC he had a younger brother who wanted to be wonder boy but this can be another comic i only read once and misremembered details of.

[fascinationstreetmp3]

the more i think about it the more im convincing myself that if the show does do past book-plot-adjacent devil's minion that ends in a memory wipe instead of turning, then it means they've already incorporated a version of the period after daniel's turned where he ends up separating from armand and lives with marius for a long time. BUT that period of separation has become daniel living a human life for four decades instead.

book daniel focuses on his model towns, frequently disregarding almost everything else around him; show daniel focuses on his career above all else and ruins his marriages and relationship with his daughters....

but even with no past dm the separation after show daniel's turning works well too, on a much smaller scale. either way i just don't see them being able to incorporate that particular dynamic between marius & daniel in the future considering the differences between book & show daniel and for time reasons too, which is why i feel it's "already" happened in an altered form, either decades ago or during the timeskip between seasons. daniel's still gonna interact with marius in some way but i can't see it working out the same as it does in the books yknow

[licorishh]

double ?? upload ???? yeaaaahh i've gotten FASTERRrr for whatever that's worth so complementary blyla because guess what i miss them too (nobody was surprised by that)