#just to relieve my brain of some of these

[you-know-honey]

Hanging in Your Hands

Viktor x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4k

←←←1/2

Viktor finds in you a love that subtly transforms him: without realizing it, he begins to take better care of himself, rest better and relieve his pain, all thanks to the peace you bring him. Finding a way to show you what he could never do with words.

N/A: English is not my native language, feel free to correct me in the comments and I will update it. Remember to share and comment if you liked it. Endnotes.

“Home sweet home…” you hum as Viktor opens the door, letting you in first like a true gentleman. You’re the first to leave your coat on the coat rack and throw your shoes somewhere in the room, walking now much more comfortably towards the kitchen.

Viktor’s home isn’t very big, but it had changed a lot since the first time you went there. Before, everything looked like a scene from the most godforsaken place, with almost no furniture and white morgue lighting. It was hard to convince him that to improve his health he also need to improve his environment. The living room was the largest room, with a functional fireplace, a second-hand coffee table and a sofa so soft it could be a piece stolen from heaven. The kitchen was the smallest, there was no table or chairs, instead there was a breakfast bar and some swivel chairs that you had taken from the academy and that Viktor had fixed. The bathroom started the hallway, followed by his office and finally his room. You had made sure that every room reflected something positive, watering plants or doing crafts like a comfort fairy. Viktor appreciated it, he had told you so many times, he didn't mind that you filled his house with your not so practical decorations, they were your personal brand and he liked it, besides spending all that time decorating, painting and remodeling gave him more reasons to love you, to get to know you perfectly and be fascinated by what he found in your being. Without you he wouldn't have managed to make his house feel and look like a real home in which to rest.

Viktor removes his jacket with precise movements. His long, deft fingers slide the dark fabric over his shoulders, revealing the impeccable shirt that sits tight against his slim figure. He folds the jacket carefully, as if he's in no hurry, and lays it over the back of the sofa. His hands move up to the knot of his tie. His fingers, always so precise, pull at the knot with ease, undoing the pressure around his neck. The gesture, so mundane to him, has a strange effect on you, an electric current running through your body. As if that weren't enough, the top button of his shirt unbuttons under his touch, revealing just a flash of skin on his pale neck. His breathing seems to relax instantly, as if the small adjustment brings him some comfort.

Viktor exhales softly, running a hand through his messy hair, unaware that this distracted gesture, combined with the shadow of exhaustion on his face, makes him look almost unattainable, like a work of art that doesn’t realize its own beauty. You feel trapped in a magnetic web that he doesn’t even know he possesses.

“That was sexy,” you mutter to yourself as you rummage through some food in the fridge.

“Excuse me?” His low voice echoes behind you, you have no idea how he moved so fast, his tone is incredulous, and his eyebrows arch slightly.

You shrug, trying to look casual as you turn to look at him, even though you know your face is probably burning. “What I said. You’re sexy. Especially when you do that without realizing it.”

His brain shuts down for a moment, processing the bold comment. “Don’t joke with me…” he finally says, leaning his cane against the fridge and trapping you in a bear hug, your hands quickly returning his, feeling the medical corset under his shirt.

“I’m not joking,” you insist, your words crashing against his bare torso, causing him to shiver slightly, which only makes his arms draw you closer to his body. “Is it so hard to believe?” you can hear his heartbeat quicken.

“Stop it…” he replies with his lips on your head.

“Too shy to receive compliments?” in his defense you are being a little more daring than usual.

His arms pull you closer to his body as if that were possible, it is clear that he wants you to stop talking, he laughs when he feels you squirm in his arms as if you are complaining.

“Y/N…” he tells you with that tone that you know is a warning, although it is not serious, you know he is having fun.

You sigh and he loosens his hug a little, enough so that you can rest your chin on his chest.

“Shall we make dinner together?” you ask, Viktor leaned in slightly, his eyes half-lidded in a warm gesture, and brushed the tip of his nose against Y/N’s in a gentle movement, barely a whisper of contact. It was an intimate exchange, full of affection and closeness, that spoke louder than any words. It was as if they shared a secret, a moment just for them, full of warmth and sweetness.

“Sure.”

Making dinner together is a very big word for what really happens in that kitchen, you prepare everything and force him to sit behind the breakfast bar to prove that everything is on point once you start the dinner. Viktor is not afraid to admit that he does not know how to cook anything other than toast and sandwiches. The kitchen is his war zone and the oven is the enemy he has yet to overcome, luckily he has you and by the time the timer in the shape of a pigeon reaches zero his stomach growls with eagerness.

“Taran!” you proudly take the lasagna out of the oven, the warm aroma fills the whole house and both of your stomachs growl desperate for food. “How is it?” you look at him expectantly.

Viktor runs his face over the steaming mold, it looks good and smells good “It’s perfect…” although he could perfectly refer to you instead of the lasagna.

“Go to the sofa, I’ll bring the dishes in a second.” still with your gloves on you push yourself over the breakfast bar to give him a chaste kiss on the lips. Cooking always puts you in a good mood, but seeing that he likes what you cook is a reward on another level.

As you serve the plates and accompany it with something to drink, you watch Viktor’s silhouette walk towards the sofa, he limps a little but that gives him a certain charm because he no longer does it in pain, the way he sits, the way he sighs as he leans his back against the back of the sofa, the way he tilts his head to look at the fire. Everything about him seems like a work of art to you, from the veins that run through his pale, thin hands, his moles that you’re sure must be a constellation in the sky, his eyes that remind you of fresh honey in a virgin forest, his laugh, secret but beautiful like the whistling of rivers in the distance. You love him like you have no idea. Thinking about him revives your spirit, releases unbridled currents of adrenaline that die for him, to reach him, to be in his arms and stay there forever.

“Enjoy” he says when he leaves the dinner on the coffee table, letting you fall on the sofa. Using a blanket to cover you both from the cold.

“Enjoy” he answers, using his arm to pull your figure closer to him and rests his head on yours.

You both eat in silence, not because you have nothing to talk about, just that your stomachs really need that lasagna, you are focused on Viktor’s plate, but this time it doesn’t seem like your tactics are needed to get him to finish eating, he really razes the plate with emotion, something that makes you feel proud. With a full stomach it’s easier to think of something to talk about.

“How about a plant?” You ask, resting your head on his chest, there’s something about his heartbeat that works better to relax you than the ocean sound records on the record players next to the window.

“A plant? Where?” he asks with a playful tone “There are already many at home.” he mentioned, pointing with his gaze to the shelf above the fireplace, full of cacti of different sizes.

“For the lab…something small with green leaves maybe with flowers...” He can hear the small tone of excitement in your voice.

Viktor looked at you curiously. “What do you want it for?”

“For you. The doctors say plants help reduce stress.”

He smiled, a wonderful expression on his face. “Do you think a plant can handle that place?”

“I have faith in it. Just like in you.”

He takes a few seconds to look at you, there is tenderness in his gaze. He is not good with plants, in fact he agreed to have cacti only because they were easy to take care of since basically nothing happened if he forgot about it for a few days, a plant like the one you wanted requires more care but… he is not willing to say no to you, if you want it that way that will be and he will take care of that plant better than anyone else.

“A plant it is then.” He sighs. His figure moves beside you, before you know it he’s picking up the plates.

“Leave the plates, I’ll wash them,” you say, quickly getting up from the couch as Viktor begins to stack the cups and plates on the coffee table.

“No need. I’ll do it,” he replies calmly, already focused on the task. His hands move with the same precision he uses in the lab, carefully stacking each plate to keep them from falling.

“Viktor, I’m your guest. You can’t wash the dishes,” you insist, stepping forward to take the plates from his hands.

He raises an eyebrow, his expression reflecting a mix of amusement and stubbornness. “Guest? You’ve been here so many times that I could claim my bedroom. There’s no point in arguing this.” You reach for the last plate, but Viktor pushes it away with a swift movement. “It’s just a small task. It’s nothing complicated.”

“But—”

“There are no ‘buts’.” He gives you a look, serious but not harsh. It’s more like a silent declaration of victory. “I’ll take care of it.”

Resigned, you sigh and cross your arms, watching him from the couch as he stacks the plates like a jenga and heads toward the kitchen. However, as he stands up with the stack of plates in his hands, he suddenly stops halfway.

For a moment, you don’t understand what’s going on. His back is slightly bent, his posture rigid. Then, he turns his face slightly toward you, his lips pressed into a tight line.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, moving closer with concern.

“A small… inconvenience,” he says in a tone that tries to sound calm, although you notice the stiffness in his voice.

You move closer and see the reason: one of the glasses is dangerously tilted, about to fall. His hands are too busy holding the others and holding onto the cane; moving just a millimeter could lead to disaster.

“Let me help you,” you offer with a smile you can’t help.

“No. It’s under control,” Viktor insists, although his tone lacks the firmness it had before.

“Sure? Because you look like you’re a second away from creating an experiment on the fragility of ceramics.”

His lips curve into a slight smile, but his attention remains fixed on the plates. With a quick but gentle movement, you slide your hands over to catch the wayward glass before it falls.

Viktor shoots you a look, his eyes shining with a mix of gratitude and resignation. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Now, can you admit that you need help from time to time?”

He sighs, shaking his head as he continues on his way to the kitchen. “No. But I’ll let you believe it, this time.”

You roll your eyes in response.

“How about I wash them and you dry them?” he offers.

“Fine.”

You watch him sitting at the breakfast bar watching him thoroughly wash each plate, glass, and cutlery, drying his hands on a kitchen towel.

“All yours,” he says as he leaves the kitchen, which is too small for the two of them. “I’m going to go take a shower.”

“Do you want some company?” His figure tenses up like a cat, stopping only to turn around slightly to find a mischievous smile on your face.

“Nice try.” A stifled laugh escapes his lips before he disappears down the hall and it’s not long before you hear the sound of running water.

The dim light of the bathroom bathed the tense lines of Viktor's figure, reflecting his thinness and the sharp features that marked his skin. Viktor took off his shirt with slow, almost mechanical movements. He had always avoided looking at his nakedness in the mirror, the reflection of a weak man made him sick, but this time the mirror gave him a different image. When he took off his shirt he discovered that on his torso his ribs were barely noticeable, his abdomen was no longer sunken and even a tiny roll of fat had formed in the lower part. He was still thin, but when he touched him he felt muscles and not just his bones, his pale skin had taken on more softness and color. The wounds left by his corset had stopped being reddened furrows and were now barely noticeable.

He caressed his neck, slightly hunched, free of tension. The scars on his side, reminders of medical procedures, were no longer like cracks, but just soft marks.

As he unbuttoned his pants, he braced himself with one hand on the wall for balance. His outer brace trembled slightly. With a methodical movement, he removed the metal piece, carefully setting it aside, as if it were an extension of himself that he could not despise.

He felt like a different person, naked in front of the mirror, admiring a more vivid reflection of himself, his hands running over his muscles that were once tired and sore, now looking strong and energetic. He smiled a little, hesitantly. For the first time, he liked what he saw in the mirror and he knew who he had to thank for that.

Steam began to fill the room as he adjusted the water to hot for the comfort of his leg. Once naked, Viktor stood still for a moment, letting the moisture envelop his skin. His body, although marked by a certain fragility, radiated an unbreakable strength, feeling each scar with something other than disgust for the first time in a long time. His eyes closed, enjoying that shower like no other.

After finishing putting away the dishes, you peeked into the hallway. You found him sitting on the bed, wearing baggy pajama pants and his shirt covering his naked torso, his head in his hands and his eyes fixed on his leg. His posture was rigid, filled with a tension that you could almost feel in the air.

You didn't say anything at first, because you knew that what he needed wasn't words, but company. You approached silently, crossing the hallway and sat down next to him, placing a hand on his good knee.

"Does it hurt?" you finally asked, your voice barely a whisper.

Viktor nodded, not raising his head. "A little. There are times when... it feels like it's never going to go away." He internally cursed himself, the whole day had passed without problems, with barely any discomfort, he didn't understand why the pain decided to attack him right now, it was as if it was mocking him.

Your chest tightened at his vulnerability. You knew how much he hated showing weakness, even with you.

"Let me help…"

He stared at you for a moment, as if considering your words. He finally nodded with a sigh. You knelt in front of him, placing his leg over your lap, pushing his pajama bottoms up to his thigh, your cold fingers giving him goosebumps where you touched them. The internal mechanism of the device on his leg was simpler but no less aggressive, as you removed the straps you could hear small gasps coming from Viktor’s mouth, his hand crumpling the sheets beside him, his skin reddening as the pressure of the device disappeared. Once the device was off you followed the usual nightly ritual, sliding your hands up his leg, applying pressure to the right spot and massaging the tense muscles in his leg and foot, you were precise, almost surgical, as you moved your hands up his leg with extreme gentleness. At first his muscles were tense but slowly you felt them relax under your touch. Finally, the tense grimace changed to a placid, lazy expression of relief as the pain faded.

"Better…" he murmured after a while. His voice sounded calmer.

“See? I’m good at this.” you said as you stood up to sit beside him on his bed.

He laughed softly, his low, warm laugh filling the space. “Maybe I should hire you as my personal physical therapist.”

“You couldn’t pay me enough.” you teased, giving him a soft poke on his nose. “But lucky for you, I do this because I care about you.” Your hands slid down his back, taking the shirt with you, exposing his medical corset. It took you a little more technique to remove it, a couple of twists here and the movement of the levers on his shoulder blades were enough to make the heavy structure give way, pulling it over his head and leaving it on the floor under the nightstand. Your hands caressed his bare back, his skin pale as sweet milk and warm as the first rays of the sun in the day.

He took your hand then, bringing it to his lips to place a soft kiss on your fingers and murmur against them, “How lucky I am…”

“You have no idea…” you said, sliding your hand up his arm to his cheek. He looked totally sleepy but willing to simply adjust his posture and have your lips meet his in a slow, delicate brush, more sensation than intention. His messy hair falling over his forehead, tickling the bridge of your nose.

Without saying anything, his fingers slowly slide up your cheek, warm and a little clumsy, as if even in his sleepy state he wanted to make sure he touched you carefully. His thumb traces a small circle against your skin, and his lips, barely curved in a lazy smile, murmur your name, so low it almost seems like a sigh.

You lean into him, unable to resist the closeness he himself seeks. Viktor, so practical and rational during the day, now seems completely given over to the moment. The whole world had been reduced to that single point of contact.

There is no rush in the kiss, only a sweetness heavy with tiredness, as if sleep were pulling at him but he couldn’t help but stay with you a little longer. His lips are warm, soft, and his breathing, calm but irregular, mixes with yours.

When the kiss breaks you don’t know how, but you’ve ended up lying on the bed, his lips barely separating from yours, staying so close that you can feel the heat of his breath against your skin. His eyes half-closed, they look at you with a softness that melts any thought.

“I have a gift for you…” his voice is barely a whisper against your lips “Can you bring my bag please?” he asked, dragging one of your locks of hair behind your ear. You close your eyes, you're so comfortable that you don't want to separate from him. "Honey... please..." his words completely disarm you, the air leaves your lungs and you have to drag him back inside, it's the first time he calls you that...

You didn't expect it, you don't know what to do or say next. "I... amhmm... I... will go get your bag..." you murmur unsurely as you basically flee the room with your heart racing. You may have heard Viktor's giggle behind you but maybe it was just your nerves playing a bad joke on you.

When you returned with the bag to the room Viktor has lifted his torso from the bed and holds a small package wrapped excellently in ornate paper in his hands. You crawl to his side on the bed, cautiously dragging his bag, was sending you for it, a trick?

The air in the room is charged with a quiet expectation as Viktor leans forward slightly, holding a box wrapped in dark, elegant paper. His fingers, always careful, seem a little tenser than usual, as if the act of handing you the gift is more intimidating than he imagined.

“This is for you,” he says, his voice low but firm, though you notice the slight tremor in his words. He hands it to you, but doesn’t look directly at you; his eyes fixate on some indefinite spot, as if he’s not entirely sure how you’ll react.

You take the box, feeling the unexpected weight in your hands. You watch him, searching for some clue in his expression, but Viktor just crosses his arms, adopting a posture that could be interpreted as casual, though his slightly stiff shoulders give it away.

“Open it,” he murmurs, and his eyes finally meet yours, shining with a mix of nervousness and something deeper, something you can only describe as affection.

As you open the paper, you discover a retro-designed camera, impeccable, with a simple elegance that suits him perfectly. You blink, surprised, as he leans over to turn it on. Before you can ask, his hand rummages through his bag, showing you the small Hextech gem and to your utter astonishment he places it inside the camera mechanism. The room lights up for a moment before Viktor presses a button and the magic begins.

At first, music is the first thing you can hear, then like real magic you see a series of hologram images all around the room: you and him together at different moments, some captured in secret, others you remember clearly. Laughter, glances, small everyday gestures. Then, the photos change to your favorite things: books, landscapes, objects you love, letters you’ve never read written in his own handwriting, every detail carefully collected.

And then, his voice.

“My name is Viktor and…” he begins, his tone deep but soft, with that meticulous cadence that characterizes him. “This is for my dear Y/N. A record of shared moments, of laughter, of everything you represent to me, of everything she is and everything she have allowed me to be.”

Your eyes glaze over as the images continue: your first photo together, a romantic poem, even the portrait of you both that an artist had made on your first date after leaving the hospital, your favorite flowers, things only someone in love would choose.

“It’s an archive of memories,” his voice continues, “but also a reminder to me. That no matter how chaotic the world is, there’s always beauty in the small moments. And in all of these moments, there’s her.”

When the voice ends, the silence that remains is overwhelming, laden with emotions you can’t put into words. You look up at Viktor, who now seems unable to meet your gaze, his cheeks totally red.

“I wasn’t sure if it would be too much.." he admits, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “But I thought… maybe you’d like it. You’ve done so much for me…”

You lean into him, setting the camera aside, and wrap your hands around his neck. “Too much?” Viktor, this is perfect...”

His lips curve into a small but genuine smile, and even though he tries to hide it, you can see the relief and joy in his eyes. This gesture, so meticulous and full of love, is irrefutable proof of how much you mean to him.

The weight of what you just saw is still present in your chest, warm and overwhelming. The camera is off to the side, forgotten for the moment, because now all your attention is on him. Viktor is still in front of you, clearly nervous but trying to keep his composure, as if you don’t know how to handle your emotions at this moment.

“What’s wrong?” he asks quietly, with that analytical look that never seems to completely fade. But there’s something else in his eyes now: a mix of vulnerability and hope, as if he’s not sure if his gift had had the impact he expected.

You don’t need words to answer him.

You move toward him in one motion, your hands gripping the sides of his face before he can react. His skin is warm beneath your fingers, and for an instant, you can feel his breathing hitch, caught between wonder and anticipation.

“You’re amazing,” you murmur against his lips, and before he can process it, you kiss him.

The kiss is urgent, charged with everything you feel and everything you can’t put into words. It’s like you want to tear down any remaining doubts he might have about how much you love him. Your lips move with a desperate hunger, as if you’re seeking to etch into him every emotion he’s provoked in you.

It takes Viktor a second to react, but when he does, he kisses you back with equal intensity. His hands, ever careful, grip your waist, pulling you closer to him as if he needs to have you closer. There’s no longer any shyness in his movements, only the restrained passion of someone who’s been waiting for this moment without realizing it.

His breathing is fast, ragged, and you can feel his lips tremble slightly against yours, not out of insecurity, but from the torrent of emotions that overwhelms him. One of his arms wraps around you, while his other hand moves up to tangle in your hair, holding you with a firmness you’ve never felt from him before.

When you finally part, you’re both breathless. His eyes, normally calm and focused, now shine with a mix of wonder and devotion. His lips are red, and a smile, small but sincere, forms on his face.

“I wasn’t expecting that,” he says, his voice huskier than usual.

“Did it bother you?” you ask, still panting, your hands still on his face.

“Disturb me?..” Viktor lets out a soft laugh and shakes his head, his forehead touching yours. “I couldn’t. But… I might need another demonstration to be completely sure.”

His playful tone, combined with the way he looks at you, makes your heart race again. “Cheeky…” Without saying a word, your eyes drift to the camera still resting to the side. You take the camara with firm but hurried hands, turning it on as he looks at you with a mix of curiosity and confusion.

“What are you doing?” he asks softly, tilting his head.

“I want this saved too,” you reply with a mischievous smile, holding the camera in the air, above the both of you.

Before Viktor can react or say anything else, you lean towards him again on the bed, capturing his lips in a kiss filled with all the love you feel. This time, the kiss is more confident, more determined, as if you both know exactly what you mean to each other.

With the camera in one hand, you press the button, the click barely perceptible between the racing beat of your heart and the soft whisper of his breath against your lips.

When the kiss ends, you both stand there, foreheads together, sharing a soft laugh, as if the simple act of capturing that moment makes it even more special.

The photo joins the rest floating around the room, and you see the image: the two of you locked in a kiss, your hand holding the camera, his hair a little messy, and his face slightly tilted toward you, as if his entire world is contained in that instant.

“Perfect,” you say quietly, stroking your thumb along the edge of the camera before turning back to him.

Viktor looks at the photo, and though he doesn’t say anything, the soft smile on his face says it all. You grab the camera and add the image to the video, where that photo now sits as part of the collection. One more memory that encapsulates not only who you are, but what you mean to each other.

He looks at you once more, his golden eyes shining with something you could swear is pride. “I think this is my favorite memory so far,” he murmurs, taking your hand delicately, as if afraid the moment might fade away.

And in that instant, you know that no matter how much time passes, that photo—and this kiss—will always be unforgettable.

N/A: I'm sorry for the delay, my dog died and I didn't have the strength to do anything other than be in bed. I really hope you like it and it was what you expected.

[letskilltimetogether]

Omg I’m so sorry for leaving you hanging ;-; I can only offer the excuse of crippling school projects, but I’m back!

Dr. Stone Spoilers for most of the story

Okay so your point about him being a good leader actually opened up a can of worms in my brain. This is def kind of off topic? But I think it’s interesting so I want to write it down for my own sanity.

For a while know I’ve been coining Senkuu as a bad leader, or at least not ideal for personal writing purposes, but your comment made me rethink it. Looking at things with a fresh start, I realized Senkuu is a good leader, but not in the way I was originally imagining. (Doing my best to keep it as canon as possible) Senkuu 1. Cares deeply about people, not just his own 2. Is very strategic and thinks of the future 3. Does not want power. These 3 aspects make him a good leader, especially in the setting of Dr. Stone.

To use an analogy, He would be a very good science club leader, which is kind of what he is. He is dedicated to the craft, and can manage a small group of people with similar goals, and rather than excluding others, he encourages and fights for them to join his club of nerds.

However!

For the first part of Dr. Stone, that works fine. It’s just the Kingdom of Science and the Empire of Might. It’s like 140 people, who although need some coaxing, can work together. But once America hits and they have Zenos people how have very different ideas, and all sorts of other civilizations across the globe… people are going to have conflicting ideas. There’s always going to be Tsukasas, misguided people, and Hyogas and Homuras, people who don’t mean well and try to shape the world in their making. This is where I believe Senkuu is no longer the best choice, as I don’t think he could handle managing and keeping peace between all of these people, in addition to perusing and steam heading science projects. Obviously there’s people to help him do these things, but it’s a lot.

Many people instead make Ryusui the main leader, which is not a bad decision. He’s used to leadership and thrives in positions of power, and cares about the people around him, even if they don’t like him(most of this comes from his confidence/arrogance, but still). He is great at planning and managing people, and is decent at working with people who have different views than him. However he doesn’t really understand the differences between what people say/think they want, and what they need, and he could make bad decisions based on that misconception. In addition, Ryusui is pretty disconnected from the people around him as he had a very different upbringing, and can’t always relate to people. This makes him a caring leader, but unable to properly act this way.

Both he and Senkuu are decent leaders on their own, but still not great. In conclusion, I say the best solution is to have the 5 generals, so some other council, in charge. They balance each other’s faults, this sharing of power relieves the pressure of leading the entirety of humanity from 1 person’s shoulders.

Main tangent over lol.

I def agree about Senkuu trying to save everybody, including Tsukasa, with all of the stuff happening at the beginning of Treasure Island Arc being a lot to juggle. This means to me that his decision to give Hyoga and Homura to the “authorities”/legal system is weak evidence for him being lawful.

I feel like we’re running this thread dry, so I pose another question: How do you feel about the ending of the manga, and how would you change it? I have some strong thoughts about those last few arcs lol.

*offers microphone in one hand and a bag of chips in the other*

Also happy holidays!!

Your honor they're homosexuals

[ghostgirl-22]

feminization art this… feminization art that… feminization with patrick. i need him in pink lingerie IMMEDIATELY i need to see his full balls being hardly contained by the cutesy lacy pink panties!!!! i NEED ITITITIT and how would art react.

Hi anon! So I wrote this then saw you said pink. Sorry he’s in white lace. I hope that’s okay <3 also if you’re curious I added the reference here.

CW: 18+ !NSFW! Feminization kink

—-

Art grew up with only sisters, spent summers with his Grandma who also happens to be his favorite person. Oddly enough outside of Patrick, he’s always more naturally gravitated towards women. He felt pretty comfortable when chatting with women and they generally felt comfortable around him. Though it often meant that he saw too much or heard too much, and occasionally girls he met would think he was the “gay” friend and they’d undress in front of him or walk around in just a bra and underwear.

Sometimes even after he’d clarify many times that he was very much into women, some of his friends would do it anyway. It could get a bit confusing if he’s honest.

Patrick would tease him with that reductive take, “men and women can’t be friends.” And Art would disagree and then two weeks later one of his “friends” would tell him she was crushing on him. And as sensitive as Art could be, he’s still a red blooded male and he’d end up proving Patrick right.

He’s sitting in the dorm with one of his close friends Kelsey and a few other girls. One who happens to be Patrick’s ex girlfriend Ashley who Art doesnt know that well outside of the fact that she’s not that great of a tennis player. For whatever reason they’re talking about the silliest thing you’ve ever done for a boy. Ashley brings up the time she made her boyfriend try on lingerie at Victoria’s Secret.

Kelsey’s giggling. “You can’t mean Patrick Zweig.”

“Oh I definitely mean Patrick Zweig. And when I tell you it was so hot. Like his cock barely fit in those lacy white panties and he was just so…hard…” she giggles. “I think he liked it. Like a lot. We ended up fucking in the changing room.”

“Oh my god!” Kelsey says and she glances at Art, mouthing sorry. As she often did when girl talk got to be a little too much. Art forces himself to smile hoping he looks nonchalant but his palms are suddenly sweaty and his heart rate has picked up for some reason.

“I couldn’t help myself.” Ashley continues. “I had to fucking buy it all. It was so embarrassing. I just pulled off the tags and brought them to the register so they could ring everything up but it was so obvious to the sales lady what we did.” She says, grinning. “He didn’t care of course. I spent like two hundred bucks gave the whole set to him for his birthday and then he fucking cheated on me with Cali.”

A few minutes later Kelsey points out that Patrick is his roommate and best friend and Ashley giggles awkwardly and starts fidgeting with her curls. “I’m so sorry you had to hear that about your roommate.”

Art mumbles that it’s no big deal and that he knows Patrick can be an asshole so he doesn’t take offense.

But hours later he can’t stop thinking about it. It’s like his mind is stuck. He can’t move on from that story. Patrick tells him just about everything but he’s never told him that. Art is certain he would have remembered lacy white panties.

He’s not sure what’s happening to him but when he gets back to his room he’s relieved to see it’s empty. It’s twelve in the afternoon and he’s touching himself. His head all wrapped up in that story. He tells himself it’s not about Patrick. And so what if his slightly addled brain is imagining Patrick’s tall, lanky form in barely there lace panties. His too big cock just overwhelming the fabric, jet black pubic hair everywhere. Imagines him fucking into Ashley’s pussy while she calls him a good girl. It’s not about Patrick, it’s the lingerie. Art moans as he spills all over his mattress. He collapses on the bed and sighs, “Such a good girl.”

He hears laughter and he freezes immediately, heat flooding his skin. Patrick must’ve snuck in sometime before he finished. Art hadn’t heard the door but to be fair he wasn’t gonna hear much of anything once he’d reached that state. He sits up in bed, most likely red as a tomato as he pulls his shorts up over his thighs.

”Who’s the good girl?” Patrick snorts, dropping his book bag by the door and settling across from Art on his own bed. “And I’ll take a wild guess, you were hanging out in Kelsey’s room. I told you man. Boys and girls can’t be friends.”

“It’s not— it’s nothing, um— how was tutoring?”

”Oh come on, don’t do that. Tell me.” Patrick says grinning.

Art can barely look at him. His imagination had just been so vivid. He’s so fucking grateful Patrick can’t read minds but of course it’s not gonna stop him from trying.

“Wow look at you, she must be really hot. Come on, sunshine… spill.” Patrick demands. When Art doesn’t offer anything Patrick starts guessing names. Following him around the room while he cleans up after his… activities. Art lets him talk himself silly until he gets distracted by something else. He is determined to never, ever, mention it to Patrick ever. But his brain doesn’t let go of the image. In fact, night after night the fantasy just expands.

Patrick on his knees. Lacy white bra on now and he’s playing with his nipples. And now instead of Ashley it’s Art with him at Victorias Secret. And he’s rubbing Patrick through the panties with his socked foot and calling him good girl. “Good girl. Pretty girl. You were so nice all day. I’m gonna fuck you in the dressing room. Don’t take the panties off.”

Art wakes up all sticky nearly every night and has to sneak out of bed to change his boxers. No excuse now for how or why he’s taken Ashley’s place. No excuse for why he’s horny all the time, touching himself every minute he has alone. Touching himself till he’s dizzy. He’s driving himself crazy. It’s not Patrick, it’s probably his brain being weird because they spend so much time together. He’s not gay. He definitely likes women. He just really, really needs to see what this lingerie looks like. Maybe that will calm him down.

He waits for Patrick to leave for practice, making an excuse about his shoulder even though he’s been fine for over a month since he pulled that muscle. And when he’s sure Patrick’s gone he goes digging through his things. He’s so disorganized compared to Art, he doesn’t have an assigned drawer for anything so it takes some time. He doesn’t even find it in the drawer actually. He ends up looking in his closet and there’s a little pink bag tucked in the top in the corner. He’d almost given up. Art pulls it down and something lacy and white falls out.

Art kinda regrets his decision. It’s this little baby doll lace slip and tight little see through panties. Art is even more obsessed now. The image in his head screaming loud and clear. Patrick’s big thighs in this. He can’t help himself. He crawls on the bed and starts touching himself. “Such a pretty girl. Such a good girl. Want me to play with you. Make you feel so good.” He’s whining. His head all wrapped up in fantasy. Imagining the soft sound of Patrick’s voice, (Mm yeah, yes. You can do whatever you want, sunshine).

He hears the door this time. It’s entirely too late to hide the evidence but he’s still trying. Patrick’s got his tennis bag and he’s all flushed from practice. “Um…” he says stopping in his tracks as he reaches the bed and notices the lingerie.

Art doesn’t think he can possibly be anymore embarrassed and then Patrick starts grinning. “Oh fuck. Did Ashley tell you?”

Art nods because his voice isn’t really working.

“Fuck,” Patrick looks over Art and Art secures the blanket over himself trying to hide it. “You can try it on if you want, I washed em,” Patrick says, lightly.

Art bites his lip and then clears his throat. “I was thinking maybe you… you could?” In his fantasies he always sounds more assertive.

Patrick looks at him amused. “Oh Donaldson, am I the good girl?”

Art feels himself flushing so much he ponders going into the bathroom and hiding in there until they finish their senior year and he can disappear to Stanford and never see or hear from Patrick again.

“Fuck… okay…” Patrick says, chuckling all soft as he gazes at Art. “I can be your good girl.” He picks up the lingerie.

Art almost starts touching himself again, right then and there for the way Patrick says it.

“You want to watch me put it on? Or you want me to just come out ready for you?” Patrick asks, like this is just the most normal thing in the world.

Art clears his throat again. “R-ready?”

Patrick grins. “Okay stay there. Don’t touch.”

It’s a good thing he said that because it’s all Art wants to fucking do. He ponders lying on his side and just humping the mattress as a workaround. He hears the shower run but Patrick doesn’t take too long. Doesn’t take long at all. Whatever Art imagined, whatever his brain managed to conjure up the real thing is just… infinitely better.

“Fuck, I forgot how horny this shit made me,” Patrick sighs. He’s so tall, his legs long, unshaven. Knees, knobby and pink from being out in the cool air and then the hot shower. The top is lacy, thin straps, a smattering of freckles on the backs of his arms. The sheer fabric opens in the front over his flat abdomen. He’s got a four pack at the moment. A few freckles dot his stomach and theres a dark treasure trail leading down.

Patrick’s dick is… It’s absurd the way Patrick’s not being held in by the panties at all. Big heavy balls slipping from the bottom, cock shaft and head pressing out of the waistband, precum leaking out of him already. Art can’t help himself… he’s rubbing himself right away.

Hes not sure what he’s doing when he starts licking Patrick through the lace of the panties. “Just wanna taste your pussy.” He whispers, his voice foreign to his ears.

“Fuck, yeah taste it sweetie. It’s all yours.” Patrick breathes.

Art’s licking stripe after stripe along the sheer fabric and then he can’t wait any longer. He’s easing it out and taking as much as he can into his mouth.

“Mm fuck…” Patrick breathes sharply. “You like the taste, don’t you? Fucking delicious pussy.”

“Mmhm,” Art says, he’s helpless. Smelling him, licking him, tasting him. He’s losing his mind. His cock is throbbing mercilessly between his legs as he keeps going and going. Patricks just standing there so solid in front of him. So fucking full. So much. Too much. He’s taking it as Patrick slowly starts to thrust his hips. Deliciously desperate moans escaping his lips.

“You’re so fucking hot,” Patrick gasps. “I’ll be the best fucking girl for you.”

”Mm,” Art groans.

“I’ll ride you if you want. Squirt all over you. Get you wet… So wet.”

Art’s got his hand working between his thighs, he’s gonna fucking cum.

“Fuck baby… I’m gonna fill your mouth with so much, and you can fucking kiss me when I’m done and tell me I’m your good…nnngh—-”

Art can feel the heated liquid in his mouth everywhere all at once. Feels it, coating his tongue and the roof of his mouth, sliding down his throat with his spit.

He doesn’t want to but he pulls it out, wet and obscene like he’s just been sucking on a lollipop. All of the excess dripping from his mouth onto the floor while he finishes jerking himself off.

He collapses onto his back on the bed, chest heaving and breathless when he’s done. “Fuck,” he gasps.

Patrick chuckles softly and crawls on top of him. “Good?” He asks.

Art pulls at the sheer fabric and Patrick comes closer so Art can kiss him. “You were right.” Art says softly against his lips.

“Mm was I?”

“Mmhm,” Art says, grinning. “Men and women can’t be friends, sweetheart.”

Patrick smiles back, “Fucking insane.”

[curvykittyyssmutfics]

THIS CAME TO ME IN MY DREAM... CAN YOU MAKE A STORY ABOUT THE READER BEING NANAMI'S LITTLE SISTER AND GOJO HAS A CRUSH ON HER OR SMTH IDK 🤭🤭🤭

A/N: Gojo art credits go to @tayatimiko

GOJO that jumps in his seat startled af, eyes wide as saucers behind his blind fold when come up from behind and cover em w/ both hands. "Baby, why haven't u called me back? It's so lonely in my mansion." You quote, a sensual whisper in his ear. He jumps to his feet, bumpin into his desk clumsily, offering a nervous chuckle at ur joke. "Hey, y/n.. Was just omw out. Sorry. I Gotta, um.. Uhh, u know-," Stutters some lame excuse and flees the classroom. Just like he does whenever u catch him alone after hours. "What the actual fuck?" 🤨 Fuckin guy's been actin strange lately. Like even for Satoru's weird ass. You've been tryin to get him alone to talk about but it's as if he can't stand to be in the same room with u. Refuses to look at u more than a few seconds and its drivin u too the damn brink.

GOJO that's always been like kin to u. But you're not fuckin blind, how could you not notice the skyscraper is sex onna stick? Soiled 💦 plenty of ur pretty panties just from lookin at his pretty face. But he swats away ur school girl crush without a thought. As Nanami's lil sis, Satoru insisted on treating u like a sibling. But ur older now. And what u don't know is.. He can't deny you've grown into a lovely young woman. Smart, compassionate, brave. And GAWD, don't even let him start thinkin bout that fuckin body..

GOJO is startin to feel like a super creep cause he can't stop his filthy mind from day dreaming albout you, no matter what he's doin. Ur soft curly mane, shape of ur beautiful y/e/c eyes, curve of ur cute nose. The softest plush full lips.. They'd def feel otherworldly wrapped around his- 👄👅🍆"Fuuuck, baby, don't stop.." Satoru groans, abruptly wakin himself up from the lusty dream starring u. Scrubs at his tired features and glances at the alarm clock. 12:37 am. "Dammit, ma.. Can't even sleep without u on my mind." Spends the rest the night tossin and turnin, tryin to erase the vision of u gaggin on his cock from his pervert brain.

GOJO no longer believes in relieving his stress if it isn't inside of u, basically becomes a born again virgin. Really thinks the amount of nut he's savin for u gave him hyperspermia and now every time he cums, it can literally fill buckets. Even worse he just start havin the most intense nocturnal emissions. Though his body feels like it's on cloud 9, it's startin to get aggravating, goin to sleep w/ u on his mind only to wake up to his dick dischargin like a automatic. "Shitshitshit! Nooo, not again." Satoru stares at his inflated cock swelling fatter in disbelief, energy burstin from him uncontrollably when he spasms, whimpering for u again and again as the temple starts to tremble, cracks tearing through the foundation. "Y/n, baby, fuuuck- I need u! Ohhplease, be mine.. Jus lemme feed that pussy this big fat load. Please honey, 's all for u, all for -nghh.. ah, ah, ah, can't stop! I can't stop cummin for u baby." The lastest dirty delusional demo 🍆🍩 of u cloggin his brain and he's so helpless, grippin the thick throbbing base of his shaft tight, trying to stop the overwhelming flow, gut compressin as the next spurt shoots even harder. An detrimental earthquake cracks through the surrounding streets but Satoru's too busy cryin and shakin. "Oh fuck, I can't take it! T-too good, too much.. haaah! 'M gonna die, pleeease! Stopstopstop- no! Wanna stuff u princess, such a waaaste.." Delrious ass sweatin bullets while his nut shoots high in the air, splatter audible when it rains back down all over his face and chest. But he just sloppily jerks at his dick, head saggingon his pillow as he attempts to wring himself dry, nut coating his slender knuckles in the yummiest glaze. "H-help me sweet girl- ohhh y/nnn.." Can't stop gaspin ur name, thrashin in his king size bed, the last of his ooey gooey nut cascading down his dick and balls as thunder crashes up above, lightning hailing across the sky like electric arrows before a random bolt slices through the adjoining building. Fuck.. Yaga's definitely gonna be pissed.

GOJO despises staying away from u and misses the fuck outta ur clingy ass. Craves how u used bake him his favorite sweet treats when he came over, yummy body bangin in ur sports bra and lil cotton shorts. Backing it up on him, reachin back to grip his neck, twerking all on him to the nastiest playlist. Or how u used to slide to his place unannounced, usually watchin as he laid on his tummy and rocked out on the ps5 in only a pair of black briefs. You'd always sit on his naked back, playin in his hair, massagin the weeks tension out his broad shoulders as he shouted obscenities at his teammates, only pausing to groan in satisfaction at ur talented fingers. Satoru can still feel the heated print of ur cushy tush 🍑 and chubby puss 🍪 molded to his spine. Had to will his away his nut countless times as he laid atop a fat boner, tryin to concentrate on the game and not moan like a whore when u squish ur front to his back and hug him tight. "Yay, good job Toru, u won!" Ur weight puttin the most delicious pressure on his dick. Feels so slutty rememberin how the smallest softest kiss to the back of neck had his eyes glazing over, teeth diggin into his bottom lip as nut pours from his flushed slit.

GOJO can't accept his crush on his good friends lil sis. Needs space from u since he can't pin ur feet behind ur ears and slurp ur cunt till he's full, so he decides to be a grade A dick. "Y/n, we need ta talk." Folds his long arms and shakes his head when u stomp ur foot and throw a hissy 😡 after he says u can't come on missions w/ him and Nanami anymore under pretenses that he just tryin to keep u safe. "Seriously Toru? U been ignorin me for how long? No reason, not a text or call. Now this shit?" Lean frame reclined against the schools entrance doors beside ur perplexed brother, kissable lips thinning dramatically. Pussy ofcourse is lookin anywhere but u. "'M not gettin into all that, y/n. Lets jus keep it professional since we're at work, yeah?" Nanami quirks a blonde brow, so sick and tired of the odd tension. "Gojo, it's fine. Y/n's got us. It's never been a problem before. We can-," ur brother tries to interject but Satoru huffs and storms off without another word. "Just stay this once. I'll talk to him." Ur bother squeezes u in a quick hug when ur eyes tear w/ frustration, kissing the top of ur head before jogging after the idiot.

GOJO feels bad when Nanami scolds him the next day about makin u cry. "U were an absolute terror yesterday. More than usual. I don't care why. U need to fix this Satoru. Whatever it takes." Satoru is exasperated af atp. Wholeheartedly doubts ur brother knows what he's saying. He can't even be in ur presence w/ out wondering what ur perfect tits would feel like in his mouth. 🤤 "Look.. We just need.. Space rn. Its nothin." Nanami slits his eyes, poppin Satoru in the back of the head. "I'm not an idiot, like u. Can't just ignore how she feels bout u.. How u feel about eachother." Satoru definitely engages his infinity, always expectin this convo w/ ur brother to be rather unpleasant. "How long have u known?" "How long have u loved her?" Satoru's stumped. So he's not as subtle as he believes? Shocker. 😮 "Longer than I care to admit rn. Kento.. It'll change everything." Nanami nods slow. "Just don't hurt her."

GOJO that's the one who ends up hurt when he arrives to the school for class but sees u trainin real up close and personal with the new instructor. The fucker 🖕🏽is all in ur grill, leanin his weight into u as he helps u "stretch". Feelin up ur thighs while pressin ur leg above ur head, his bulge pokin dangerously close to the center between ur legs. "How's that feel, sweetheart? Not too bad right?" Its a dagger to his heart 😭that ur all smiles and giggles. Satoru doesn't even realize he's shoved em off u, wailing on the guy over and over. "Fuckin bastard! Swear if u EVER fuckin touch what's mine again, I'll rip ur fuckin arms off!" Pummels him to a pulp and the fuckin loser is unconscious by the 2cnd punch but he doesnt stop. "Satoru, stop! Ur gonna kill him!" Which he wouldn't have realize if it weren't for u usin the cursed technique u share w/ Nanami, the precise hit blastin him back so hard Satoru has to dig his nail into the ground to catch his footing. U gaze at eachother in the longest stare down, tense af, chests heaving, both brewing with fiery burst of cursed energy. Thoughts racing a hundred miles per minute and Satoru just can't take this shit no more. Teleports inches away, yankin u to him w/ both hands on ur ass and smotherin u inna a hungry demanding kiss. But ur still pissed, pushin him back before slappin him across the face. "I should rip UR fuckin arms off for thinkin u could ghost me then slide thru to defend my honor!" Feelin a bit of justice as he rubs his pink cheek. "I know, I'm sorry y/n. I-," But u interrupt him with another hard smack. "Just.. Shut up, dummy. Dick first, talk later." You snarl, dragging him to his office by his uniform collar.

[fatuismooches]

I found your Dottore w playable reader stuff and it's been taking over my brain. nf!!but if you could give us a few more silly headcanons? Love ur writing btw 🥹

Dream Chaser's Blight: An ancient weapon that was once used to protect a certain scholar from ages past and to forge a path towards their shared dreams. He has carefully preserved it so that the wielder can use it once more... even though they can no longer perform that duty.

Fly or Fall: HP is increased by X%. When an Elemental Skill hits opponents or heals allies for the first time, the next character that is swapped to will have their CRIT Rate increased by X% and CRIT DMG increased by X%.

Weapon Description: The sound of his fellow peer's humming had become commonplace to the youth. In particular, it always happened when they were carefully cleaning their weapon after a battle, mostly with Ruin Machines that needed to be dismantled with minimal damage... occasionally other unscrupulous people. At the beginning of their budding relationship, the grumpy scholar paid little attention to their fiddling, but as of late, he had taken notice of how his partner's usually tender hands glided along the weapon with ease. The lovely scholar quickly noticed with a smile and inquired of him:

"What, are you interested in my expert skills now? Or- don't tell me, you wish to learn?"

The man clicked his tongue in false disinterest, to which his companion chuckled. They beckoned him further, agreeing that teaching him some basic combat would be wise. After all, despite his high intelligence getting him out of ninety-nine percent of situations, the one percent was certainly something he should plan for. However, unbeknownst to the young man's lover, perhaps he felt a twinge in his chest at the sight of their occasional cuts and bruises. Regardless, before he could finish his thought, something was hurled at him and he had mere moments to catch it.

His so-called beloved had thrown their weapon at him out of nowhere and he could hardly hold it up, all while they were laughing. They just wanted to test his reaction time, they reasoned, sauntering up to him and then relieving him of the weapon's weight, easily maneuvering it to their will.

"Why, you can hardly hold it up, can you? Too heavy, eh? Unsurprising, I know there's a reason I have to haul your items around... but don't worry too much. Until you obtain the powers of the Gods... anyone who hurts my ███ will have to answer to me. But even after, they still will!"

However, an unlived eternity came with nearly insurmountable change for the man's once cheery classmate. Having not picked up a weapon in centuries, the promise was lost to time.

But one day the tired soul questioned their darling, surprised that he had held on to their centuries-old weapon, which had somehow not decayed by now. In turn, he responded that he had preserved all of their belongings from long ago as best as he could. Their weapon in particular was kept in pristine condition, remembering all the opportunities it provided for him. A glimmer of excitement appeared in his love's eyes as they asked if they could hold the weapon once more, to which he hesitantly agreed. But it had hardly made it into his beloved's hands before they nearly toppled over with the weight.

"W-Was it always that heavy...?"

The patient's question was only met with silent sadness and fury from the doctor.

[dalishborne]

misc. headcanons:

my current thoughts are that revie hasn't actually killed anyone before - at least not intentionally. the first time she's done enough intentional harm to kill was during the attack on her clan that killed her keeper, even so that was in self defence. HOWEVER i do think she is the sort to be willing to kill out of protection and revenge. it's never her first course of action but it's something she can be driven to do under the right circumstances.

if she chose to kill for revenge, i don't think she'd make it a quick thing. i can only think of her avenging, say, a fallen clan member for example. a loved one. i think she would drag out the killer's death for as long as she could.

as one of the inquisitor's part members, revie is probably extremely squishy lol. at least at first. she casts some pretty noice barriers & her healing abilities are sweet but someone's gonna have to watch her back while she's keeping an eye on everyone else. (she does, ofc, have some offence abilities but it's more the lack of battle practice having to fend off so many foes at once, etc. but i imagine he has to learn, and quickly, through her travels. i imagine she does become stronger with experience.)

switching gears! revie picked up sewing/tailoring in her youth, mostly because the clan needs to be resourceful, but she found that quite enjoys sewing her own clothes. i imagine she takes a lot of interest in the way she presents herself, so she intentionally dresses well and perhaps even stylishly by dalish standards (?) - most of her outfits are made by her or are hand-me-downs that she's fixed up for herself. nice fabric is always a lovely gift for her.

probably finds orlesian fashion absolutely fascinating though it may not be her cup of tea.

she also loves applying makeup on herself and others though she doesn't do it often at all. she has a small collection of pigments (i'm gonna say some are probably not skin-safe but they don't know that) but would love to get her hands on some more.

if she is wearing makeup on a daily basis, it's likely at most just something like kajal/kohl (powdered eyeliner that's applied with a stick applicator) applied the night before/slept on and the excess washed off in the morning. it'd give off a soft smokey look.

definitely collects jewelry, whether gifted, bought or handmade, and takes v good care of them (organized neatly in boxes and whatnot)

doesn't enjoy the pain of piercing/tattoos hence why she has minimal piercings. dreads when the clan-mother tells her she has earned more vallaslin bc big ouch (she is proud of her vallaslin! she just! wants it to not hurt!!)

[foreverunraveling]

Is it just me, or does Young Royals really love to scare us, lull us into a false sense of security, and then pull the rug out from underneath us (in a way that's much worse than the original threat)?

For example, you see August clocking Wille leaving the movie before Simon in episode 2.

You (if you weren't too distracted by the scene itself) might have worried that he might show up when they were having their first kiss there. But he didn't. The show consciously created that tension and then relieved it as a foreshadowing of the much worse version of that to come later.

That tension is recreated at the end of episode 4 when August is shown outside a window at Forest Ridge.

There's a brief moment of relief--he's at Alex's window, not Wille's. While you know deep down where this has to be going, you still have a kernel of hope. And then even when he does make it to Wille's room, you can't tell it's a boy (let alone Simon) for five full seconds. Hope tries to stay alive. We all know how it ends, though--that tension snaps right back into our faces when August spots Wille and Simon moments later.

This happens on a different scale with Wille and Simon's planned weekend together in episode 3. When Wilhelm tells Simon that August will be staying at Forest Ridge, that introduces a tension of "will they get their weekend together?"

That tension of "will they get their weekend together" is relieved when Wille asks if he can come to Simon's in Bjarstad, only to AGAIN snap right back into our faces when a much bigger problem surfaces--Erik dies. So, they don't get their weekend anyways.

Hell, there's even a hint of this in episode 2 when August walks in on Wilhelm looking at Simon's Instagram before rowing practice. He doesn't actually see what Wille was doing, though--so it's okay--and he ends up taking a call from Erik.

In another way, this happens with Wilhelm and Felice's relationship from season 1 to season 2. She initially kisses him in episode 3, and we worry that he might just go with it. He doesn't, though. What a relief. In the next episode, though, once he's crown prince, Wilhelm is publicly flirting with Felice (despite her relationship with August) over how "cute" she looks in a video. But our worries about this fade with the release of the video and Felice's support into season 2...

Until they actually almost hook up in the third episode, that is.

And it's definitely not limited to Simon and Wille and their relationships. It comes up with Sara and August too. When he initially kisses her in episode 4 of season 1, you might worry that maybe Sara will respond in a less-than-healthy manner, or that she'll keep what happened to herself instead of telling Felice. Sara rebuffs him, though, and tells Felice about what happened in the stables later that episode.

Tension introduced and relieved, so we move on. But then in the final episode of season 1, Sara goes to August's room to confront him about the video. And she ends up kissing him. In season 2, they end up being in AN ENTIRE SECRET RELATIONSHIP that Sara keeps from Felice. The original fear that you might have had about August twisting his way into Sara's heart was well-founded, it seems.

There are also smaller examples. Like when you see Erik driving incredibly fast in episode 1, or when you see Wilhelm riding on the scooters with Simon, Rosh, and Ayub in episode 2, some people worried there might be some kind of accident. (He was going hands-free, for fuck's sake.)

Well, in both of those instances, everything turned out okay, while Erik's actual offscreen accident in episode 3 obviously did not.

The anxiety about Marcus catching Wilhelm and Simon kissing at the Valentine's party is momentarily alleviated when it looks like him and Simon are going inside, but then Marcus turns around and sees Wille (not to mention he sees Simon eyeing Wille throughout the entire song and during the applause).

Let's not even get started on the drugs. We thought that storyline was resolved, gone, done away with after Alexander was seemingly expelled during season 1.

But then he's back in season 2, and the question of whether anyone will tell Alex that Wilhelm was the one to pin the blame on him arises. It seems a minor issue--given that Alexander wasn't actually expelled, and he seems to like Wille, we don't necessarily expect it to matter all too much. In episode 6, though, the "drug thing" is back at the top of our list of problems. We thought that this had been dealt with! That we'd gotten past it!

But it's worse than before--there's a pill bottle with Simon's father's name on it, and August has it! August has a potential witness behind him (Alex) and is threatening to tell not just the school, but the cops!

Don't worry, though, the tension is relieved when Simon tells Wille he's not going to report August to the police... for approximately six seconds until we see that Sara is reporting August instead.

Anyways, following this pattern, you can draw some really interesting potential conclusions about season 3 based on some of the big tension reliefs that have occurred over the past two seasons. Not saying that any of these will happen, but I'm preparing myself for anything:

Wilhelm has some sort of drug OD—like Simon (and some of the audience, probably) worried on the night of the Society party. This is one I'm really hoping doesn't come up.

Wilhelm actually kills August—when Wilhelm puts that gun down, it's a massive relief for most of us (also the characters present). This would just be... wild. And would explain Omar's tweets about how crazy the season is, I guess.

Sara outs Stella's crush on Fredricka, like she was threatening to do when Felice was moving out of their room at the Manor House. Istg if she does this I might lose it.

Wilhelm's mother dies. This was definitely one idea on some people's minds when Wilhelm takes that call that turns out to be about Erik in episode 3.

Wilhelm actually abdicates. This is definitely a threat made in season 2 that was later assuaged. I'm pulling for Wilhelm taking the throne only to abolish the monarchy. That might be a bit too optimistic on my part, though.

ALTERNATIVELY, August gets the throne. They teased us with this when Wilhelm almost didn't give the speech. August was literally walking up to the podium when Wille leapt up to take his place and momentarily rescued us from the notion that August was going to be ascending the throne.

Wilhelm and/or Simon and/or Sara get pulled from Hillerska. After the video, both Simon and Sara were potentially not going to return to the school. Simon was even late for the first day back, when he missed the choir performance. And Wille was almost physically removed from the school in episode 2 of season 2. Given the statement in the trailer about the school potentially shutting down... this one doesn't seem like too much of a long shot.

It's hard to say what any of this could mean for Simon/Wilhelm's relationship—I mean, in season 1, we had about six instances where we thought we'd get Simon and Wilhelm together and originally didn't (the first music room scene, the conversation after Erik's memorial, the second music room scene/drug situation, the video leak, Wilhelm LYING about the video leak).... the reasons kept getting worse and worse, until there's a release of tension when Wille says he won't deny the video—only for it to be far more crushing when he does deny it having promised otherwise. It seems like there's a new, bigger problem every time they turn around. So far, they've overcome all of the obstacles they've faced (honestly, I don't know how)... but I can't imagine that they're about to be facing an easy course based on that trailer.

Anyways, these are my meandering thoughts about some ways that we can try to guess at what we might have coming based on the show's patterns and its use of foreshadowing. Like I said, I'm just trying to mentally prepare myself for some of the wild-ass shit that might go down. So these are some crazy scenarios based on a few fake-outs that we've had so far. I'm still hoping that they don't take the smallest, most hopeful bits of seasons 1 and 2 and crush them in season 3....

[9ofspades]

It’s disability pride month, and if you are disabled in the U.S. from Long Covid I want you to know that you’re not alone, and you’re valid in whatever you feel. Whether that’s sorrow at your new problems or rage at society for failing you, you are valid, and it is truly messed up that society is continuing to fail you.

[bisexualcroissant]

realising that in the alt timeline there's no hextech bec vi died, but also because jayce likely went through with jumping off that ledge because viktor never stopped him there. and jayvik's bond never develops because again viktor never stops jayce from jumping and vice versa jayce can never do the same for viktor.

realising that ekko and heimerdinger were sent to the alt timeline because they were both alive there. whereas jayce wasn't because in that world without hextech, he was most likely not alive. instead jayce was flung across time to the far future in a timeline where vi didn't die and he and viktor developed hextech, because only in this timeline is future viktor able to realise the consequence of what he'd done and thus kickstart the chain of events that would get jayce to help him destroy it and show current viktor the price he'd pay by pursuing perfection.

in a weird way it's almost relieving to know that even in this "ideal" alternative timeline where everyone seems so much happier and zaun a much better place to live, all of this good stuff came with its costs. losing vi (a necessity to show the cost of the hextech), a world without jayce (no development of hextech—either he successfully jumped, gave up on his plans, or imprisoned after the accident), and possibly a viktor whose life would be shorter (but then again maybe not, because no jinx, no attack). plus jayce and viktor's bond would never develop in this timeline, and they would never be able to save each other there.

which is why jayce was sent to the post-evolution wasteland future instead. because in that timeline he stayed alive to develop the hextech that would go onto be used for machine herald viktor's evolution et cetera. it's crazy how intertwined jayvik's lives are, across timelines, across dimensions. future viktor giving child-jayce the key to stopping the evolution, jayce who would grow up to meet viktor, viktor who would stop jayce from jumping off the ledge, jayce who would stop viktor from doing the same, both necessities to keep pursuing their work, thus leading into machine herald viktor, with jayce being the only person in any possible world who could stop him.

in some strange way it almost makes it easier to stomach that the main timeline (the timeline in which the events of arcane takes place) is so flawed and fucked up, because even that seemingly much happier, more peaceful world came with a very heavy price.

[aropride]

i know objectively that people have different experiences with like. temperature. but 90ºf is Objectively Too Hot. like i cannot envision a world where thats an enjoyable temperature and im convinced everyone who says they enjoy it is Lying . like i cannot imagine a Type Of Guy who honestly enjoys that temperature. i am not doing a bit Do not try to change my mind i am right and perfect also. #black and white thinking

[icewindandboringhorror]

"We can get through this by working together, reach out to your friends, community is all we have, a social network will be your security in the world, now is the time to lean on others!"

I do agree, and it's scientifically sound (pretty sure there is data about how people with better social networks live longer and etc) but also....augh..... what about the severe social issues, difficulty to leave the house, physical issues which lead to like zero socialization energy a majority of the time, etc. etc. Social support can be a replacement for structural support, but.. I guess I just wish it didn't have to be. Community is extremely difficult to build, even moreso if you're someone who has issues with social cues or group conversations or even just being around others in the first place. And blah, nuance, of course I'm just complaining or maybe being too negative or maybe misunderstanding, but, I hardly have the energy to brush my hair once every 2 months.. how am I supposed to maintain a wide social network and be active in a Community and Join Groups lol... sometimes it kind of feels like "er.. well if thats my only option then...... ruh roh". It's overwhelming

[awakefor48hours]

Oh, I wasn’t evil, I just spent hours inside, stressed out about midterms, not eating a proper diet, over worked my body, and mainly interacted with people I do not like.

[donnyclaws]

I was gonan make a post apologizing for lack of regular art but I feel like jts already clear im sporadic and in and out of it bc chronic pain and circumstances. So for now I'm gonna hibernate, get my health steady again, deal with money issues, and art will happen when it happens.

[strmpt]

update: finished all of my assignments on tuesday night. forever. im actually really done with school. i graduate on saturday omggggggggg

im so fucking burnt out. it will probably be a while before im like. okay again lmfao at least as far as drawing. i miss it but wowzers. i dont have it in me.

but anyway rrraaaaaahhhhhhh graduation rraaaaahhhhhhhhh

[mars-ipan]

kinda funny when ur brain’s gut instinct is repression so you just kinda watch while your stress and emotions get bottled and corked and the whole time ur just like “that is going to bite me in the ass so bad later but i can’t seem to open the damn bottles without getting glass everywhere so! guess we’ll wait”

[ruvviks]

i love cyberware. it's so intimate