#like it would make sense for him to notice and figure it out

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Look Outside Posting Part 5.5

Something fishy is going on around here. Hold onto your asses, this is going to be my most earth-shattering theory yet.

The blue people are few, but they are present just about everywhere, and they're unmistakable when they're still human. Papineau. Xaria. Jeanne. Possibly Mutt (who's bluer in his overworld sprite). A suspicious number of blue mutants.

I don't think this can be wholly attributed to lighting or artstyle. The lighting is a little bluer in the hallway, for instance, but people who aren't blue are still not blue there when the door is opened. In the overworld, blue party members are still that color. The difference is pretty stark in the scenes where blue and nonblue people are side by side.

Take Claire as an example - she's partially blue, found in the same place as Jean-Pierre, and her not-blue patches are the same tone as him, but he isn't blue in the slightest.

What's more, it can't be a Visitor thing at all. Papineau and Xaria are not witnesses. Everybody finds it totally unremarkable and not worth commenting on - except, crucially, for Roaches, who sees fit to call Papineau "bIG BluE mAN". They can all see it, it's just NORMAL.

Okay. People can just be blue in Look Outside world. Why not? I mean, the astronomers have pretty unusual eye colors. It's just a thing that happens, I guess.

......but like, why?

I'm sure we can figure this out. Let's see now...

Blue skin is not unheard of in the real world, though it's waaay less common than "multiple normalized instances per apartment building".

The first way this has been known to happen is methemoglobinemia, a condition that's famously associated with the Blue Fugates, a Kentucky family from the 1800s who carried multiple copies of the gene for it.

With this condition, you produce a lot of methemoglobin - a faulty version of hemoglobin that incorporates iron ions in a different state than they're supposed to be, making it unable to bind to oxygen and do its job. The blood of someone with high methemoglobin is brownish, and the skin can take on a blue tone. Levels higher than that also cause adverse symptoms like headaches, seizures, and poor coordination.

This is unlikely to be the culprit, though. The last "blue" Fugate ceased to be blue in the 1900s, as by then they weren't as isolated and were getting medical care that cleared up their symptoms. Even if the gene was extremely common in Look Outside, the medication that treats it is readily available. The striking blue skin tone also seems to mostly happen with white people, and it wouldn't look anywhere near as noticeable with the majority POC residents of the apartment.

The other real-world possibility is something like argyria.

Pictured here is Paul Karason, a man best known for his extensive use of colloidal silver, an alternative medicine, in the belief that it treated a variety of health conditions. He's the most famous example of this condition, having taken it for about two decades.

Silver compounds are pretty harmless as far as we know, but taking them long-term causes them to be build up in deposits in the skin, gradually shifting it to a blue-grey.

It being a common individual choice in the setting would make some sense, and the gradual build-up would explain why some like Claire and Papineau aren't totally blue yet. (It might also mean Monty has it too, as he's sort of mildly bluish-grey?) Depending on the cultural context for it, I could see that being something Papineau would do as a traditional thing or for similar "health" reasons, and Xaria and Monty might do as a counterculture thing.

I don't think we have enough to say it's this one specific substance, of course. The shade doesn't really match exactly, Xaria is awfully young to have been taking colloidal silver for years, and I don't think there's any other signs that Look Outside was some kind of alternate timeline prior to the cataclysm.

But I do think the mechanism, normalized use of some substance that builds up in the skin, goes some way toward a possible explanation here.

[lovelybucky1]

okay so dad!matt is rotting my brain so how about this: matt is older than reader and somehow she comes into his life, whether she be a client or the daughter of a client/friend. he takes her on almost like a protégé, maybe given her an internship at the firm. he tells himself it's because he wants to protect her like he would a daughter but in secret he can't stop thinking about bending her over his desk.

he is so ashamed of his feelings and hide them very well but quickly notices that she trusts him "like a father".

she on the other hand is quite attracted to him but she also sees him as a protective father figure and feels ashamed of her attraction because "that's almost her dad"

lots of pining and being confused by their moral compasses and immense attraction and need for the other person and ahhhhhh

- 🪆

i love this so much oh my god

you’re the daughter of a long time and well paying client of matt’s. when the client asked if his daughter could intern at murdock and mcduffie, it was hard for matt to say no. you don’t bite he hand that feeds, after all. he was worried about having a spoiled young girl from harvard law working under him, seeing as he specializes in helping the less fortunate, but that turned out to not be his biggest problem.

you’re sweet, kind, humble, and devastatingly sexy. devastating because you’re in your early twenties and he’s pushing forty.

he tried so hard to keep it professional, but you were insistent on getting to know him on a personal level and he couldn’t resist. after you became closer than the typical boss/employee, he tried to friendzone you, or more accurately, dad-zone you. he took on a mentor role and constantly called you kid, trying to put that space between the two of you. no matter how many times he reminded himself of your age, your inexperience, your innocence,he couldn’t help but imagine you bent over his desk.

despite how perceptive he usually his, he had no idea you felt the same. his own feelings were clouding his judgement and he didn’t realize how your heart races when you see him, how it skips when he called you kid in that warm, gentle tone. you didn’t mean to fall for your boss. you know he’s way too old for you and you’ve even referred to him as your work dad, but late at night, your fantasies always include him.

you started to dress up more for work which feels ironic because you work for a blind man, but you don’t know what else to do. somehow he seems to have taken notice. your skirts are shorter, still professional, but they show off more of your legs. you bought a new perfume, something sweet and alluring. you even started wearing your hair different, just to get his attention.

the two of you reach your boiling point late one evening while you’re helping him work on his opening statement. he had asked you to read it back to him, partly to catch errors, but mostly because he wanted to listen to your voice. you’re sitting close, your voice soft in the small, quiet room. this time, matt is paying attention to all of his senses and catches how your breath hitches when his thigh makes contact with yours.

tension is thick in the air, confessions sit heavy on the tips of your tongues.

“matt-”

“don’t.”

“but-“

“we can’t.”

it’s as close as you can get to confronting it without putting words to your feelings. no i’m too old, i’m your boss, i’m friends with your father. just, we can’t.

as much as it kills you, you understand. in fact, you understand so well that you begin to date another lawyer at the firm. he’s a first year from harvard, and despite being in the program at the same time, you never saw him around campus. he’s exceptional, a literal genius, and he treats you well. he’s great, except he’s not matt.

its been two months and you’re working late with matt again, scanning case files in his office. at this hour, in this small of a space, nothing good can come. you’re close again, touching at the ankles, thighs, and almost the shoulder.

“sweetheart-“

“don’t.”

“please-“

“we can’t.”

no i’m too young, i’m with someone else, you’re my boss. just we can’t.

“i don’t care,” he breathes.

he grabs your face and kisses you, lips gentle but full of passion, longing, and something darker. something you’ve both been pushing down since you’ve started working together.

“matt,” you gasp.

“i can’t stop myself,” he mumbles against your lips.

you have no idea the devil that hides behind the mask of matt murdock.

[chapel-of-rizztual]

Awwwhh pack bonding time :’)

Cw: wax play? Inappropriate use of a candle?

Perpetua was told he’d have to do something drastic to get the ghouls to respect him. He’d been around ghouls before, the ministry he’d grown up in had ghouls, but these are his brothers ghouls and they were fiercely loyal to him. He was told that the two Quints and the earth ghoul would probably be the easiest, they’re calm and have been through a change of leadership before. Dewdrop specifically would be a problem. If he got his respect the rest would probably follow. He decided to throw a dinner party for the ghouls, his mothers flair for them had been past down to him and he’s honestly missed them. It would be a great opportunity to get all the ghoul in one place at the same time so het could get to know them as a pack, find out the pack dynamics. He already had the perfect centrepiece in mind.

He ushered the ghouls into the dining hall, clapping excitedly behind them.

“You will love it my ghouls!” He ignores the collective eye roll and the shuffling of feet. “I spent all day preparing something nice for you.”

The small hum in response was anything but positive but he wasn’t going to let them deter him. He knew once they ghouls had seen what he had planned they’d all love it.

The first few ghouls stop in the doorway in shock, looking back at him with wide disbelieving eyes. “Don’t just stand there, go in, all of you in.” He shoos the rest in, closing the door behind him. “Well?” He gestures to the table in front of them all. “Do you like it?”

In front of them is a sturdy dark wooden table, with sturdy wooden chairs to match. The table was set for ten people with delicate china plates adorned with different flowery patterns swirled over them, surrounded by different flowers and candles to decorate the table. The centre is what was catching everyone’s attention. In the centre was Dewdrop. Fully naked, kneeling with his wrists tied to his ankles so his ass was forced high into the air. It wouldn’t have been anything noteworthy, or particularly out of the ordinary for Dew if it wasn’t for the lit candle sticking out of his ass. It was one of the long white ones, one that was used in the chapel and was definitely stolen from there. It was long, long enough that it stuck about five inches out of Dew without knowing how much was inside him. It wasn’t particularly thick, only about two fingers wide, barely enough to stretch him open but the heat from the small flame was enough to make intense. There was already a few beads of wax that had slid down the candle and pooled into Dews sensitive skin. He’d already been here like this for a while.

Aether panics a little, Dews mouth wasn’t gaged so he would be able to speak of his displeasure or discomfort if he wanted but the distant far away look in his eyes was worrying. He taps into his quintessence to feel for Dews emotions, explaining to find panic, maybe fear and a cry for help but instead he found, well, not much really. There was a sense of calm with an underlying horniness but not much of anything else. Whatever this was, Dew had clearly consented. He relaxes, giving a small nod to the rest of the tense group letting them all know it as okay. They all visibly relaxed, the tension in the air shifting into something hotter and more intense.

“Isn’t he beautiful?” Perpetua asks the group as he walks around the table so he’s behind Dew. “My masterpiece.” He gestures to Dew.

The whole group nods dumbly.

“How-“ Aether clears his throat when he hears his voice break. “How did you manage this?” He gestures to Dew on the table. “Dew is…well he’s Dewdrop.”

“Oh, it was easy really. He just need a firm hand. Isn’t that right, Dew?” He brings his hand down onto Dews ass and only then does Aether notice the red handprints glowing on each cheek. He’d already figured out Dews weakness.

The slap makes Do gasp and arch up into it. Unfortunately for him it jostled the candle inside him, making the hot wax that pooled in the top drip down the length of the candle until it gets to his sensitive stretched rim. It soaks into the skin, setting and hardening as it does, solidifying around him. Dew squeaks, the feeling of the hot wax on him making his wet eyes roll back.

“Holy shit.” The little quint next to Aether gasps, his eyes wide, his pupils already blown as he follows the bead of wax down the candle. He palms at himself, not very subtlety trying to relieve some of the pressure. Perpetua thinks his name is Phantom. It doesn’t really matter, he already has plans for the little ghoul.

“Please, sit. All of you sit.” He gestures to all of the chairs. “We have a long night ahead of us.”

There’s a sound of chairs scraping against the floor as the ghoul obey him. He stops Phantom from pulling his own chair out.

“Not you. I have something special for to sit.”

Phantom gasps softly and lets himself be lead by the hand to the end of the table. He gets pulled into the older man’s lap, his eyes widened when he feels how hard he is under his ass. “We get the best view in the house.” Perpetua whispers into his ear as he squeezes the little ghouls thighs.

They’re head on with Dews ass. Phantom can see a bead of wax roll over Dews taint and over his balls, stopping and solidifying about halfway down. He nods dumbly, unable to take his eyes away from the scene in front of him.

The table wobbles as everyone moves around it making the candle inside Dew move and drip more hot wax into him. Some lands on his rim, already coated in wax, some makes a river down and drips down into his balls making Dew gasp and his cock twitch.

“Awwhh look.” Swiss coos out, pointing at Dew. He point to his cock, hard and pressed up again his belly, leaking a steady stream of precum onto his belly and the table. “He’s got his own little drippy candle.”

The earth ghoul next to him rolls his eyes and nudges him with his shoulder, but there’s a barely contained smile in his face and a blotchy red blush on his cheeks. A ghoulette at the opposite end of the table purposefully shakes the table with an evil grin on her face making wax splash from the candle into Dew. Some of lands in little pearls on Dews spanked red and already sensitive ass. He lets out a hiccuped sob feeling it land on him, tears spilling from his eyes and onto the table.

Perpetua can’t stop smiling. This is what he wanted. The tension between them had disappeared and turned into something much more pleasant, something lighter and brighter. And hotter

“My ghouls.” He announces. “Tonight we feast in the name of our dark Lord.” He points to Dew. “And worship at his unholy altar.” Dew moans feeling all eyes burning onto him. Perpetua continues. “Tonight we make new bonds, in new loyalty and new leadership.”

The ghouls around him nod in solidarity with him, agreeing with him. Phantom purrs into his neck, not so subtlety grinding down onto him. He flashes them all a smile and Aether swears he could see his white eye glowing but it’s gone within a blink of an eye. “Feast, my ghouls. Feast.” He commands. And feast they do.

[fourorchid]

“Obedient Thing”

— Chapter 4 ��

Description: The monotony of your day to day life as a lab assistant is suddenly interrupted upon meeting Viktor, a researcher at the academy, who has a gaze that pulls you apart and knows exactly how to piece you back together. His voice, his actions—they’re dizzying, frustrating—but madly addictive. Curiosity and happenstance seem to render you incapable of avoiding him as you come to terms with the newfound feelings he’s unintentionally (or maybe intentionally) stirred within you.

Chapter Index:

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4 (here)

— Viktor x fem!Reader | ~3.0k—

Content Warning: masturbation (fem!reader)

**If you are not 18+, please do not interact**

Disclaimer: Chapter four is out! I wasn’t sure how I felt about this chapter when I started but it grew on me hehe. And the next part is already in the works so stay tuned! As always, I appreciate any comments or feedback, Enjoy ~

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After the first instance of agreeing to work alongside Viktor, Jayce took it upon himself to send you off to Viktor whenever he felt necessary. His reasoning for doing so being a.) his research and Viktor’s research are of the same specialty and had a decent amount of overlap, b.) he knew Viktor had a tendency to overwork himself while also being resistant to asking for help, and c.) he loved to stir the pot. And this way you couldn’t get mad at him because the ball was technically in your court. No misleading or meddling here, just an opportunity and your choice to take it. Thankfully, it’s been a very rare occurrence as you both already have a lot on your own plate; but Jayce was still smug about it.

Meanwhile, you find the pull you wish you were strong enough to refuse becoming more tangible. Like there was an actual tether connecting you to Viktor—and it was only getting shorter. You just couldn’t get him out of your head. But then, the few times you found yourself in his presence, you were borderline incredulous. You couldn’t help it nor could you make any sense of it. You were hopeless.

As you pack up your belongings and wave goodbye to Jayce after a long Friday of test trials and data recording, you notice how hungry you are. Feeling particularly accomplished with the work you did this week, you decide to treat yourself to dinner at your favorite bistro in town.

Usually, you would order it to go but you figured it might be good to dine in today. Because sometimes you just need to take yourself out to dinner. Definitely not because you recently found out that Viktor also frequents this restaurant—of course not. Just some self-care in the form of french onion soup and a hot sandwich in nice dining ambience. Obviously.

You walk through the brisk evening air towards the restaurant with your mouth watering at the thought of the meal. As you enter, the cozy atmosphere wraps around you like a blanket, soothing the chill on your skin from outside. Thankfully, it’s not too busy despite it being a Friday evening and you are able to find a small empty table in the corner of the restaurant. You browse the menu, pretending you might try something new before settling on your usual paired with a glass of white wine. While you wait for your order to arrive, an equation from today’s testing was still nagging at your conscious. You move to take out your laptop to look over it again in the meantime when, suddenly, a familiar voice floats over the clatter of the restaurant.

“Hello, Miss y/n.” His demeanor is calm as he speaks. “May I?” Viktor asks to join you. As you look up at him to respond, you notice his eyes are almost mesmerizing in the dim, warm lighting of the restaurant.

You haven’t seen Viktor in a few weeks now and you naively assumed the break would help you be less affected by his sudden appearance—you were mistaken.

“Um, sure.” You nod, pausing after you speak. Viktor lowers himself into the seat across from you. “So are you following me around now?” You quip in feigned suspicion.

“No, not stalking—simply happenstance.” His tone is lighthearted as he leans his cane against the edge of the table. “Fate, perhaps.” He adds matter-a-factly. Something about his demeanor seems slightly more playful outside of the academy building.

“Right.” You let out a small unamused laugh at the notion.

You notice the waitress approaching your table as Viktor turns to provide his order. As he talks, you note how his side profile is especially sharp. You count the moles that are dotted across his face in such a delicate and almost precise way, a few more lead down his neck meeting his collar. Seemingly random, but such a perfect addition to his complexion that you start to believe every act in his creation must’ve been intentional by nature itself. And the way his voice resonated as he spoke was so deep and rich, alluring in a way that makes one too entranced to do anything besides listen. After a moment, the waitress whisks herself back to the kitchen and Viktor returns his attention to the conversation. You do your best to hide the fact that you had been blatantly staring.

“So—a skeptic, hm?” Viktor tsks. He looks at you giving way to that all-too-familiar inspecting gaze of his. “You don’t believe in fate then, Miss y/n?” He adds, amused.

“I don’t have enough evidence to come to a conclusion.” You explain flatly.

He raises an eyebrow at your response, clearly intrigued. "That is fair. I suppose nothing is really certain until you can prove it empirically, hm?" He leans back in his chair, his gaze stays on you as he continues. “Are you this analytical in all aspects of your life?” Viktor wears a nearly imperceptible grin as he points out your deflection.

You are caught off guard by Viktor’s ability to—once again—see right through you. “No, I just enjoy opposing you.” Your tone is sarcastic and almost childish as you respond.

“Do not threaten me with a good time, Miss y/n.” Despite his joking demeanor, his words have an edge that makes your stomach flip and your face become warmer. He gives you a knowing look.

After a pause, you cut through the tension as you begin to speak. “Why do you look at me like that?”

“And how is it that I look at you?” Viktor replies, unaware.

“Like you’ve got me all figured out.” You roll your eyes, acting as though frustration was to blame for your cheeks reddening.

“Well, that is because it’s not very difficult to decipher what you feel judging by how you look at me.” He speaks in a controlled manner, pretending to be indifferent to the fact that you are hanging on to his every word.

Intuition tells you it’s a trap. But it is a trap that is so incredibly tempting to fall into.

“And how do I look at you?” You take the bait.

Viktor breathes out a short hum before answering. "With curiosity—but there is something else there. Something deeper.” He pauses before deciding what word to choose.

“You look at me with a kind of...hunger."

His gaze becomes more intense as his words hang in the air between you. He leans forward on the table, his voice dropping to a low, rough cadence.

"It is okay to have an appetite, you know."

Before you can attempt to answer, the waitress returns with your orders in tow. The interruption is a welcome one, giving you a moment to compose yourself as the food is placed on the table.

Viktor pulls back a few inches, a small smirk forming on his face.

"It appears that fate is giving us a breather." He looks at you.

“It seems so.” You say, more tense than before.

The waitress leaves you both to your meal and you find yourself wishing she would come back, wanting any distraction that could act as a buffer between yourself and the man sat across from you.

You take a second to regroup, deciding to focus on the food in front of you instead. You want to deny Viktor’s observation but you are at a loss. As you both begin to eat, the clattering utensils and soft chatter of the restaurant around you fills the break in conversation. You find yourself staring mostly at your plate as you feel Viktor’s eyes trained on you. Observing. Calculating. You try to give him nothing to work with but as you are starting to gather, he is rather adept at reading between the lines. His voice drags your attention up from your meal as he speaks.

“You are awfully quiet, Miss y/n.” He notes.

You swallow as you take your napkin to your lips before speaking. “Would you prefer I talk with my mouth full?” You snip back.

Viktor nods. “A fair point.” He takes a second, looking up as he thinks before continuing his answer.

“I suppose I would rather your mouth be used differently, yes.”

His expression darkens ever so slightly as the words fall from his lips; coated in filthy insinuation but spoken so casually—almost unassuming if you weren’t paying attention. Every nerve in your body catches fire at his response. You clear your throat, hoping to collect yourself before you speak.

“You know—I don’t think I’m the only one with an appetite.” You mock Viktor’s choice word from earlier through clenched teeth. You try to pivot the spotlight onto him but the attempt was shaky at best.

He quirks an eyebrow at your statement. He sets his fork down to clasp his hands in front of himself on the table as though he were about to negotiate a deal.

"I never said you were." He concedes.

You take a sip from your wine glass, the dryness coats your throat as Viktor continues.

“Though, I am not sure you can keep up with mine." He purrs the taunt in a low rumble. You choke a bit at the implication.

“You seem to have a habit of assuming things about me.” Your tone is biting and sharp as you respond. You take another spoonful of your food to distract yourself from the feelings swirling in your stomach.

He chuckles, clearly enjoying this back-and-forth you two are having.

"Well, to my credit, I think I have hit the mark a few times."

His gaze locks on yours as he continues.

"But by all means—let's prove me wrong then."

His voice drops, his tone taking on a sinful quality.

Your confidence wavers at the challenge. Viktor is rather forward but the words he chooses leave too much—or perhaps too little—to the imagination. It’s arousing and frustrating all at the same time. You don’t back down, but your heart thumps in your ears as you counter.

“And how do you suppose we do that?” You hold eye contact as you provoke Viktor into actually admitting what he’s implying. To your surprise—he does exactly that.

“Simple.” He begins, leaning forward. His voice is barely above a whisper, sending a chill down your spine.

“I’d take you right here, on this table.”

He leans back, his eyes never leaving yours. His disposition is cool and composed despite the fever of his answer. You try not to let Viktor’s words have power over you but it’s too late. Heat concentrates in your abdomen at the explicit image he had painted. You glance around the restaurant, suddenly reminded of the public setting you were in.

“Oh really? In front of everyone here?” You choke out a half-baked objection, finding the notion entirely absurd.

His gaze is fixed on you as he listens, unfazed.

"You are right, that would be quite the public display." He admits. His eyes trace over the features of your face, ending on your lips before returning to meet your stare.

"But it still made you feel a certain way, did it not?" Viktor points out, saying what you had left unspoken.

Your body betrays you in its response, the muscles in your thighs flexing unconsciously, your breath hitching almost imperceptibly. His words swim through your head. He’s absolutely shameless, you think. A scoff flies from your throat as you shake your head in disbelief, trying to ignore the warmth spreading over every inch of your skin.

But Viktor catches it all, every micro-reaction, both conscious and subconscious. He takes your silence as your answer.

“Oh? tapping out already?” He taunts, his tone mocking concern. A soft smile perches on his face, in direct contrast to the lascivious things coming from his mouth.

You feel yourself reach a boiling point. “And, pray tell, what makes you so sure you can deliver? You spit out, your voice tight as you question Viktor’s abilities in a pitiful attempt to punch up.

A low chuckle escapes him, his confidence unshaken by your challenge. He leans forward a fraction more, the space between you becoming increasingly intimate.

"I do not make promises I can't keep, Miss y/n." He responds simply, his gaze never wavering from yours.

You aren’t sure if it’s the sirenesque nature of his voice or the sincerity held in his stare, but his statement rings entirely genuine to you—even in the heat of the current moment. You’re not sure if this quells the sensation pooling in your gut or feeds it.

Then, as if reprieve granted by the universe itself, the waitress returns to ask if you both had finished your meal. Suddenly, you remember that oxygen exists and that you should probably breathe some of it.

“Yes, thank you.” You move to fetch your wallet but Viktor beats you to it. Before you can object she flits away with his card to get the bill.

“I can pay for my own meal.” You say weakly. Your mind has reached its threshold for clever banter. And it’s not like Viktor seemed to follow typical social convention when he was talking to you either.

“I know you can.” Viktor replies, stern but theres a softness in it as he smiles gently. Like he was appreciating your determination in defying him but also not denying your autonomy. It had you entirely disarmed.

“I don’t intend on being indebted to you.” You hiss, the words come out as a slight insult to Viktor’s character—something you didn’t really believe but couldn’t help yourself from saying.

“I do not do debts, Miss y/n.” Viktor replies simply, his voice steady and firm. And you know it’s true. But at this point, you were so drunk off him, you might fall for anything.

You nod, accepting his answer without argument. Once the bill with Viktor’s card returned, you both stand up and begin pulling your coats on to leave. Viktor finishes himself and moves to help you, holding the coat open behind you as you push your arms through the sleeves. You don’t even object. The proximity has you so warm now, you find you might need to actually take the coat off instead. The smell of his cologne fills your senses, it’s clean but distinctly masculine. Before pulling away, he leans over your shoulder, his breath tickles your cheek as he speaks in a low, almost whisper.

“If you are still hungry, Miss y/n, you know where to find me.”

To punctuate his point, his hand grazes your waist with intention before pulling away. You shiver at his words and barely-there touch. Your entire being thrums with need like you’ve never known.

You both leave the restaurant, heading your separate ways. The friction from your legs as they rub together while you walk is torturous, even for the short distance it takes to get back to your apartment. You can feel how worked up he had gotten you from just his words alone.

You don’t know much about Viktor, but what you have learned so far are two things.

One, control comes naturally to him. It’s not a matter of force—it’s innate, effortless. A calm, calculated sort of power. Intimidating—teasing, even—but not unkind.

And two, you are in denial. The way it made you feel was exhilarating in the most unexpected but impossible-to-ignore way. So much so that you’ve been pushing back on it with all your might out of discomfort, possibly fear as well.

There was a point in your life up to now where you believed if you didn’t call something by name, it had no real power. A ridiculous notion—but it had gotten you this far.

But feelings—feelings like those you were experiencing right now—were real, named or not. Spoken or not. Understood or not. And what you felt was something that threatened to be acted upon or else it would become maddening.

And with each passing second, you start to care less about it making sense.

You close the door to your apartment behind you. Immediately, you take yourself to your bed, not even shedding your clothes to lay down as you reached lower beneath the hem of your skirt. With no abandon, you begin to satiate the burning inside of you.

Your fingers reach to the heat already pooled there, coating yourself in the evidence of what he could do to you. Your fingers trace the sensitive spot that sends a bolt of unrestrained pleasure through you. You repeat the motion, moving faster. You feel yourself get close already, but you pull back. You want to draw it out—like he would.

After a moment, you grow impatient, and you lead your hand to your entrance. You feel yourself buzzing with a new kind of need, plunging one finger in to start, then another. You draw them in out slowly at first, taking the time to savor the idea. But you crave more as the hunger inside you screams his name. You even let the word slip past your lips while you tremble in a desperate and pitiful attempt to feel the real thing as your fingers reach as deep as they can go. They move hard and fast in and out of you, almost as if you weren’t in control of it. You are so close—so close, the pace you keep yourself to is unbearable, overstimulating; but nowhere near enough. You whine and writhe as you keep yourself on the edge.

Eventually, you can’t take it anymore. The coil he had helped build inside you suddenly snaps of your own doing. You shake violently as your release ripples through you in hot, heavy waves. As small whimpers and moans escape you, his voice, his actions, that knowing gaze—they are all seared into your memory. And you have found yourself in complete and utter surrender.

What else was there to do besides submit?

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

[tc-lp]

Doing a rewatch of the full episodes (instead of just skipping to the Ian and Mickey scenes) is really paying off. I'm noticing so many new things this time around.

Like in 3x11 when Ian has his drunken break down at Mickey's wedding. He says to Lip, basically "You try watching the person you love marry someone else". And like. Lip already did that?

Last year Karen married Jody. Lip was drinking beer, sitting on the curb across her house, then crashed her wedding reception.

And Ian knows this, but I guess he's drunk and wallowing, so it makes sense that he's not thinking about Lip's love life.

Though, it makes me a little annoyed at Lip's comment in 3x12 where he's like "Good thing about falling for Mickey is you can always find someone better". It's a shitty thing to say full stop about someone your brother said he loves. But also, Lip physically fought Ian the last time he talked shit about Karen...

I feel like Ian would probably have punched Lip, if he wasn't so focused on escaping.

The only thing I can think of is that after figuring out Mandy tried to kill Karen, Lip is eager to be rid of the Milkovich family. So he's trying to shove Ian into cutting ties, maybe?

EDIT: Now that I think about it a bit more. Lip's probably just doing that thing where you don't understand what someone sees in their partner. So you tell them how you think they should feel.

Either way, I feel like Lip and Ian have drifted apart more and more over the 3 seasons. Especially since S1. The most we get of them catching up the other on what's going on emotionally is that one of them, usually Ian, will kind of info-dump. (See the scene in the stolen car at the end of S1 where Ian reveals he's been seeing Mickey; and the scene in 3x10 where Ian talks about Terry walking in on him and Mickey).

But they don't seem to have the luxury of in-depth discussions anymore. The last one I can remember is Ian talking about wanting to go to Westpoint and Lip saying he'll help with the academic side.

idk. Just makes me a little sad to see them drifting.

[wake-me-up-inside-imagines]

Hey! I really like Jason. I was wondering what would happen if yn was the one who was jealous. Also would really like if made one with Jason where yn dresses up more feminine or provocative. Anyways really like your writing.🩷

Thank you! I couldn’t figure out how to shoehorn the provocative/feminine dressing prompt into this, so this one is just the jealousy prompt! Feel free to send in another request for that tho, I’ll probably do it either way but idk if you would prefer having an ask attached to it.

Also couldn’t tell if you wanted this to be a female reader so this is gonna be gender neutral just to be on the safe side.

Yandere! Jock With A Jealous Darling

Gn! Reader

Warnings: Yandere character, manipulation, jealousy, low self esteem, implied murder, Jason's a dick, purposeful manipulation of emotions

Divider credit goes to @k1ssyoursister

-As Jason's partner, you've gotten used to people hitting on him on a regular basis. It's hard not to notice with how well-known he is, being the college's star football player and all. Everybody loves him, adores him even, especially with how attractive he is. It's not uncommon for you to witness a confession to your boyfriend, only to laugh at the pained look on the confessors face when Jason rejects them, swooping you into a passionate kiss mere moments later.

-Yeah, you've gotten used to it. So why is it so why is this time any different?

-Maybe it's because she hasn't actually confessed to him yet, not that you know of, anyway. Maybe it's because her affections are much more subtle than most others. A fake laugh here, an over-the-top, flashy smile there, the minimal yet still detectable decrease in space she creates between herself and Jason when they're together. Nobody would think anything of it if they weren't looking.

-But you were. And you did.

-You knew something was off about her from the moment you met her, watching her worm her way into Jason's friend group like it was nothing. Still, you thought you were crazy at the time for suspecting her of any wrongdoing. She was already friends with a couple of Jason's teammates, so it made sense she would hang around him, right? Besides, she had never treated you with any hostility, not to your face anyway. She was actually rather kind to you, including you in whatever plans she had that Jason was also a part of. You wouldn't necessarily call her a friend, but it made no sense for you to distrust her. you must have been going crazy. You must have.

-And yet, you couldn't keep yourself from surveilling her, and maybe that was a good thing. That's how all the signs came to light, after all. It was so obvious that she was after your boyfriend, but nobody else seemed to know. Least of all Jason himself.

-As upset as you are, you can't be mad at your boyfriend. Sure, he's experienced in the romance department, but he isn't perfect at detecting crushes. Most people who like him are incredibly obvious about it, fawning over him like he's the greatest gift the earth had ever received. It made it easy for him to reject suitors because the signs were glaring. In his eyes, crushes were supposed to be flamboyant, noticeable. So why would he suspect that his teammates' friend has feelings for him when she hadn't done anything to make them known? That would just be silly, an assumption with no backing.

-Jason is vain, you know that well. But he isn't that vain. You know he has no idea about the wolf in sheep's clothing inching her way closer to him, waiting to strike.

-Maybe being nice to you was part of her plan to win Jason over too, now that you think about it. Maybe she kept inviting you to events so she could prove she’d be better for Jason, bringing you along for the ride as some sort of humiliation ritual. Not that she had actually done anything to humiliate you, but still! Now that you’re on to her true feelings, you can’t ignore the endless possibilities involving her.

-But you can’t just confront her. That would make you look bad! If there was one thing Jason liked to mock, it was those who were desperate for attention. And in his eyes, his partner confronting an “innocent” girl over signs that were non-existent to him would probably be the epitome of desperation. No, if you were going to push back against her actions, you’d have to be as subtle as possible. Or, well…subtle in terms of others noticing. Your new rival in love was sure to notice, after enough time.

-You started small, mostly clothing wise. It wasn’t that hard, you know what Jason likes, after all. Certain types of clothing you know he prefers over others, accessories or outfits Jason had specifically gotten you because he thought you’d look hot in them, more…risky clothing, to put it lightly, all of it was on the table. The girl crushing on him isn’t exactly the most unattractive person on the planet, so…you’d just have to look your best at all times. Shouldn’t be too hard.

-It seemed to work, at least for a while. Your boyfriend was never shy about showering you with complements in public, and since your increase in effort, he’d been laying it on thick. It got to a point where everyone around was becoming increasingly over it, the rival girl included. Could your plan be working?

-But of course, it’s never that simple. Despite her noticeable disappointment, the girl continues on with her behavior, leaving you right back at square one.

-Still, you don’t give up just yet. If there’s one thing you know Jason loves more than complimenting you, it’s receiving compliments. So receive he shall.

-On top of your new dressing habits, you start to praise your boyfriend more often. You don’t utter your love too much; that would look desperate. You’re careful to feed him just enough complements to keep him glowing with pride, just enough for others to pick up on a trend. Mostly around the rival girl, but you know, who’s keeping track?

-But it’s not enough. She still won’t back off, and your left flustered and internally seething. Seriously, why couldn’t she take a hint? You knew what she was up to, why couldn’t she just give it a rest? Was she really so confident that she’d win Jason in the end?

-…Would she win Jason over, in the end?

-You hate that you can’t be sure. Yeah, Jason seemed to love you well enough, but…what if he decided she was the better choice later on? You’d heard stories from some of Jason’s exs about how he’d used them until they lost their appeal, how could you be sure that wouldn’t happen to you? Those stories usually came from old situationships, not people who had been as committed as you and Jason were to each other, but…how could you know? How could you really know?

-You couldn’t. You couldn’t know. And it was killing you.

-It was around this time that you began to get clingier. You didn’t mean to, but you weren’t sure how else you were meant to combat the rival girl’s unwanted attention. Why couldn’t she just let you be happy with your boyfriend? If all your efforts weren’t enough to keep her at bay, then what was?

-Soon, everyone around you was noticing. You could have ignored that, if it weren’t for the mortifying fact that Jason was noticing it too. He and his buddies even made a few comments about it. They were all lighthearted in nature, but you couldn’t help but feel the burn of shame in the pit of your gut. It was clear you were becoming nothing but a nuisance in your efforts to drive the girl away from your boyfriend. You could practically feel the smugness radiating off of her at your desperation, now that the game was up. It had only been a couple of weeks since you’d even noticed her advances, how had you let it get under your skin this quickly? Were you really that pathetic?

-Not much you can do about it now. If you were really that much of a bother, then you’d back off.

-You spend the next couple days avoiding Jason, at least physically. You brush off any attempt to hang out in favor of curling up in your room, declining his calls and responding to his texts rather dryly. You’re clearly not the best match for him, so why not leave him be? He and the girl he’d inevitably dump you for could get all chummy together, without you. At least you wouldn’t be there to see it, not like before.

-…It really sucks, how much this girl has gotten in your head. You had no logical reason to believe Jason would leave you for her, and yet…

-Whatever. It's best to just get over it.

-You would have tried to, if Jason hadn't shown up at your doorstep, demanding to talk. You try to avoid the conversation, but it's no use. Jason won't leave, not until he gets an explanation for your behavior, and you're done pretending like you aren't hurting. If he's gonna leave, you might as well be honest about everything.

-So you spill. You spill everything. How upset this girl is making you, how insignificant your relationship feels compared to what she could offer, how his obliviousness in the matter wasn't helping anything. You tell him that all the teasing was the final straw, and now you feel like giving up. Like you'll never be enough for him. Like she has way more to offer then you ever could in the long run. But more than that, you're tired of constantly competing amongst a sea of his adoring fans. It was weighing on you more than you'd like to admit, especially since your one sided battle with the rival girl.

-To your surprise, Jason isn't upset. He isn't even disgusted, not like you thought he'd be. He actually moves to comfort you, being far more understanding than you thought he'd be.

-He tells you he loves you. He tells you he never knew about the girl's unseen advances, but would put a stop to it as soon as possible. He tells you he'd never want anyone else but you and would never push you to the side, least of all for her. He tells you you're beautiful, the kindest, most wonderful partner he could possibly ask for. But most importantly, he apologizes for his obliviousness. It never should have gone as far as it did, and he was partially to blame for not noticing sooner. But he swears he'll make it up to you, and you can't help but believe him.

-You can feel all your insecurities fading away as Jason holds you, your eyes closing in peace. It's not an instant fix and you know that, but...maybe you can accept that you're enough. Maybe, with Jason's help, things would go back to the way they were before, before all the jealousy. Maybe Jason really wouldn't leave you.

-...Yeah, things would get better. You trusted your boyfriend. If he said he wasn't going to leave you, then he had to mean it, right? You'd believe him, you had to. You had no other choice.

-Sighing, you two curl up against each other, melting in each other's warm embraces.

-...You're so gullible. So utterly, helplessly gullible.

-Of course, Jason can't fault you for that. You trust him, after all. That's one of the things he loves most about you. You'll always believe him.

-Still, it was embarrassingly easy to convince you he didn't know about the little competition going on between you and that one girl he couldn't bother to remember the name of, which was a little offensive, to be honest. Did you think he was that dumb, to not notice when someone was in love with him? He'd done and seen it all, how could you genuinely believe he knew nothing of what was going on? Were you really that oblivious yourself?

-Whatever. It didn't matter, in the end. His little test had worked, after all.

-In all fairness, he hadn't really done anything on his own. That was all on you and the girl. He had only been paying her mind once he noticed how desperate she was for him, a rather amusing attempt at gaining his love. But what was more intriguing to him was how desperate her actions had made you.

-It had become a little game in Jason's eyes, a rather amusing one at that. Watching you two battle for his affection. Especially where you were concerned. I mean, it's not everyday one sees their partner so jealous over nothing, right? He'd never seen what lengths you'd go to keep him in your clutches, and he finally had a chance to find out. After all, he had always been an attention hog.

-He played into it occasionally, becoming friendlier with the girl to spark a reaction, but most of the work was up to you. And oh boy, you did not disappoint. It was amazing, the amount of attention you were giving him. Playing right into his carnal wants without even realizing it. Showering him with love. Proving you would never leave him, not as long as he'd have you. He had you right where he wanted you, eating out of the palm of his hand.

-Still, the gig had to die at some point. He truly hadn't meant for it to go so far, to the point it was driving you away from him. That was a slight miscalculation on his part. He'd take the fault for that. He'd never wanted to lose you, far from it, he just...he wanted to see how much you adored him. He wanted to know if you were as dedicated to him as he was to you. He wanted you to understand the unbearable want he felt whenever he was with you, how much he'd give to keep you as his own. Nobody else's. Just his.

-And now you're here, crying in his arms as you recount the past few weeks of torment. He feels a little bad for it, but the need you're displaying for him is far, far more important. He'd made you even more dependent on him then he intended. What a great outcome to what was supposed to be a simple game!

-At least he now knows you'll never leave him. You're just as hooked on him as he is on you. His precious little dove. Unaware of the golden cage you've flown yourself into.

-Don't worry though. He meant it when he said he'd take care of the girl. Just maybe not in the way you'd think. After all, how can he let someone who willfully tormented his darling partner live after all they'd done? Only he was allowed to do that. Only him.

-She'd get the attention she wanted all right; just not the kind she wanted.

-Jason's grip on you tightens, a smile peeking from behind his lips. You're too deep in his web now, and he knows it. He'll never let you go.

Never. 

I hope you enjoyed!

[amethystfairy1]

In my head they’re all living happily ever after, and the hot cave has made a safe rift that Cub watches over because he told Scar he was a hybrid/mutant and Scar was like, “well that solves that issue! Hot cave it is!” (Let me live in hope)

When the rumbling started I thought Blackwell was LITERALLY drowning everybody from the undercuts out. Like shoving it with so much bedrock that they had no choice but to go to the surface where they’d get killed or arrested…… (I’m scared)

My theory is the breakup tag will probably be Zed and Tango, TRUST. Because I don’t think Jimmy is giving up his chance in the sky, Pearl doesn’t have anybody (unless you count her breaking up with the soup group, but if she stayed topside then she could atleast send messages down via the podcast), Grian isn’t going to stop being Cuteguy up top so he can’t go back now, and the only thing I can think of is Zed completely giving in and moving down with Tango because he’s done with the overcity’s bullshit, or tango maybe living in the hot cave as it’s the only place he actually KNOWS the location of up there? OR (worst of all), Etho has to do topside to collect a child, and gets stuck up there….but I’d LOVE to see that. Like maybe he’d just drop by one of their apartments (I feel like Jimmy’s would be closest for some random reason), and just be like “so……yeahhh….funny story..”

but anywayyyy, I LOVE YOUR WRITING OMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMG! Your like genuinely so good??? I found this fic right in the beginning, it was one of the first flower husbands fics in the series that I happened to stumble upon and went, “…..huh, gonna save THAT for later!” And put it in my read later spot. Everntually I got sound to reading it, but noticed it was like..12th in a story or whatever so I figured might as well go to the start for the full effect because it seemed cool, and FELL IN LOVE!

I finally caught up during etho and doc’s meeting fic (don’t remember when that was). So I think it’s a little ironic now that the director’s debut was my catching point. (Granted I have lost track for a bit since then bc it’s been TWO YEARS, you mad lad.)

And sorry if you mentioned it before, but what is your inspiration for this fic? Other than the obvious ofc (like HermitCraft, traffic series, Hotguy/cuteguy, etc). Because my boyfriend pointed out (as I was ranting to him, he’s somewhat in the Matt scene but hasn’t fully fallen into it head first unlike me for literal YEARS (I digress)), that the undercity over city concept is a lot like arcane with pullover and…the other city (don’t watch the show myself I’m remembering from something he said) so now I’m curious!

(Hopefully this was intelligible, woke up in the middle of the night and had the inescapable urge to ask)

Awwwh THANK YOU! I'm so glad you've enjoyed my writing and all my work on TTSBC! I can't answer a lot of this stuff :P Buuuuut it's gonna be so much FUN!

As for inspo, I actually did not watch Arcane until way after I started TTSBC. Honestly, I didn't really have any other strong inspiration for it other than the Hermits and Life series and Emperors themselves! I've always loved the 'someones got a big secret' kind of tropes, so I wanted to expand on that! And I've been playing around with the idea of a city in the depths beneath another city as a setting for a story for a long time, and so TTSBC just kind of happened! ^-^ I hope that makes sense! Thank you so much for your kind words!!!

[thatonesonicfanfictionwriter]

hiiiiii!! if it isnt too much, would you mind writing a platonic oneshot for shadow?

maybe after shadow lost his memory after sa2, the reader found him somehow. shadow is injured or smth (idk something that causes him to have to be dependent on someone, you can decide what the reason why he is dependent on the reader is) so the reader takes him in, despite shadow insisting that he's fine on his own. the reader takes care of shadow, and they have a sort of sibling banter-y relationship. am i making sense? pls tell me if im making sense.

for the readers personality, id like her to be sassy, assertive (maybe a tiny bit neurodivergent if youre comfortable with writing that) artistic, playful, and a bit closed off but still cares. a bit like rouge, maybe. also id like her to be fem, if thats alright. you have full creative freedom with what actually happens. sorry if this is weird and long and awdsdbjebiwebf i just wanna adopt shadow ;-;

You’ll Always Have a Friend”

Pairing: (Platonic) Shadow the Hedgehog x Female Human Reader

Requested: Yes (by an anon).

Description: After finding an injured hedgehog on your doorstep, you never expected to get close to him. But fate is always a strange thing, isn’t it?

Notes: Aghhh I didn’t mean for these requests to take so long, I’ve just been semi-stressed from school, I hope it was worth the wait though!

(Reader will use She/They pronouns.)

– – – – – – – – – – – –

The day was normal at first.

You had a normal morning, eating breakfast, getting your morning jog in, catching up on your favorite TV show, reading a new book…

It was nice.

At least, until you started hearing noises outside.

Thunder, to be more specific.

Well, there goes your plans for the rest of the day.

You let out a sigh, double-checking where you keep the candles and getting them out in case the power decides to go out, along with a flashlight and batteries.

After doing so, you notice a figure outside, which isn’t unusual, considering how many people near your town love walking in the rain.

But this one is strange.

They seem…smaller, around the size of a kid, and they seem to be hunched over in pain.

You open your door, looking outside, only to see a strange sight.

The figure turns out to be a three-foot tall anthropomorphic hedgehog with black and red quills, red eyes, rocket shoes, golden ring-shaped bracelets on, one on each of his limbs, and many injuries adorning his body. He appears to be limping.

Before you can call out to him, he barely takes a step forward before collapsing, going unconscious.

You rush over to him, panic written all over your face, checking for a pulse, which you luckily find, causing you to let out a sigh of relief.

Well, you can’t just leave him out here…

Making your decision, you pick up the hedgehog bridal-style, being mindful of his sharp quills, bringing him inside, kicking the door closed behind you with one of your feet.

You set him down on your couch, rushing to get your first-aid kit from your bathroom, coming back out to the living room once you have it, along with a towel.

You begin treating his injuries after drying him off, first disinfecting each of them, with the hedgehog letting off a quiet hiss each time you pour it on a wound.

“I know, bud…I’m almost done,” you say.

It’s a miracle he hasn’t woken up yet.

You bandage the last injury, that being one on his forehead, letting off another sigh.

“Well…guess I have a roommate now,” you say. “Get better soon, alright?”

Odd how he had green blood, was this guy an alien?

Well, of course he is, he’s a giant anthropomorphic hedgehog.

Duh.

The next day, when you awake, you notice him finally awake, trying to get up, hissing in pain.

“Woah woah woah, calm down a bit, bud,” you start. “You’re still healing.”

“Who are you,” he spats. “And where am I.”

“Okay, um. I’m [Name], and this is my house,” you say. “What about you? Do you have a name?”

The hedgehog goes silent, avoiding your gaze.

“Not one that I remember,” he states.

“Hm. Well, I’ll call you “Shadow,” that cool?” you ask.

“Hmph. Whatever,” he says.

You quickly got used to Shadow. It was like having an annoying younger brother, in a way.

Well, sort of, anyway.

He quickly became interested in a lot of stuff you liked, like your many, many books.

His favorite was The Tales of King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table, surprisingly.

Eventually, his injuries fully healed, and you expected him to leave.

And he did, but…

He always came back.

No matter how many times he would leave, he would always come back to your house for a safe place.

It was nice having the company.

In return for him staying, you would ask him to be a model for your paintings, and you two would bicker about it like siblings.

In the end, well…

You never regretted meeting him.

[lady-merian]

For Caliam: How would you describe Arric and Erran? What traits of theirs do you value most highly? Do you think either is hiding something and, if so, what do you think it is?

Arric is clever and he’s good with his words (He always seems to know what to say. I’ve tried to figure out how he does it, but I can’t.) and responsible but not in a way that interferes with a good sense of humor, just the kind that makes people think he’s the older one of the two of us.

Erran is trickier. I’ll answer the last question first because it seems like he’s hiding a whole side of himself from us at times. It’s not that he’s reserved, it’s that even Arric will talk about things from before he moved to Wettham—and he’s got more reason than most to not want to talk about that— and for Erran it’s like that time doesn’t exist. It took me a little while to pick up on that though because he *doesn’t* seem reserved at all, but rather open. I thought it odd once I did notice it.

Erran is friendly, he’s a good sparring partner and not a sore loser which I appreciate. He’s generous with his time and his resources; really, I think he’d give you the shirt off his back if you needed one, though I know he’s putting money aside for something. Not that he’s mentioned it outright so officially I don’t even know that, let alone what specifically he’s saving for. There’s something compelling about him that I can’t put into words.

[70yearsofwinter]

ㅤSteve was the most recklessly brave person any of them knew, but Natasha had also been right about whatever it was she was right about, and the not-so-well-known secret here was that she was also recklessly brave. She just played like she was smarter and more cautious most of the time, but he'd seen her in action. It made sense that she'd be encouraging something that seemed as crazy as this did, and Bucky thought he'd been prepared for it when he'd made his move, but that had been a quick burst of courage and charm. Once it had fallen flat, he backed off and the usual attitude and guard went up; he didn't really remember how to be that guy naturally or all the time, and he wasn't sure that he would have even without his fall from the train and Hydra.

ㅤHe remembered how raw he'd felt after Steve had arrived in Europe to bust his way into that base after the 107th, and he also remembered how Peggy Carter and all of the other girls had looked at him; they might not have given him a second glance in New York, but they noticed Captain America at a time when Bucky himself felt invisible. Fitting then that he'd become a shadow after that, and now didn't really know what to do when dragged into the light. Right then he felt like there was a spotlight on him with Steve approaching his spot against the wall, Nat's hand in his so that they essentially boxed him in. It made him tense subconsciously, magical alcohol making it harder to overthink it all, but at the same time ruining his ability to put on any kind of front while he figured this out. His brain was dangerously close to blue-screening, and he couldn't prevent the other two from realizing it.

ㅤIt might not have been holes in his memory but clearly he had been missing something, what with Steve's explanation - they might not have ever talked about it, but that sounded dangerously like there had been those feelings and that possibility hanging around, yet somehow Bucky hadn't seen it? His eyes flicked to Natasha as Steve's hand slid from his shoulder up to the back of his neck, uncertain now because it was happening, but it was happening slowly enough for him to think too hard about it, which he didn't have the proper ability to do right then. What had he expected? For her to be wrong and none of this to happen, of course, and he'd bet her breakfast for it. Now it was right there in front of him and he didn't know what to do with it except go still as Steve leaned in...and pressed a tiny little kiss to the corner of his mouth.

ㅤReckless, brave, stupid Steve Rogers finally made a move, and of course it would be a soft, sweet, romantic move that might have made him irresistible back in the forties. Right there where Bucky had his back to the wall boxed in like that and too much tension and with Steve's hand literally at the back of his neck, a slow and soft move couldn't stay that way. He held his breath like Steve might disappear, absorbing the fact that it was actually happening, then moved fast, sudden as though he thought Steve might still withdraw and change his mind. He dropped the bottle of mead and caught it in his left hand in a move that hearkened back to his knifework over the years, and his right arm wrapped around Steve's shoulders, pulling him in tight so that when Bucky turned his face just that little bit to kiss Steve back, there was no proper or coy distance to maintain. He kissed him hard, desperate, like a drowning man in search of air, but holding back just enough that his left arm hung at his side with the mead bottle dangling from his grip, kept well away from Steve and those pre-war memories where it didn't belong.

@wavellites , @xlianovna

Yes, they were best friends--had always been best friends--and none of the actions that Steve took would have seemed any different from an outsider's perspective. He'd felt a conviction back then, knowing that the world was in a precarious state and that he had to do something to help, but Bucky's involvement made the stakes personal.

Explaining how he felt was a whole other story from just feeling it, though, even with Natasha's encouragement, because that would require more introspection than he felt capable of at his current blood alcohol level. The truth is he had always loved Bucky. It felt easy as breathing, easier than most other aspects of his life. Back then, though? He would have been labeled a deviant, or his love for his friend would have been added to the laundry list of his illnesses, losing out on what few opportunities he had. It was better never to dwell on it, just to let it be.

It was different now--legal, most importantly, and also viewed by most as a natural thing. Bigots would always exist, but their voices weren't the loudest anymore. It was okay to love the people he loved in all the ways he never could before, if he was brave (or reckless) enough to risk it, and anyone who knew him would know that he was as recklessly brave as they came.

"You aren't missing anything," Steve said. "We never talked about it. I was happy just to have you in my life, and I didn't want to assume anything. Girls never even gave me a second glance back then, and I didn't want to lose my best friend if you didn't feel the same way."

Taking a steadying breath, Steve reached down for Nat's petite hand and took it in his, then tugged her over to where Bucky was leaning against the wall. His free hand landed on Bucky's shoulder, inching up to cradle the back of his neck before Steve leaned in press his lips to the corner of Bucky's mouth.

@70yearsofwinter @xlianovna

[trentcrimminallybeautiful]

on one hand, it would be in-character and potentially plotty/useful plotwise for beard to figure out what's going on (at least to some degree) with ted and trent by himself. on the other hand, i'm picturing ted (finally realizing he doesn't feel entirely heterosexually about trent) going to the diamond dogs and when they're like "wait let's get trent--" he's like no actually it's kinda about trent? and they're all like oh? 👀 and ted reluctantly goes........yeah i'm . ok well to start with i'm. kinda. sleeping with him ? and right behind him. just. instantly. beard, who'd been taking a sip from his mug, sprays coffee everywhere

[nebulastarss]

My experience with being aroace:

Me at 13: I've never been good at telling the difference between romantic and platonic love, so I'll just say I'm pan till I figure it out

Me at 14 near the end of that same year, reading the asexual definition: Oh ok that makes sense. Haha, no wonder I think everyone's so overwhelmingly horny.

Me, later: there's different ones for romantic attraction?? Panromantic asexual till I figure that out too I guess.

Me, discovering aromantic: oh. Well, I should've guessed that really.

[buddietommys]

"Why not?"

"I wish you were a girl."

[twistmusings]

Some additional observations

Jade picked multiple people to arrive in place of Azul because, in his word "it takes multiple mermaids to overturn the gondola". With that in mind, knowing he was so gung ho for Azul to join him, we can probably safely assume that (at least in Jade's opinion), Azul in his merfolk form has the physical strength of three other people. It would make sense, considering Floyd and Jade also confirmed that Azul is larger than them in his merfolk form, too.

Jade is a momma's boy, lol! I forgot to mention this, but both Floyd and Jade have picked up some of Georgina's mannerisms, but I have noticed more similarities between Jade and his mother. In addition, Jade seems to speak quite politely and deferently to his mother. Given what Floyd said about them growing up in book 7, that seems to track. Jade typically plays innocent around authority figures like his mom.

The Leech family are not beating the mafia allegations. They have connections to at least two businesses in the first part of the event and both times it's through Jade's father. They also give a handwavey answer when asked what Jade's dad does for work that amounts to "all kinds". It's likely that they're referring to criminal activity though it's never said outright. (Personally I think it would be hilarious if he turned out to just be a super well connected person in an innocuous line of work... personal injury lawyer or accountant or an engineer with a super strict NDA, but I don't know that we will ever get a 100% answer.)

Eternity Float Event

CW: Spoilers below the cut but I thought I'd share some of my favorite details about the Eternity Float Event and mini character analysis because it's exceedingly cute? 😭

First, it's so sweet to me that the first person Jade picks to come with him is Azul? Azul refuses because if he does go Mrs. Leech will spoil him with food so he refuses (my boy still definitely struggles with food policing himself) but that's actually very sweet. Georgina herself is, notably sad about Azul not being there (even more so than being sad that Floyd didn't show up? Which is hilarious because it means she probably expected Floyd might lose interest but she's actually sad Azul didn't come to see her. She definitely adores Azul and sees him as part of her family too.) Plus Azul being flustered that Mrs.Leech gets along so well with his mom and grandmother is very funny.

Jade guilt trips no less than five people into going with him by manipulating the hell out of them. It's extremely funny because being in the Fandom when it was first released in the U.S., most people at the time assumed the most dangerous twin was Floyd because of his mood-swings. Your honor, I would like to petition the court to consider that Floyd is, in fact, just a morally grey little guy. Or like, very big guy, but you get the point. He seems to be the least likely of the three to actively do something sadistic or swindle you.

Azul pawning Jade off onto Yuu and being relieved that he successfully distracted Jade from harassing him into going. As it turns out, even he sometimes needs someone to come collect that freak of a man.

Jade has dreamed of being in a wedding, not as the groom but as a part of a tradition to try and tip over the newly weds gondola and admits he's been dreaming about it since he was young. The way he phrases the statement tells us a lot about Jade's motivation for wanting to do this because he notes something to the effect of "people cheer loudly when the Moray manages to tip the boat over fully". Jade is, once again, being kind of a brat and despite his claims that he doesn't like to be the center of attention, he really wants to be the center of attention actually.

Less about Jade specifically, but it is worth noting that this ceremony is specifically for when a human marries a merfolk and the couple remains on land (if I am translating correctly), meaning that it seems to indicate that there really aren't weddings in this form in the Coral Sea.

Of course, we get to see Jade's mother, Georgina, and the first impression of everyone in the group is how tall she is. She is noted to be a) taller than Jade, b) twice as tall as Riddle, and c) her sprite is taller than Malleus with his horns. I don't personally take the comment about being twice as tall as Riddle as 100% fact, but that would mean she could be as tall as 320 cm (around 10 feet). If I go based on sprite measurements, however, I would guess she's a few inches taller than the highest measurement of Malleus' horns. Considering Malleus with his horns clocks in at around 202 cm or 6'6", and measuring their sprite heights, I would guess she's close to 213 cm or 7' tall.

Just want to add, while that might mean Jade and Floyd are still likely to get taller, it could also mean that her husband is simply *much shorter* than her and the twins take after his height. Either of these are possible, considering we don't know exactly how Merfolk biology compares to human biology and how far into life they keep growing.

Speaking of fish and growing, one set of lines that stood out to me is when Jade mentions that he gave his mother Floyd's nicknames for inspiration for their outfits. Riddle is visibly a bit upset by this, and admits he doesn't like the comparison to goldfish because they are "small and red". Georgina apologizes for Floyd being rude (though she laughs as well) and tells Riddle "when released from captivity, goldfish can grow very large". Riddle seems to be excited by this, however Jade laughs. I believe Jade assumes Riddle is excited by the prospect of getting taller. Given Riddle's backstory however... and this is complete conjecture, it seems like Riddle may be correlating it to being under his mother's control and is excited that he may "grow" when he's free.

[eraserbread]

there's something in the air around you... your husband, nanami, notices it immediately.

perhaps it's a new perfume, but you never switched from the one he picked out. you've used the same detergent since you were a teenager and match body wash with him.

there hasn't been a change in your lifestyle at all. kento swears he's not crazy...

then, he thinks he might actually be because he's standing in front of the washer with your black silk panties pressed to his nose. you just took them off this morning, so your smell is fresh—mouthwatering—yet different—a good difference.

"ken, i've been dreaming about milk bread from that bakery in-" you're stepping into the room, arms crossed around your traditional robe. you took off your clothes to shower, and now he's nose-deep. "...what are you doing?"

"oh." he replies haphazardly, pretending like he didn't just get caught sniffing your panties. he tosses them in with the rest of the clothes. "yes, dear. milk bread sounds lovely. you know, they do sandwiches too-

"why were you... wait, you're sniffing my panties? are you okay?"

"oh," he repeats, looking down to the contained mess of dark clothes in the drum. "I know... it's odd... i was just wondering why your pheromones have been dipping recently." he turns to you, shutting the washer and leaning against the waist-height appliance. "have you been taking any new medications? no, right? i would know?"

you swallow silence, knowing exactly what he was sensing... and silly you, you know your husband is mystic and observational. you should really tell him about that positive pregnancy test you have hiding in the wardrobe.

now is not that time. you shake your head. "no..."

so, he nods you over. "come here, now. i've been stewing over the matter for a few days."

kento sits you on top of the purring washing machine after he turns it on, giving you a passing kiss as you settle. You still get so flustered with him, and it's heightened right now—you just caught him with a noseful of your most private garments, taking it in like it was flora.

"well, firstly i thought it might've been a new bodywash... but we share."

"mhm." you nod, lips pressing together as he pushes your legs open. under the robe you're completely naked, but the shadow keeps you decent. "'s not the bodywash."

"yes. then, i figured... well, it's more likely to be an internal change. i can smell it waft when you walk by."

"are you saying i stink?"

his eyes get dark. he's staring right into your soul. "no."

you're purring - a steady engine coming to life within you that matches the tremors of the wash cycle. between your thighs, he reaches for your familiar cunt, knowing right where to reach, where he should bypass, and the entirety of your shape. instead of teasing your clit, getting you ready for further stimulation, he slides his thick middle finger inside of you, buried to the hilt.

you take a breath, he cocks an eyebrow. "me smelling you like that... it didn't make you uncomfortable, did it?"

you're shaking your head immediately, reaching a hand to plant on his big, homey shoulder. he's hunching pretty far to get as close as possible, nose trailing over yours when he whispers.

"i don't... i don't even know what that means—mhmf." you squeeze your eyes shut, body twisting as he slips his pointer finger ring-deep inside of you. the shiny metal shocks your soul, twisting at your entrance as his digits stretch you sensually.

then, he chuckles. actually—real, rare. "good. i love you. all of you." he twists his fingers and pulls them out, drinking up your flustered gasps as he brings the glistening pair to his nose, taking a long sniff.

you're reacting like a fish out of water, opening and closing your lips as you try to make sense of it all. before two thoughts can connect, he's dragging those damp fingers to his lips, staring at you hotly as he takes them in his mouth.

he settles on a deep, throaty. "mmm..." cheeks hollowing around them like your taste is his favorite meal. "you're sweeter, too."

[professorsparklepants]

I'm gonna be real I don't think anyone is ever gonna figure out Danny Phantom is living teenager Danny Fenton unless they see him transform. Because like. What the fuck is a half-ghost. Makes no fucking sense. If Danny Fenton is dead surely someone would have noticed by now.

What I think is more likely is that someone notices Danny Fenton bears a striking resemblance to Danny Phantom and delicately (or not so delicately) asks if he has an uncle or something who died young and that's why his parents are super into ghosts.