#so like. get fucking real about that bullshit

[andersonfilms]

KNUCKLE VELVET, TORN ON MY TEETH

❝ VI!ONE SHOT ❞

pairing. pitfighter!vi x bartender!reader

warnings. eighteen+, nsfw content: arcane season two spoilers, soft angst, smut, bartender!reader, crashout!vi mends her cold heart, inexperienced!vi, switch!reader + vi, fem coded reader, coded alcohol addiction, slight spit kink, strap use.

KNUCKLE VELVET TORN ON MY TEETH, there's something charming about the pitfighter who doesn't stop drinking until she reaches the bottom of the barrel and the bartender who keeps walking her home.

wc. 7k+

rayray yaps. popping my vi!oneshot cherry, hehe, and i'm happy to do so. the vi brainrot has been real as fuck lately. i fear it's not going away anytime soon. but i wanted to give a special shoutout to @hypnagogics for proofreading this fic, means sm to me ily + my sweet bubba, @absfawn for the title name, i could kiss you until my lips fall off. the best people ever, i love them so much. okay, now i have yapped enough! happy reading, hope you enjoy.

Trapped in the abyss, just when everything had been taken from her life seems to sacrifice another offering on a silver platter. Something else that she thought could be hers, but wasn’t. In the end, all of it was the same. Life is the same. She takes three steps forward, circumstances out of her control take her apart like enforcers imposing their will on Zaun, and she’s forced to move five steps back. It’s all she feels, powerless. 

Wanting nothing more than to drown her sorrows, forget all that she's lost. For everything that’s been taken, Vi feels an overpowering loss, threatening to take over everything she’s trying to build. But Vi thinks of none of it now, she can’t afford to think of one more thing. So, she doesn’t. All of her mind forgets. She forces herself to. 

Zaun, Piltover, Jinx, Vander, Silco, and Cait. 

She drowns in blood, sweat, and liquor for nights to come. She forgets everything and you are just the cherry top on this one shitty sundae. Anytime she’s here, Vi manages to get herself into a fight. Each time. Every time she tries to apologize or hold an ounce of guilt in her eyes, you see right through her crystal blues. From the very first night, you called her bullshit. Even if Vi didn’t give in, it was hard to hide her small smirk. 

She lets herself think it’s because you’re a bartender. You practically get paid to read people, listen to them vent about shit you probably don’t give two shits about and break up the fights that erupt every thirty minutes. Overinflated egos and drunken assholes weren’t a great mix. The jury was still out if you though Vi was one. She could have both, she didn’t really talk much. Vi fought, drank until she couldn’t see straight, and you helped her up to her small apartment right across the street and up the steps into her said apartment. 

No matter how hard she tries, it always ends the same. Vi looking like an imbecile and you, the pretty bartender who shuts down every advance she throws your way. Vi wonders who had a stronger shell, what you’re hiding in order to protect yourself. 

Maybe she is just an asshole. 

“You don’t have to walk me up here. I-I can make it just fine on my own.” 

As soon as your fingertips let go of her fragile frame, Vi’s inebriated body collapses on the concrete steps, grabbing onto the metal framing as if her life depends on it. 

“Really? Now you wanna prove a point?” 

“For your information, I’m always in it to prove a point.” 

Even if your words are harsh, with a soft smile and a hand open, Vi takes it as you let her lean on your weight as you assist her up the steps. There’s little shame to be had once the two of you make it in. It isn’t like the first time and when she noticed the scrunch of your nose in taking the smell, tequila and grease. Vi thought it was cute but she halts any further thought. 

Quickly, Vi disposed of her leather jacket and pants she’s left in boxers and the wrap protecting her chest. The part of her life that seems to be kept together. She doesn’t really mind it though, you. Seeing her like this. Even more so, she enjoys it. You’re always so dismissive at the bar, hardly holding eye contact, turning down any flirting she hurls your way. Just like the vomit Vi had nearly thrown up on your shoes but made a quick diversion for the bush to the right of her instead. 

This is truly the only time she knows you want her. Not so subtly, your eyes trace her like each pinpoint of your gaze is painting her on a clean canvas, one Vi wonders if she’ll like or not. When she’s been around you, she’s been wondering about a lot of things — thoughts she quite literally can’t afford. 

It’s her, nothing ever ends well when her feelings can get crushed on the other side. 

Everything she touches burns to ash before she can even hold it for a moment, a second of symphony retaliates with years of misery. How could you be any different? She wishes you would burn her underneath your gaze, put her out of the misery she feels growing every day, but you don’t. You’re always pulling her out of trouble when you truly don’t have to. It’s not your job to take care of her or hell, even look after her. 

But you do and she can’t seem to figure out why. 

“Why are you doing this?” 

“Just shut the fuck up and let me help you. Not everyone has a motive. Some people just like to help when someone is so clearly struggling.” 

“I’m not—” 

You give her a glare that seems to shut her up. You draw a bath for her. It’s easy to find her towels in the only cabinet. It’s an acute studio apartment. More so of a small room with a stove stop, minimal counter space, and one bathroom enough to bathe and brush her teeth in. There isn’t much left of it but it’s hers. Grabbing the first aid kit, you kneel between her legs, the mattress sits on the floor, her legs spread and stretching out in front of you. 

“Let me help you. Alright?” Vi grumbles, a incoherent complaint, but she lets you tend to her wounds. 

It’s mainly just cleaning off her dry blood as she still complains in the process, but there’s a few cuts on her face and her cheeks are already beginning to bruise. It’s not a secret, she bruises like a peach but she always makes sure her opponent is leaving a lot more with just a few cuts and a bruise the size of a plum. 

It’s then, when you’re concentrating on the cuts on her face, the busted lip she’s sporting; she looks at you. Maybe it’s the first time she has, but without even realizing it, she gets lost. Not in the way Vi doesn’t know who she is, that she’s completely lost on, but Vi sees you. 

Bright-eyed, optimistic, helpful, kind — all attributes she couldn’t claim but wears like a badge of honor. As if helping others instills you with a sense of purpose, something that’s always been a lost cause to her. Fight until the next fight, and the next, and the next. That’s what she’s done, she's always been a fighter. She’s fallen back on it when needed. It’s clear to her. Like a vision she could see, crystal clear through some stupid ball, it’s always been about survival. 

But how much longer does she want to fight and how much more does she have in her? 

“Thanks.” Vi speaks softly. 

Not knowing where to place her palms, she settles for her thigh. Silent as she watches, nearly analyzing every moment, every glance, every little thing you’re doing. It’s sobering to say the least. You don’t need to be delicate but you are. It’s more kindness than she deserves, nearly leaving a bitter taste on her tongue but when you offer a small smile and a soft whisper, you’re welcome. 

It’s the sweetest thing Vi has ever seen. 

There’s something different in the way you look at her. The soft omission exposes how sweet on Vi you may be. Definitely more than you’d let on, which was well…none. Up until tonight, she thought you hated her. With each word uttered in your direction, Vi assumed you’d rather swallow bile than stomach her slurred, flirty speech. 

“Why do you want to help? It’s not like I’ve exactly been—” 

“Kind?” 

“Yeah, something like that.” 

This time Vi lets the smile reach her eyes and your smile gets even sweeter. She can practically feel the sweetness rotting her teeth as she speaks. It’s the first time she feels something new, something as bright as the light radiating through your eyes. 

“You just seem different. Even if you do try to hide it.” 

With a flush of crimson coating the apple of her cheeks, she’s never been quite as exposed as this. The next few weeks are spent with less drinking, but Vi frequents the bar just as much as she did before. She orders a few pints just to talk to you. She’s learning more about you, slowly but surely, you’re opening up more. Divulging information you wouldn’t have before, trust is earned. It’s something you told her the first night you met and to this day, Vi still remembers it. 

Regardless of how drunk she’d been when you said it. 

It’s a typical night. Vi flirted with you but you aren’t being dismissive tonight but you’re careful enough to not let her know exactly how you feel. Everything you say is guarded enough you keep her on her toes, for a moment she thinks she might have to become a ballerina. It’s a slow night, Wednesday. Go figure Vi thinks. There was a woman who’d also been flirting with you all night. Vi thought she was beautiful, sweet, funny…certainly was making you laugh all night. 

Part of Vi wanted to feel jealous but it feels too good hearing you laugh, she says nothing. Maybe you just don’t like women. Vi was known for reading into things too much, thinking everyone thought with their heart first just like she did, and assuming every hot and attractive woman was into other women — just like she is. 

But the brunette left before closing, leaving Vi and a few other regulars paying their tab as they stumbled home with a belly full of liquor of their choosing. 

“Alright Vi, don’t you have somewhere to be? Maybe getting some sleep for the night?” 

“I don’t sleep much, it’s better if I don’t.” 

“Keeps the nightmares away.” 

All Vi does is nod. 

“Story of the century.” You take Vi’s empty pint before washing it dispersing in the sink before cleaning up the remainder of the bar top. “Everyone’s got one around here and the new one is usually even more depressing than the last.” 

“What about yours?” 

“If you wanna hear that, I’ll have to be the one doing the drinking.” You smile but it’s the first one Vi recognizes as insincere. 

“Yeah, seems to be the stone cold requirement for a heart to heart.” 

Vi’s silent as you vent to her about the customer who refused to pay up tonight until you threatened to kick his ass and that wasn't enough, you threatened Letty on him. Vi found herself only slightly entranced as you spoke with such color, your animated voice doing impressions of the stubborn patreon, moving your hands as you speak, eyebrows furrowed as you finished the story. 

You’re done cleaning and are ready to close by the time you finish, locking the door as Vi stuffs her hands in her pockets, “Can I ask you something?” 

You cling to your bag like a lifeline. Vi notices how tight your grip is on the strap, almost as if you’re afraid. Of what? She has a craving to find out. “Why’d you turn her away? She seemed plenty interested. Not your type?” 

You take a step forward, just as close as the last time you were in her apartment, tending to wounds she wouldn’t have really cared about but still she let you clean them. 

You didn’t have to know that. Not yet, anyway. 

“No, not really. I like my women a little rough around the edges, stumbling out of bars so wasted they can’t even walk home by themselves.” You smirk, grabbing the lapel of her leather jacket as you tug her closer to you. “Or is that what you want me to say?” 

“Is it true?” 

You both know the hope in her eyes is dangerous. 

Hope. 

A foreign concept in Zaun. If you get too close to the flame, you’ll get burned, dusting into ash as if you never existed. It’s what shimmer did to people, wipe them off the map until they reformed into a shell of what they used to be. You didn’t just get out of a place like this, not without some help. Vi could barely even help herself. 

The both of you know it’s a bad idea. A terrible, god awful idea, but you still move in closer to her. Vi notices and she wipes the smirk off her face, your warm hands finding purchase on her exposed hips, drawing soft circles on her hip bones. She likes it, even when her heart feels torn from being blown to bits by a certain blue-eyed beauty. 

Vi likes you. 

“Your skin is softer than I thought it would be, smooth like pure silk. Not that I’ve ever touched it before but I’ve got to believe it would feel a lot like this.” 

Vi feels a tingle up her spin, your touch is overwhelming, more than she bargained for really. A stumbling, messy kiss is all she really expected if anything. Not this. Clearly, you knew what to do. Leaving Vi a little clueless in that department, she’s knocked off her feet once again but this time in a way she wants to be. But actually bringing something this special to anything more than a few flirty quips? It never seems to be her strong suit. 

So, she puts her best foot forward. Her big stupid mouth, one she can never quite fully silence. “I can guarantee my lips feel a lot softer.” 

“Vi—” You speak her name like a warning, an unspoken law you’re breaking by entertaining your feelings and the bubbling sentiments you hold for her close to your heart. You know better than to keep it so close, but the halo in her eyes blinds you to reason and you let it. 

“It’s Violet but you can call me whatever you want, sweets.” 

You chuckle at the pet name. 

“Just one night. That’s it. Just to get it out of our system.” 

“One night, sweets. It’s all I need.” 

— 

It’s how you ended up here, the third night in a row since the first, trapped under the web of Vi and her eager mouth. Slender, perfectly sculpted fingers feel like a hex to your cunt, every moment causing you to fall further into her spell. To say she has a certain talent would be considered an understatement. It’s clear Vi’s enjoying herself, fuck, damn near suffocates herself in your weeping cunt. Last night wasn’t nearly enough, she needs to have you, again. Not that you were complaining. 

As much as you hate to admit it, there has been no one as generous as her. As good as her, as sweet, as kind, and she did whatever the hell you asked for. Nothing has beaten the first night, her thumping clit nudging against your as she hiked one of your legs over her toned shoulders. 

It’s not a secret how built she is, far from it, but it’s another thing entirely to watch her flexed bicep ripple with every grind of her hips. Each movement seems to be calculated with precision, focused on doing more than just making herself feel good. With pure determination, glazed over crystal blue eyes, and a pouty scarred lip, she makes sure you’re enjoying this as much as her. With each moan you let slip, her confidence only grows until she’s commanded full control over you. She takes what she wants from you and in return you’re seeing stars behind your eyes, constellations created in the shape of her name as you come. 

“That’s it pretty girl, just for me, yeah?” Vi talks you through  as she works you through your orgasm with her strong hips, not stopping even after you’ve cum. She wants more and Vi pulls three more orgasms out of you before she’s done for the night. You expected her to be good. There was no shocker there but you didn’t expect her to be so sweet afterwards. Vi is a drunk, an addict, whether she wants to accept it or not. You could be just another object she’s addicted to. Somehow, you convince yourself it’s just a one time thing. It doesn’t mean anything, it won’t. 

Truthfully it feels much more than just a one night stand, more than an itch being scratched — the blossoming ache in your soul feels tethered to your heart every time Vi makes you feel an ounce of love — even when she tries to hide it behind a wall. Whether you’re aware, the wall can’t seem to stop crumbling. Brick by brick, it’s coming undone just as you have. Weak-willed and with purpose, you fall into her. 

There isn’t an inch of your body Vi didn’t kiss. Her lips tattooing every inch of your skin with marked affection, almost as if she’s mending your skin with the burn of her lips. When she claims your soft lips, haunting you with the salvation of perfection as her velvet tongue invades your mouth, the taste of you melting from her tongue to yours. The silent declaration you didn’t ask for but craved, the carnal moan leaving her mouth as she chuckles when your hips pathetically grind into hers. 

Vi enjoys your company, that much is clear, but this time you bring her to your place. It’s more or less the same. Both of you coming down from the highest of highs, you feel sticky, dirty, and damn right heavenly. Vi disappears into your bathroom, grabbing a wash rag before dampening the material underneath a warm faucet. Carefully, she kneels by your hips, legs twitching softly as her skilled fingers find your slit before Vi’s sucking the digit in your mouth. 

“I just wanted one last taste before I clean you up.” 

As she has before, Vi makes good on her promise and cleans you up. She enjoys when the pad of her thumb grazes against your clit, terribly overstimulated, your stomach twitches. All Vi can do is chuckle. 

“I’m just a little—” 

“Sensitive?” Vi smirks as you hide your face in the palm of her hands, the pad of her thumb gently caressing your skin.  

It’s the lightest she’s felt in weeks. Almost as if she’s floating on a cloud, she wants to stay up there in the cloudiest of nines. Just you and her and an aging mattress as she offers you everything she can give. Albeit, it isn’t much but she’ll still freely give. 

Like a dog with a bone, Vi corners you on the third night when it’s just you and her in the bar. Closing time has long since arrived and vanished into the crisp air of the night but Vi has you bent over the bar, desperation clawing at the weathered countertop of the bar as Vi’s fingers fucks your pretty little hole while her tongue laps at the slick that’s dripping out of you. Your pretty little skirt pushed up, your panties pushed to the side as she laps and sucks at your juices. She can feel you dripping onto her chin and it only makes her that much more eager to swallow every bit you have to offer. 

“We shouldn’t be doing this—” Fuck. Vi starts doing tricks with her tongue, sliding in another finger, pushing against the soft spot buried deep as she toys with you in the way knows best. “We, um, Vi we said just one night.” 

“Shut the fuck up and take it like a good girl. Or did you forget?” Vi moans into your cunt, the vibrations causing your thighs to shake under her mouth. “It’s not like you were complaining last night.” 

Vi silences you as her pace picks up, her fingers fucking you at such a pretty pace, feeling the build grow in the pit of your stomach edging to come to a full bloom. 

All of you begging for it to be released. Vi uses her free hand to slap your ass, sending you moaning and lurching forward. You push yourself back grinding against her tongue, before she removes her divine mouth as she kisses up your spine, her fingers stuffed inside you not faltering for a moment. 

Vi continues to kiss up your spine until she reaches the nape of your neck, her breath kissing your skin, your body shivers into her touch. Full lips ghost over your ear before whispering quietly, “Are you sure you want me to stop? I will if you want me to. I just thought you might wanna, you know, take my cock tonight. Give it a good ride.” 

The moan you let out would put Aphrodite’s to shame, needy and choked sobs escape you as her fingers thrust inside you faster than they have before. 

“Oh? Do you like the sound of that, babygirl? Want to show me how good you can be for me?” Vi doubled down on her efforts, enjoying how much you arched into her body, your hips pushing back as you grind into quick fingers. She’s fucking you better than well…anyone. 

“Vi, please.” Your voice catches in your throat, hoarse and full of need. An insatiable craving; one you fear only she can provide. A few mindless days and careless flirting to land in her sheets, her in yours, the details didn’t truly matter. A vampire out for blood, almost more venomous than precious canines breaking the skin, you yearned to suck on every last drop. But she didn’t seem to be in a mind frame to relinquish control. 

“Please what? I’m not sure if I understand you.” 

All of it, so tantalizing, so fucking infuriating. Three fingers inside you, effectively making you silent, shutting you up as she brings you closer to the edge. That’s the thing, truthfully, Vi has you right where she wants. Only a few thrusts away until you come undone around her. The black haired succubus increases the pace, thumb playing with your clit, her calloused fingers increasing your high as she applies more pressure on the thousands of nerve endings on your precious pearl. 

“Shit. You’re gonna pay for this.” 

“What? For making you come? I hardly constitute that as a crime.” 

Your hands reach for the counter top, you’re not sure what exactly you want, but Vi makes you come for the first time that night. It’s a game, the push and pull. Dangerous. Intoxicating. Some disposition falling far from your fingertips, a game to her and a downward hill spiral for you. Addiction festering next to an open wound and the only antidote can be found on her tongue. Tasting the devil’s mouth is one thing but swallowing the sensation of the woman you’re beginning to love is something else entirely. 

Vi, despite her best efforts not to, makes you fall over the edge. It’s more than her eager tongue and expectant mouth slurping at the vindication of your taste. The craving builds like an exposed vein. Her confidence irrevocably soars like a raven through the midnight sky. Even if Vi acts like she’s done this before, you could pull the curiosity intertwined with naivety a mile away. Violet has never done this before, not with a woman at least, you’re sure of it. She’s a fast learner and such a great accomplishment should replenish such a reward. 

With the energy you have left, you push your skirt down first, as Vi puts your underwear back in place. She doesn’t stop touching you. She can’t. There isn’t much she feels she has control over, this arrangement being one of them. She’s good at this and Vi enjoys it. Every other part of her life, failure surrounds her, her ability not to please anyone in her life. 

In a constant loop, she finds herself caught in the crossfire. Tugged between sister and lover, family and righteousness. Her enemy becomes her lover and lover becomes enemy — all of it poisons her blood and cures her core — and all of it makes her hear a voice she doesn’t recognize but it’s just as true as the four walls surrounding her. 

Oil and water. 

Collecting like scars on her porcelain skin, Vi feels herself sink like an obliterating star. There’s a wonder settled in her chest, it feels heavy and weak, two incapable fists unable to surround her heart with anything but loss, betrayal even. She can’t punch her way out of this one.

All of it wakes a fire in her chest, a dagger being punctured in her heart by the one Vi thought she could trust the most. She doesn’t want to admit it so she doesn’t. 

But this? It feels easy. 

She needs easy, light, even good. Maybe she doesn’t deserve it. 

Vi definitely doesn’t, the sentence flows like a never-ending stream of waterfall continuously drowning her. The blood on her hands stains her perception of all things pure, she wonders how she even sees you at all. How you see her more vividly than anyone, possibly even Cait. There’s no judgment, no snarky remark of where she comes from. Even if she thought there had once been love, Vi questions it now. 

When you come, it feels like a breath of fresh air, a golden wave washing over her sinful hands. Each stroke of gold, your grit and blind hopefulness soaks Vi’s entity. This is what she wants. There’s nothing more than this, someone she could love, who loves her. It’s uncomplicated but the feeling flees as you come to it. Vi can’t help but feel regretful as you cover your ass, it’s such a pretty sight. She can’t stop that she’s greedy, you’ve fed her for the first time in her life and now Vi feels full but she’s only human. 

A sinner always craves more. 

She lets her touch linger on the gold between your thighs, pushing the white substance back into you before Vi lets you feel how wet you are, the dripping slick feels uncomfortable caged into cotton underwear and she wants you to feel it. The breath Vi hears are still heavy, impossibly heavy, and there’s pride in hearing you center yourself, back pressed against her chest as Vi keeps you in place. 

The pleasure within your body begins to slither away as you come back into the angel you are and not the sexual deviant bent over the woman who never pulls her punches. 

“Felt good, yeah?” Vi says. Her angelic, sweeter than the cotton candy stick in your teeth, voice penetrates through. You like it too much. It shouldn’t make you feel as good as it does. Desperately, you want to keep this casual but you’re even losing your footing. 

You pride yourself on the lack of attachment; you don’t need it. Never really had. But then with her it seems to change even faster than the seasons, your wall breaks somehow in between from spring to summer. With intent, you move around, her bright eyes have darken a bit but the fading light looks brighter than you’ve ever seen it. 

Fuck, Vi is making this difficult. 

“You could say that.” You speak softly, a tremble in your voice occurs but Vi says nothing but she does smirk. “Can I ask you something?” 

You turn around and suddenly Vi is staring at your exposed cleavage, the one you use to draw in patreons and to fill your pockets with as many tips as one can muster. Vi had been one, a faithful one trying to drink her away to the bottom of every bottle until she found something else for her. Something that didn’t leave a burn in her throat. 

“What is it?” 

“Was it your first time? The first night?” 

Sheepishly, Vi blushes. For a second, she contemplates lying but you’d see right through it. Right through her. It would only take one look in her blues and you would know. 

“That obvious?” Vi struggles with her words next but she manages to murmur a lame excuse. “Stillwater didn’t leave much time for this.” 

“And after?” You tease but the sincerity in your eyes soothes her. 

“There could have been but there wasn’t. Some things just don’t fit.” Oil and water is what she wants to say but she bites her tongue. 

“You should have told me. I wouldn’t have been so, I don’t know, selfish?” 

“There’s nothing selfish about it. I wanted to make you feel good. Did you enjoy yourself?” This time she makes your skin feel hot. Fuck. 

“Yeah, I did enjoy myself,” you pressed against her as your arms loop around Vi’s necks to bring her closer “but I think it’s officially my turn to offer my services. Don’t you think so?” 

It’s how Vi ends up here, in your place, in your bed — soaked. 

If there was one thing you knew, it was how to please someone. You managed to pull whimpers out of her she didn’t even know existed. The desperate plea coming from her shivering body as she spilled in your mouth the first time sent a shiver down her spine, the band in her stomach snapping as you sloppily spit on her cunt, constant circles of pressure on her clit seeing nothing but your eyes look up at her. 

Not letting a single drop go to waste, you fucked Vi through it, swallowing her completely. Vi shed the wrap covering her chest next. Her body bruised from the pit fights but you couldn’t think of anyone more beautiful than her. You paid attention to her collarbones, neck, and her tits. Sucking on her nipples as Vi tries to come down from the high you placed her on, she doesn’t think she ever will. 

She tries not to think that she wanted these things with Caitlyn. Cait. Cupcake. 

Vi only allows herself to think of her when she’s dreaming, visions of what that could have been, what she used to be. All of it so trivial, so senseless when she thinks of you. How you make her feel is different and she tries not to think of what it all means. 

One night. 

Then two. 

Now three. 

In another life, maybe she was stronger, and didn't need to be wanted. Hell, even needed. She could wait for someone who she thought loves her but the other part of her doesn’t want to think, she wants to feel. Vi likes feeling the softness of your skin, the light in your laughter, the swell of your exposed chest, the way your greedy eyes take in her abs, your soft lips kissing every part of her skin. The smooth, the scarred, the unworthy — you take it all in such stride. 

“Do you want to stop? I think I lost you for a second.” You inquire to the pretty girl beneath you, her hands find your waist, creating makeshift circles on your hip bones. 

“No, that’s the last thing I want.” Vi brings you to her lips, capturing your bottom lip, tongue invading your mouth. She tastes herself as your tongue melts with hers and the rest of her worries melt away. It’s just you and her. “I want to keep going.” 

“Then tell me what you want, baby. I’ll do whatever you want. It’s yours if you want it.” 

It’s spoken as a reminder. All of this is her decision. Vi decides when she wants this, how she wants it, and you’re letting her take all of it in the way she needs. Vi tried not to think the first couple times, she never wanted her first time to be a big deal. Maybe with Caitlyn it could have been, but then she changed. 

Vi thought maybe she could too. So, she did. 

“Can you—” Vi stutters. Yet again her attention gets pulled to your tits, the softness of your stomach, she can’t stop looking at you. As if she’s trying to remember everything about you. She’s committed to it. Vi wants to remember the soft curves of your hips, the way you moan when she comes on your tongue. 

The sight of you looking down at her makes she lose every rational thought, she wants to commit to memory forever. It won’t be something she easily forgets. 

“Gotta speak up, babygirl. Especially if you want me to keep my attention focused on this pretty cunt of yours.” 

You sit between her legs, tilting your head, you look at her glistening pussy, the way it shines with her cum and your sloppy spit. It would look even more exquisite with a little more. Taking a beat as you take your time, you gather enough in your mouth before spitting slowly, Vi whimpering as your spit makes contact with her lower pair of lips. She couldn’t stop it, it slips and you’re grinning, hips desperately bucking to feel more of it. 

“F-Fuck, need your cock. Please? I need it more than anything.” Vi confesses. There’s no need for dignity, especially if she keeps it and you won’t give her what she’s itching for. 

“Yeah? Are you sure about it? Don’t want you backing out just in case you can’t be a good girl and take it.” 

She can take it but she can’t take the countless teasing, trapped underneath the images drowning in her mind. This is what she wants, someone to dissolve into her, make her forget everything that has happened, just a pretty girl with some pretty tits who knows how to fuck. Right? That’s all this is. It’s all it can be tonight. Her lip is busted from the fight tonight, knuckles bloodied and bruised, but you don’t seem to mind all that much. It’s all the same to you. Vi is all the same, that’s been clear from the start. 

Then, she decides to let her mind get shut off, let herself fall into you. You did know how to take care of her and tonight she would let you. 

“Let me know if it’s too much, okay?” 

“I promise.” 

Once the harness is on, you wedge yourself in between her thighs, tattooed and toned, brave and brawny but she transforms into someone else entirely once you’re sinking inside her warm walls. You think about what it would feel like to feel her. Is she clenching around your cock? Would you feel the throbbing heartbreak of her clit? What you can hear is the whimper, uncontrollable and breathtaking, you slip further into her as you make home in her beautiful cunt. 

She’s made it yours to take. You’d do anything and everything for her, the thought alone scares so you do what you do best, you grind your hips slowly. Not wanting to overwhelm her too quickly, it’s the first time she’s taking penetration and you want it to be good for her. 

“You’re so perfect. Doing so good for me, taking my cock like a fucking champ.” You whisper out, taking too much enjoyment in her getting lost in your soft thrusts. Vi’s chest starts to heave as her hips roll into yours. Vi never even imagined wanting this, or that she could really have it with someone else. It’s not like she’s experienced, she has nothing to compare it to, but it feels incredibly intimate. 

She likes how you’re being with her. Soft, gentle, delicate. Vi thought she’d never want to feel that way, but maybe it’s just under the right circumstance in the right light. 

“Shit, shit, shit” Vi chants as your hand grabs the headboard, giving her one particular powerful thrust. Perky tits spring to life, jolting against the sudden movement, her moan so fucking load, as you continue your movements. This time not as hard, but you pick up your pace, wanting to see if she would have any arguments against it but Vi doesn’t. Profanities and whimpers leave her mouth as you split her on your cock. Face half-smashed into the pillow, trying to muffle her moans and you offer this one mercy. 

She’s still shy. 

Now is a good time as any to fuck it out of her. 

“Do you want more Vi? Want me to go…faster?” Placing a hand on her abdomen, the abs defined and clenching as you halt your thrust for a moment. “Do you wanna feel me in your stomach, baby?” 

“Can you even do that? I’m not so sure you’re even capable. Looks like the rookie knows more moves than the veteran.” Vi bites back. But it doesn’t last for long. Vi thinks she must have said the wrong thing, pushed you too far, you slipped off her but only to move her body to the edge of the bed, placing her on all fours right in front of a very convenient mirror. 

“Fine. Thought I’d be sweet but that isn’t what you really want. If you want to get treated like a whore, I’ll fuck you like one.” You take a beat to appreciate her wonderfully sculpted back, the artwork is truly exquisite. It feels so much like her but the foolish girl is smirking at you through the mirror. 

You know you’ve been caught ogling at her body, checking out every inch of her exposed body, you slap her ass in retaliation but she just grinds her ass back onto you. 

“I’m waiting.” Teasingly, Vi arches her spine more. “Where’s the whore fucking you’re muling about?” 

In one move, you’re inside her, fucking her beautiful face into the mattress. Never in her life has she felt so full, so good, so sweet. You grab her by the meat of her hips, bringing you back on her repeatedly. Vi wonders what she would give to have this, have you, and the thought scares her just as badly. She instead focused on you. 

Tits bouncing as you thrust into her at a punishing pace. Divinely and so perfectly you, making her see stars, she feels trapped. Not in a punishing way, but in a way that has her never wanting to leave the entrapments of your coaxing cock. At this moment, this is where she’s meant to be, just a toy for you to use. 

But it’s more than what meets the eye. If Vi was just a toy, you’d be done after the first night. Tonight, you weren’t using her for your own pleasure. You seemed perfectly content to give. The shine in her eyes gave you something only she could, edging you even further, a constant wave hitting Vi like a tidal wave making home on the shore. 

“God, you’re just too perfect. Fuck, just like that, take what’s yours.” Bouncing back on the strap, the words fall from her lips before she can’t stop them. Overflowing like a water fountain, it’s before she really even realizes what she’s saying, it just feels right. 

“Mommy, please.” 

Vi has had those words on the tip of her tongue but not that you’re fucking her into a different dimension, she lets the aching plea slip from sinful lips. It’s only once but it’s enough to set you off. You pull Vi up, her gorgeous back pressed against your chest, sitting on your thighs as you fuck up into her. Brutally, she takes everything you have to give. 

Sweat glistening across her body, accentuating her chest as she tries to compose herself  but you don’t give her the option. No. It would be too easy, wouldn’t it?

“I want you to watch, Violet. Watch yourself when you cum, be a good girl and show me how pretty you look, hm? Wouldn’t wanna disappoint, Mommy, now would you?” 

Vi sucks on your middle digit, tongues swirling as she feels the tight band in her stomach, threatening to snap. She’s close. When the sensationally soft pad of your thumb applies pressure on her clit, Vi’s done for. 

“Shit, oh my fucking god, baby baby babbyyyyy.” Incoherent murmurs and moans come in abundance as Vi bounces herself your cock, falling right apart as you toy with her clit, fucking her through the impending high. Your other arm tweaks around and up, fingers squeezing her tits, over stimulating her as she slumps against you. 

It’s the easiest task ever done. Submit to you, your skilled fingers, the power of your sinfully sensational thrusts, she comes all over you. The powerful demeanor weakens before your very eyes. When you gently move her back on the bed, slipping out of her, Vi’s eyes begin to water from the loss. 

The first time getting strapped down is always a lot to handle, you’d still taken it easier on her, too afraid you would push her too far but by the blissed out eyes, she’d enjoyed herself. She had enjoyed herself and you couldn’t really ask for much more. 

When the both of you are cleaned up, Vi cuddles into your frame and you let her. Even if your first instinct is to push her away, saying something you know that’ll hurt her, none of it finds any merit on your tongue. For the first time, you find it difficult to turn away a pretty girl, her lips kissing your collarbones, up your neck until she finds home on your own lips, sloppily invading your mouth with your tongue. 

Hitting you where it hurts, she moans your name in her mouth, unable to contain the neediness she feels around you. It’s worse than Cait. This is pure addiction entangled with something carnal. Vi knows if she doesn’t get to fuck you again, you fucking her cunt again, she might as well give up on life now. 

“I could go again.” 

You chuckle. Of course she could. 

“Don’t know rookie, that might be all you can handle for the night.” 

It’s a challenge and you know she’ll bite the bait. 

With ease she gets on top of you, and just as if she’s done it a hundred times, Vi sinks on your cock, “I think I can handle another ride, don’t you?” 

[robotsandfrippary]

You can trace this all back to around 2009 when EA, Activision and other big publishers went and bought all the smaller studios and closed them. Pretty soon after that games became all about making money for some ephemeral corporate overlord. Bonuses dried up, disappeared or were used as incentive because "Yeah, the pay isn't as good as it should be but wait till your bonus at the end of a three year development cycle! It'll make up for that!"

And we believed them. We just wanted to make games and have a nice stable life. Prior to 2009, there were a lot of independant studios were the bonuses were seriously like $90-200k. Maybe more. Insomniac used to take it's entire staff and their families on a paid cruise after they finished a game. When my team released COD:WWII? Our release party was in the courthouse in San Francisco and we had to pay our own hotel rooms if we didn't want to drive home drunk. For AW we at least got a plus one and hotel fare, even if we only got to go to San Diego(less than an hour flight), spend the night and then go back home.

So we went from being able to comfortably afford a place to live in a(more reasonably priced tbf) Bay Area to having Senior game devs, people with 10+ years of experience, having to live with multiple roommates because they didn't make enough money.

We live in constant fear of the studio closing, getting laid off(which I think 50% of the industry is laid off atm), and we can't make new small indy companies because we don't have the money to without dealing with venture capitalists who will want say over the game.

The real reason "This Game sucks now!" is because we're so fucking burned out and people who don't work at the studio, play the games, play games at all, never have played games, are making the decisions about plot, game play, art, ect. We're trying to do more with less. To make a huge game like COD or Overwatch or anything, you're looking at wrangling at least five outsourced game studios being managed by one extremely depressed outsourcing manager because your staff locally is like 1/3 what you'd need to make a game 1/3 as big.

TLDR: People complain about the $60 for an unfinished game and I want to tell all of you that it is 100% the corporation's fault.

sorry, this went into a tangent. I'm big mad about all this bullshit.

I saw someone referencing that "what if a game with the depth of Disco Elysium but about finding lost cat in the Alps" tweet (to mock it, natch), and it finally made me figure out why I get angry when people mock that tweet

The reason we don't have games like that is not because they couldn't exist. It's a workers' rights issue.

[getmeoutofhell]

Art the clown x reader headcanons!!

a/n: i said i was gonna do these and i did. enjoy!! ;) forgot to mention that to pretend art won’t kill you.

warnings: this does contain smut headcanons as well! with some T3 spoilers ahead!!

SFW

first and foremost, art the clown is a cuddle monster. you can’t convince me otherwise. he loves coming home after a hard and tiring day to cuddle up next to you. (after you make him wash his ass.)

“art, what the hell are you doing?” you say that at least 5 times a day when he randomly decides so come and lick on your skin. more specifically, behind your ear. his favorite spot. you can’t count how many time you’ve side eyed him. 😂

once you met vicky, you started to become a little jealous about how much time they would spend together. leaving you to wonder if he’s cheating on you with her. but soon enough, he pushes those negative thoughts to the side.

he does ask you to marry him…eventually. is it a normal proposal?? fuck no. nothing is normal about him. you just wake up one day, and poof! there’s one of your work employees that you hate decapitated, with a letter saying ‘will you marry me? till death do us part? i love you, art. ;)’ you really had no choice but to say yes did you? so you did.

after he killed santa in T3 he immediately went to where you were to show you his new look. “wow baby, you look so sexy!” he loves when you compliment his attire. it makes him feel warm and fuzzy inside. 🥰

he’s a jealous man for real. he hates your friends and family. don’t let him meet them.

he rolls his eyes at you A LOT. so be ready to deal with his sass all damn day. sometimes when he’s being a bitch it pisses you off. “art stop. now.” when you get rough with him he starts to pout and puts on his puppy face. (kinda like the face he did after he took a shot at the bar.)

his serious face a shown way more after the events in T3. when’s he’s pissed off at you, the face comes out to let you know he’s not playing no games. do you stop bitching at him? no. you know he won’t kill you. so you take that as a chance to point out his bullshit when needed.

NFSW

now…let’s get into the freaky stuff. 😈👏🏾

he’s a hard dom. even when you’re on top, he’s a dom. it’s his way or no way even in the bedroom. you can try your absolute hardest to get him to sub but it won’t work. maybe, just maybe, he’ll sub.

good luck asking him to let you cum, that’s rare. very rare. he’ll look at you with the most shit eating grin before going in and out of you faster.

BACKSHOTS!! hard ones at that. in the santa outfit, juts imagine that…how his balls slap against you. his fingers will be all over your body. he acts like they’re glued on you in fact. he won’t take them off of your body until his finished.

speaking of finished, he holds himself back to make you suffer more. he won’t come until a little after you cum, making you become overstimulated quickly. he can’t help but laugh at your pathetic ways.

he LOVES blowjobs. especially after a hard day. he gets lazy, and wants you to do all the work. as always 🙄

he may try to fuck you in the ass (if you’re a girl.) if you’re down, that’s good!! if you’re not, that’s good too!! for a male reader he will definitely like fucking you in the ass. he likes how warm and stretchy it can get, and will stretch it to it’s limits even past that point if you let him.

for my last headcanon in this section, he will cum all over your back and anywhere he finds necessary. hope you like it! :)

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for S; I was given dealer's choice and picked "the puzzle trap sex-room". tw: discussion of past dubcon/underage sex, past grooming, unhealthy coping mechanisms. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“Kid,” Superman says slowly, because “Kid” is what he calls him when he’s pretending he’s talking to a person and doesn’t wanna acknowledge the fact that he is definitely not, and Superboy tries not to bristle. “Why do you think that?” 

Superboy cannot, actually, think of a single more bullshit question for Superman to ask him, especially in front of Batman and Robin. 

“Because I’m not,” he snaps irritably. “Seriously, why is this relevant? Why is any of this relevant? I’m clean enough not to have gotten Robin sick and I only did this ‘cuz I didn’t want him to get his fucking caped ass blown off and Tana isn’t anyone here’s business, so what the fuck else do you all want from me?” 

“Testimony, possibly,” Batman says. “The statute of limitations is still in effect.” 

Superboy is definitely gonna disassemble the Batcave. Disassemble it into rubble. They want him to talk to Superman about how he’s not a person and Robin thinks he needs a fucking shrink and Batman wants to talk shit about Tana like she’s anything like–like she actually–and even Knockout didn’t even do anything like that, anyway, she was just a shitty person who wasn’t always fun to fuck, that’s all! 

“Fuck you,” he snaps, clenching his fists. “Literally all of you. Literally this entire conversation. I’m fucking leaving.” 

He doesn’t give a shit where the door is. He’ll make a door. He’ll– 

“Kid,” Superman says, still all slow and too-careful, and actually, Superboy hates hearing that word in his mouth. 

It’s just what people call him because he doesn’t have a real name.

[b-lossm]

•+*I'm high and I'm bi-- WAIT I mean I'm straight*+•

Sevika x highfem!reader

Synopsis: after smoking with her at a party you accidentally tell her you like her because she looks smoking hawt :P

warning: getting high, obviously, but neither of them r stoners, guys tbh idk how to write smoking I dont do it 😭

Also idk if its like clarified but Sevika still has a mech arm, don't ask me how because she's a broke college student

You where invited to this listening party for this music group by Sevika, while asking you for your address she said something about a WolfGang or a WeirdFuture?? idk you don't get it, you where too focused in on the fact that your biggest crush invited you to this party "So I'll pick you up at 6?" she gives you a sly smirk "Oh! um yeah.." you smile awkwardly, your makeup; thankfully, covers up your bright red face, but your ears betray you "you nervous or somethin'?" she moves a little closer, she can smell your vanilla perfume you put on just moments before when you saw her coming, see the tiny, tiny hearts you put at the end of your eyeliner "you smell nice" Sevika chuckles and backs up, starting to walk away "See ya later angel"

oh see her later you did...

When she picked you up you wouldn't have known it but she was giving herself a pep talk, telling herself that she had the responsibility of keeping you all safe and nice, if she didn't the idea of kissing you goodnight was out of the window.

As you put on your shoes and your perfume you hear a knock on the door "Coming!!" rushing over to the door you quickly check yourself in the mirror to make sure you look nice for her while grabbing your purse with the cute little keychains that you and Sevika match with, her's stays on the carabiner that lives on one of the left beltloop of her jeans-- anyways you then open the door to see her in a outfit that matched yours in a more masculine way "oh? so your copying me now Angel?" She teases, resting her arm against the doorframe to lean towards you "o--oh no, um, its okay! I could um change!" bullshit, you had no idea what the freak to wear other then that "Nahh keep it" she chuckles, looking you up and down, stopping at your plush lips "S' real cute.." Sevika stands up straight, leading you to her truck and opening the passengers seat for you, even buckling you in "Ya' ready Angel?" she looks to you for a second before starting her car "um.. yeah!" you smile nervously as you play with the edge of your cardigan "Hey, none of that Angel" Sevika reaches over and offers her hand to play with so you don't mess up your clothes

The drive to the Venue was quiet short, it was filled with you and Sevika talking about random stuff, but eventually it turned into Sevika warning you about what's probably gonna happen at the party "But don't worry Princess, I wont let anyone pressure you into doing stuff you wouldn't wanna" Sevika grabs your hand and squeezes it a few times to reassure you that your safe with her. You look away and giggle softly "Thank you Sevika.." you smile softly at her and squeeze her hand back. You two then pull up to the venue, a warehouse but not the abandoned type "We're here, you still wanna do this Angel?" Sevika checks in on you one last time "Let's go 'Vika" you smile back at her, nerves practically gone as she comes around to your door to unbuckle and help you out

--

Well you never thought you'd be doing this. Currently your cuddled up next to Sevika on this couch outside- away from the noise of this guy singing about Tamales while smoking a blunt one of her friends named Domo rolled "hehehehhe" you giggle at her she can tell-- you are gone "You okay Angel? Having a good trip babes?" she blows smoke from her nose, leaving stars in your eyes "S-Sevikakaaaaaa" you whine "y--your too hot! a--and you keep teasin' me!" she blushes and chuckles "fuck.." she mumbles "Not on purpose Angel" "bullshit" you giggle and cuddle deeper into her, causing her to hoist you up on her lap "agghhghhh you caught me" Sevika blows more smoke out of her nose while chuckling and passing the blunt to you "t-this is m' laaast one.." you giggle and take a puff, knowing that was a lie "H--Hey S'vika...y--ya knnow.....I--I realllly really like you.." you giggle into her neck and pass it back to her.

Sevika's world stops for a second, she had a hunch that you where into girls but always dismissed it, she chuckles and takes it "Oh really? This isn't the Green talking right..? you didn't take anything while I looked away hm?" Sevika starts to rub shapes into your side "n-nuh uh... i- i write about you in my journal like,, like,, everyday" your practically melting into her touch "hmm.. interesting,, I think we should take you home now right Angel?" you whine softly and she coos in your ear "Cant have this Angel not sleeping in her bed hm? I'll get the uber" as she pulls out her phone you tug at her arm "H--hey that guy just said some lyric that is so mee Sevika!" you giggle "M' high and i'm bi" you repeat the line in a sing-song voice "Is that so.." Sevika unfortunately pulls you off of her lap and then guides you to the front towards your uber "Lets go, we can get m' truck tommrow"

--

The next day you wake up with a start, a dry throat and a fuzzy head, and a certain 6 foot woman standing at your doorframe "boo" she chuckles as you jump a little bit "I- um.. I made breakfast" she looks away, "you should come eat before it gets all cold angel.." she walks off into your kitchen with you in tow, smiling as you see the breakfast sandwich she made you two "aww thanks Sevika" you sit next to her, not wanting the table to get in the way of you two "so um.. what happened last night?" 'please don't say we fucked and i don't remember-- please please don't say we fucked and i don't remember--' you repeat in your head as you try to nonchalantly eat your sandwich but you look like a blushing mess "you don't remember?" she smiles teasingly "we got high at this party and you told me you liked me" 'oh fuck that's worse' "O--Oh!" Sevika leans in to kiss your head "Don't worry it was cute.. afterwards we caught an uber and I took off your makeup, changed you then we slept okay? Nothing happened don't worry" chuckling she moves back to eat her sandwich, almost choking on it as she feels your soft lips press against the corner of hers "M' glad that's settled.. thank you for taking such good care of me.." while coughing she looks away "Its um-- noproblemi'lldoanythingforyou" she mumbles and quickly scarfs down her sandwich while you giggle, who knew the scariest senior on campus was such a softie all for you..

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

I love OddFuture :P

upnext

sevika 1

hcs 1

sevika 2

hcs 2

change 3 and possibly 4

sevika 3

[artbyblastweave]

To be honest, while I know that you've discussed a Worm/Marvel "crossover" before, considering how unusually different both Ultimate Universes are from mainline Marvel, how would a crossover with Worm go for those?

(Side note: I'm mainly asking for the potential thought experiment of: what if Cauldron met the Maker and all of the immense bullshit that would result from that.)

I don't think I'm totally capable of answering the back half of this ask because I haven't read The Maker comprehensively- Aside from his pre-heel turn stint in Ultimate FF, It's basically only Secret Wars, a couple of the times Ewing used him, and the current New Ultimate Universe.

So what I find interesting about this prospect is that Worm and Ultimate Marvel are very aesthetically compatible, right, you aren't going to drop one character into the other's setting and have them constantly going "what the fuck is going on" the way you would if we subbed in 616 Marvel at it's most four-color. But the worldbuilding and themes are actually very divergent in ways that are interesting to look at. Namely-

Worm is a grim, grim setting, but it's also attempting to replicate the status quo at Marvel and DC where, despite occasional attempts at government sanction or integration, there's fundamentally a weirdly high cultural tolerance for independent vigilantism as long as the person doing it is wearing a costume. Their version of Registration- The Protectorate- is a very carrot heavy initiative, when we see Kid Win making the recruitment pitch to Chariot it's all about the support you get, the funding, the backup, the PR help. Individual street level heroes get nailed to the wall or hung out to dry all the time, but collectively, they're granted a lot of discretion in that they're allowed to exist at all. And the fundamental reason for this is that the government is scared of them. They might be able to smack down individual upstarts who try to go full warlord or revolutionary, but they don't control the overall distribution of powers and there are so many of these assholes, three-quarters of whom go career criminal due to some combination of trauma, material want, neuroticism or ideology. So any set of norms that gets as many of these people as possible to behave in a slightly-less-antisocial manner is something that they're going to roll with. Worm is a world held hostage by the typical superhero paradigm, buckling under its weight. Crucial to this dynamic is that powers aren't a man-made phenomenon, and they're barely a man-influenced phenomenon via Cauldron.

But with the Ultimate Universe, a major pillar of the deconstruction and the worldbuilding is that superheroes would not be allowed to operate in the typical wild west paradigm. There's a much stronger divide between sanctioned heroes (The Ultimates, The Fantastic Four), grey-zone heroes like the X-Men, and then the out-and-out outlaw street level heroes like Daredevil and Spider-Man. A major plot point is that Nick Fury and his spooks very predictably figure out who Spider-Man is almost immediately; he's only able to continue operating as a street-level hero in the usual manner due to Fury's implicit sanction, because Fury is trying to groom him to eventually join The Ultimates. Moreover, a lot of the rest of the street-level capes (as depicted in Millar's Ultimates) are cast as genuinely incompetent puds, only not cracked down on because there's no real reason to. (Note that I have a seething hatred for this particular beat in practice because it deprived us of an Ultimate Luke Cage worth having, but I get what Millar was gesturing at with it.) All of this, likewise, is downstream of the fact that powers are almost totally a man-made phenomenon, with almost all superhumans being downstream of Military-Industrial Complex attempts at reproducing Captain America; it's not an out-of-control supernatural phenomena that they're trying to get in on, It's a government-made phenomenon that leaks like a sieve and eventually spirals out of control. The Ultimate Universe is fundamentally about Hubris in a way that Worm isn't.

Both settings converge on a state of societal collapse due to the advent of superpowers; Ultimate Marvel was gesturing at an impending superhuman-driven World-War Three for a while before things spiraled into the comparably destructive nonsense of Ultimatum, The Maker, The (partial?) balkanization of the U.S. and the rest of the crisis cavalcade that led into the 2015 Secret Wars and the total destruction of that universe. Worm suffered the much more tightly-directed Apocalyptic Bad Time with which we're all familiar.

As for a crossover premise, I'd have to say that post-gm Taylor getting marooned on 1610 and winding up in the orbit of 1610 Peter Parker specifically- as opposed to the MCU or 616 versions, with whom I've seen this done- is an underexamined hook. Ultimate Spidey represents a deft integration of Peter's best and worst personality traits. The early-run ditko-style dickishness is recontextualized as an anger about the state of the world, the crazy-making sense that bullies and dictators appear to have free run of the world and nobody but him is doing anything about it. Which, given the state of The Ultimate Universe, falls in the middle ground between typical teenaged myopia and a sober assessment of what he's up against.

Remind you of anyone?

[rookthebird]

s1 fic where Viktor goes to a doctor who's not his usual during an emergency, explains he needs an extra dose of medication because he needs to help his partner cut the ribbon on a Hexgate, and gets hit with the Martha Mitchell effect.

From Wikipedia: "The Martha Mitchell effect occurs when a medical professional labels a patient's accurate perception of real events as delusional, resulting in misdiagnosis." Martha Mitchell was a Watergate whistleblower who was deemed delusional; a modern equivalent might be Kam Brock, a woman who was hospitalized after a car crash, mentioned she was a banker and that Obama followed her on Twitter (both true) and got forcibly hospitalized for over a week, as well as many chronic illness patients who are hospitalized when doctors don't believe their symptoms (warning: harm to children at link)

So: Viktor stumbling into an urgent care clinic on the way to watch Jayce unveil their latest invention. He's slurring his words and his accent is stronger than usual (drunk, the doctor notes down,) he's pale, sweaty, and feels like he can't breathe (anxiety, the doctor writes,) and he's worried about how much pain he's in (ZAUNITE ADDICT, underlined twice in big block letters.)

viktor gets pissed. he didn't deal with everything he survived at the academy, in his career, and from other idiots to be treated like this. he starts playing the "respectfully, do you have any idea who I am," card because this is bullshit.

now he's in a cop van, coughing up blood. that's that medical gaslighting espresso. getting brought to a psychiatric ward in handcuffs because he said he was one of the founders of hextech? all right, he's not the one on the posters, and he doesn't give as many interviews, but surely this is a bit excessive.

meanwhile jayce is pacing backstage. the investors are urging him to say a few words, but he's like "I can't do this, not without Viktor here. He would never miss this- what if something happened to him?" he stalls for 10 minutes in front of an audience, watching every entrance to see if Viktor is able to make it. slowly, it becomes clearly that Viktor isn't coming. something clearly happened to him.

Jayce drops his notes and bolts.

He knows the exact route Viktor would need to take to get here and everywhere he might have stopped along the way. Bribing some children playing hopscotch in the street reveals that "the man with the strange walk went into the doctor's office, and then the Enforcers went in too!"

Jayce is about to make Vi look like the absolute fucking model of judgement and restraint.

[littlerosetrove]

If I may add, as you've pointed out in some ways, that Buck was honestly OOC in the restaurant scene in particular on purpose just to make the whole breakup stuff ""make sense.""

Repeating here, but in regards to Buck:

I don't believe for a second Buck doesn't know what the Kinsey Scale is at this point.

I don't believe that after six fucking months of dating, Buck doesn't know that his boyfriend is gay. Like 100% gay.

In relation to the previous point, I don't believe, therefore, Buck would be asking his Very Gay Boyfriend, that he knows is gay, "are you really not attracted to women, even a little bit?" Be soooo for real.

Buck Just Said their six month anniversary is special, so you CANNOT convince me he didn't get Tommy a gift. Please.

I don't believe Buck would be acting so weird about a random woman flirting with him. As OP said, at worst he'd unintentionally flirt back, but if the writers were writing Buck realistically, he'd tell the woman "That's nice, but I'm here with my boyfriend and it's our anniversary. You have a nice night."

Everything about the breakup was bullshit.

i started thinking about 8x06 and i got mad again. I'm literally never not going to be mad about that fuckery. god help me from the restaurant scene with the “yOu'Re AlLOwEd tO LoOK” bullshit, Buck being flustered because a woman is flirting with him SINCE WHEN??? at worst he would have flirted back (accidentally or on purpose), at best he would have said no can do, I'm celebrating my 6 month anniversary with my boyfriend here. “I don't know what the Kinsey scale is” HE WOULD NOT FUCKING SAY THAT or the fact that he doesn't know his boyfriend is gay!!! after 6 months!!! and the worst is they wrote this scene only as a set up for Tommy to talk about his past of dating women for the Dramatic Reveal

which sucks even worse because the fact is that Tommy's ex fiance could've been literally any random woman from the greater LA county area and it would have made so much more sense without retconning Abby's and Tommy's canon from s1 & s2!!!!! her boyfriend broke up with her because he was an asswipe who couldn't handle that she was caring for her sick mother, not because he was gay!!!! Tommy sat at a bar with his colleagues and said he doesn't date because women can't handle his job because he was gay and closeted, not fucking engaged!!!!!

you want Buck freaking out because his boyfriend hurt people because he was living a lie, fine. you want to put him in a room with Josh and have him wax poetic about glee, fine. both of these things could happen without the mutual ex connection. literally bringing some nonsense fanon theory into your show... for what, exactly? we know you didn't plan it that way since the beginning, so it doesn't make you look smart. we know you stole the idea from the fandom, so it doesn't make you look good. it served no purpose and ruined already established satisfying canon facts. was it to have Maddie make a homophobic joke about a woman she never even met turning men gay? after her brother had explicitly told her he still likes women? you wanted that biphobic joke in there? congrats, you ruined Maddie's character too in this scene. well done.

fuckass tim minear when i catch you....

[soodoonimin]

See the thing is, I don’t think Logan actually likes to sleep (literally) with Wade. I’m sure you all know why and you might think this is another “Wade convinces Logan it’s okay to stab him in his sleep bc he can’t die” post, but it isn’t.

Because I don’t think that it’s something Logan would budge on and I think it’d actually be a real issue for their relationship. I think Wade would try to sneak into bed with Logan but even he didn’t wake up immediately because of the shift in weight or just because he could smell him, when he woke up in the morning Logan would be furious with him because even if his episodes don’t happen that often, they still happen and he doubts they’ll ever go away.

Wade hates it, hates it so much and of course because it’s Wade his insecurities get the best of him, at some point he thinks it’s because Logan is disgusted with him. But really? Logan can’t stand the thought of hurting someone he loves. Like yeah sure Wade can’t die but even Logan knows it still hurts like hell. Even Logan knows that there’s still a few minutes before the healing factor has fully stitched him that he can feel the blood pouring out of him and even though he’s used to it, it’s terrifying. Your brain is still thinking about survival and your body is still feeling pain.

So the fact that Logan won’t sleep with Wade is a huge point of contention in their relationship and I think when they finally have the fight about it Logan says something like “I don’t want to hurt you, no matter how many times you’ll heal because I love you. What don’t you fucking understand about that?”

And poor Wade just breaks down sobbing because only Vanessa ever called him out on his bullshit like that and goddamn it doesn’t it just feel good to have someone love you so much that they don’t want to see you hurt even if you’re willing to hurt for them?

So yeah they don’t sleep together at night and Wade still hates it’s but at least on the nights when his thoughts are going haywire he knows that in the morning he can go to Logan and have all those fears put to rest. He knows that Logan loves him and if things were different they’d be sharing a bed but for now he’ll just have to be content in the knowledge that this is something Logan needs and maybe one day they’ll be able to sleep in the same bed together.

[host-hubliminal]

>>START_LOG: HostLog_10: Subject: Host 2.6 Name: Clock Species: Alarm Clock(?) Source: It’s Time For The It’s Time For The It’s Time For The It’s Time For The It’s Time For The For The For The For The The // Channel 57 Gender: Unknown Pronouns: he/him (source needed) Description: Clock is a mint-colored, traditional-faced alarm clock. Clock is notable due to having heavy algebrien features; much like Host 2.7, despite their dimensions not being near one another. Clock’s limbs are slim, lighter than his body color and resemble that of a mouse in structure, despite having notable paw pads. Clock has a cord plug tail. It is worth noting that Clock’s current appearance differs from his (possible) previous appearance, which lacked the distinct algebrien features and instead was fully an object, implying that this transformation could happen to any ordinary object under the right circumstances. His past object appearance had more accurate mouse-like limbs. It is unknown if his past object appearance had a tail. Surprisingly, his behavior is more like an algebrien in mannerisms than that of an Object. His speech is quick, choppy, and will sometimes seem to layer out of nowhere. Clock does not mess around when it comes to being quick about things and is very time-oriented. [Addendum./ Wow. Like. Who the FUCK comes up with the names for these guys. Clock? Being a Clock? And being time oriented? What is this, a kids show? Next thing we know he’s going to get up and sing a song about time. Wow. Fuck man. My life feels like a joke knowing that this fucker is real, alive, and exists. Don’t even get me STARTED on Four and X being a number and a variable who are both obsessed with MATH. The most obvious fucking shit on the planet. I mean who just gives birth to a child and goes ‘oh yeah let’s call this one Clock because he’s a clock’. The only somewhat normal one here is Airy. He’s the only one whose name ISN’T the same as his object, but I’m also 80-90% sure he’s a ghost or something because he barely talks and has said he’s died twice. God. I don’t get paid enough for this bullshit.] Clock is unpredictable. Unlike Host 2.9, his chaoticness is not out of violence, but at the same time he is proven to be capable of doing heavy damage. Like Host 2.8, Clock’s chaoticness is emotionally tied, but stronger and more exaggerated.  Known Abilities: Clock’s abilities mirror that of a standard algebrien. Only things worth noting is that his tail can extend long distances and he can ‘abstract’ objects much like Host 2.9. Whether or not this is due to their dimensions being in close proximity to one another is up for debate. Another thing to note is his… ‘quality errors’. Static, bursts of sudden form changing, and the like. Sometimes these will get violent but so far they only seem to affect Clock and nobody else around him. Whether or not this is an ability or more of just a condition Clock has is up for debate. Procedures to take: A mix of Algebrien and Object power hindrance protocols will be put into place. Force may be applied if deemed necessary. END_LOG.

[highdefinitions]

on today's episode of the twitter uncles hating mitch marner for just being alive, they've turned to body shaming him

[demadogs]

some of you need to hate ai way more than you currently do

[xxplastic-cubexx]

it doesnt need to be said but its genuinely so funny how at-the-hip charles and erik are in krakoa like they really had the green light- the OBLIGATION- to be as obnoxiously close to each other as possible and abused that right to the fullest extent

[gods-perfect-idiots]

something something blood-soaked hands cradling your face something something

anyway here's the post btw

[autisticrosewilson]

So do you guys actually think that Jason's entire story, relationship to the others, and philosophy amounts to him being a rebellious teen who wants his dad's attention? Like are you 100% serious? I thought you were joking about that but too many of you are saying it with your whole chest.

And what the fuck is this "Bruce antagonizing Jason is fanon!" Shit I've been seeing? You guys are aware that a parent can love their kid and still be a shit parent right? I know you guys don't want to fathom the thought that maybe your blorbo might also occasionally have to face responsibility for consistently endangering children but let's not start being delusional now.

Bruce does love his kids, that doesn't mean that he hasn't hurt them. And I'd also argue that for the most part he feels in the right for it, and he's said multiple times that he believes it's for their own good, so you can't even argue that he's sorry about it. It's okay for you guys to admit that your PERSONAL INTERPRETATION of the character wouldn't do that but don't sit here and pretend that it's not a facet of the source.

[moongothic]

WAIT WAIT WAIT HOLD THE FUCKING PHONE

So normally we only get fullblown, extended and dedicated flashbacks for heroic characters in One Piece, the characters who we're meant to root for. The literal only TRUE exception we've had to this rule was Big Mom's flashback. Even fucking Doflamingo's flashback was tied to Law and Rosinante's

So the fact that we haven't gotten a single fucking GLIMPSE at Crocodile's backstory is?!?

Like sure, we haven't gotten like a Moria flashback, but you know, he literally told us all we needed to know himself, AND we got to see glimpses of him in the Wano flashbacks. Arlong didn't get a flashback of his own, but he did get to cameo in Fisher Tiger's flashback. And Rob Fucking Lucci got a flashback that was 6 whooping panels long

BUT CROCODILE?? Not only do we know almost Fuck All about his story, but also have never gotten as much as a glimpse at it? But his backstory has been HINTED and TEASED at multiple times??

GUYS. FELLAS

Like. I am SURE the "Full Backstories for Heroes Only" rule is going to get broken again, but with Imu and Blackbeard already there just BEGGING to have their beans spilled, can we even be sure Sir Fucking Crocodile is somehow going to become A Villain So Dangerous To The Narrative that he ALSO should also recieve a Full Fucking Backstory?? For his Nefarious Schemes?? AT THIS POINT??

Y'all

I think it's more likely Oda's been saving up Croc's backstory because it might just completely recontextualize his entire character