#so the whole point is that there's other ways and we will always try for something better

[peachesofteal]

more pizza girl

You're fucked.

It's the only way to explain how you feel, standing in the store, staring at bottles of liquor, wine, beer. You don't even know if this is the appropriate thing to do, but you've always seen it in shows, movies, so it must be, right?

You should have said no to this whole thing, should have told them you're busy, or you're working, or you had plans, but for some reason, you just knew they'd see through it. They'd call your bluff.

So here you were, staring at a rack of wine, trying to pick something to take to their house for dinner.

Even the thought is a marvel. You're not a complete shut in, you visit the few friends you have on occasion, your family, attend work functions, but this is different.

You know it is.

"Excuse me?" A petite old lady chirps at your shoulder, and you turn. "Do you need help?"

"Oh, um... no."

"You sure? It's just you've been standing here for almost thirty minutes." Fuck. 

"I'm fine." It comes out more assertive than you would have liked, and she backs away without another word. Great. 

You choose a six pack and book it out of there.

Their place is cozy. Not too small, not too big, clean and organized, orderly.

Except for the dog.

He's massive. 

And slobbery.

And... not for you.

Simon realizes immediately, and herds him away behind a baby gate, where he promptly slumps to the floor and closes his eyes, tongue hanging from the side of his mouth.

"He's..."

"Ye dinnae have to say cute. We know he's not."

"He's a mutt," Simon tells you, placing a bowl of something hot on the table, "but he's ours. Rescued him an' everything. Never liked pets but... found him on the street an' for some reason couldn't leave him behind."

"That's so sweet." He shrugs, Johnny rolls his eyes.

"Didnae tell me a thing. Just came home with a giant slobbering bear." You eye the table and it's three chairs, suddenly overflowing with anxiety. Which one should you pick? Which ones are theirs? Do they sit next to each other? Doesn't someone always sit at the head of the table? "Take a seat wherever," Johnny coaxes but you remain frozen, avoiding their eyes.

A hand folds over your shoulder with gentle, careful pressure, and warmth. "This one." Simon urges you towards the one in the middle, and you relax, grateful.

"Sorry." You mumble, but Johnny reaches across the table and squeezes your hand.

"Ye dinnae have anything to be sorry for. We're really happy you came."

"I... I'm glad I came too." The admission tries to stick in your throat before you force it free, and they reward you with soft smiles.

"Let's eat then."

Dinner passes in a breeze. It's so easy to sit with them, be around them. Involved in their conversation but comfortable enough to bow out of it too, and just listen. They're very good at navigating it, knowing when to stop and go, when to ask you something, and when to move on.

"If you want to stay for a bit, we were thinking about watching a movie. Afraid we're not really exciting." Simon calls over his shoulder, unfolding his glasses and slipping them on his face.

"Oh." Just do it, do it, do it- "Okay."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah but no... nothing scary. I can't do those." Johnny jerks his head towards the couch.

"Nothin' scary."

Simon doesn't give you the opportunity to stress over the seating arrangement this time, and points immediately to the left side of the couch. "The button down on the side will extend the footrest, and it can lean all the way back."

"Wow." Johnny settles on the other side, and Simon takes up an overstuffed armchair to your right.

Lots of distance. You kind of feel sad about it.

Your eyelids start to droop after an hour, and no matter how hard you fight it, you're in a losing battle. "I think I should go home." You mumble, and Simon pauses the screen.

"You alright?"

"I'm falling asleep." You don't make any moves to get up, instead curling in closer, tucking your hands under your cheek. The room is warm, the couch is soft, and the dog is snoring, which is comforting, in a weird way. "Should call an uber."

"We'll drive ye."

"No, no... I'm-" you yawn. You don't want to move, and when no one says anything, you let your eyes close for a few minutes. Just a few minutes.

In the dark, who knows what time or how many minutes or hours later, a blanket is tucked around your shoulders, shoes slipped off your feet, and someone strokes your cheek, trailing up over your forehead and away, lingering briefly.

"Sleep tight sweet girl."

[merrydoom]

As funny as these memes are, they drive home to me that the general public doesn't really understand capitalism or how evil billionaires really are. To achieve that level of wealth, it isn't a matter of having accumulated something as "concrete" as money in a savings account. Billionaires COULD "lose it all" in a few weeks because getting to that level of wealth requires multiple balls in air at any given time. Debts and credit lines and funds and corporations and real estate. Stock and other speculative, theoretical values assigned to things that aren't real but require large amounts of human suffering to attain.

Billionaires don't have 999 million USD in their accounts. That's part of why they never see themselves as "rich". Why they always feel like they need more, because capitalism only works if they are trying to get more. At that level of wealth, if you are not making more, you are LOSING "money". There is no keeping what you have made and stopping. It's either accumulating or depleting.

This is also why ethics are penalized and viewed as a nieve hindrance more and more as you work up through wealthier and wealthier circles. It is that every person has a level of ethics that acts as a limitation to how far they are willing to go on that ladder. The richer someone is the more they are going to view what you consider standard human empathy as a stupid fairy tale that you haven't realized "nobody actually lives by" because it holds you "back".

That's also why wealth is best predicted by birth. It isn't only that they have massive boosts to generate wealth. (Money makes money) it's that kids raised in groups that socialize them to believe that level of selfishness is normal have a leg up on everyone still trying to act in prosocial ways.

The next time you hear our politicians say something about being middle class, or rationalize that they aren't part of the elite, or some other tone deaf Comment about how broke they really are: remember that they really believe it. Because they are always conscious of how close they are to sliding down. The same as the rest of us. EVERYONE feels like they are just about to lose it and fall into the pit of not making ends meet. That is the way the system is set up to function. That is how capitalism works.

It isn't a bad system that enables bad people to take advantage of everyone else. Capitalism is EVIL. It rewards and REQUIRES evil to function, and it never rewards anyone playing with a feeling of peace or safety. The only prize that the billionaires have won is that they know they are better off than the majority of the world. That's it. That was the whole trophy. They don't feel peace. They don't feel safe. They don't feel complete or like they have achieved their potential. Their entire point of living is to cause suffering to everyone so that they know they are better off.

It isn't about having enough money. The purpose is to know that we don't have enough.

[syluss-littlecrow]

diet pepsi

<Zayne x fem!reader>

losing all your innocence in Zayne's backseat 💙

where a night drive with Zayne ends up having you him deciding to find ways to amp up the cold temperatures in his backseat.

genre/warnings: smut, pwp, car sex, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, windows get fogged & car seats get hot, based on the song Diet Pepsi, orgasms, breeding kink (r u surprised at this point), fingering

w/c: 1.7k

a/n: here's a little icy treat for the girlies out there. I actually think this song is so delicious, and I just had to use this for Zayne's fic. Enjoy as always, thank you for reading & supporting 💙

You used to dislike the rainy weather because of the way the wetness and humidity would ruin your plans. Not to mention, you hated getting your hair wet.

The monsoon season is still going strong–some days the rain barely letting the sun shine. 

Well, this was one of those days. 

Zayne’s hands are relaxed on your thigh, managing the steering wheel with one hand.

The rain continues to patter on, filling the car with the sound of rain. It's actually relaxing, you think, especially when Zayne is calmly by your side. 

“You're smiley tonight”, Zayne points out, his eyes not leaving the road.

“How would you know?” You tease. “Your eyes are on the road!”

“I just do. Aren't things like that common when you have a partner? I know you well enough, y/n.” 

A soft squeeze to your thigh. 

He doesn't realise how far up his hand is on your thigh and your heart is suddenly fluttering.

So is your pussy.

You pat your cheeks to calm yourself down. There was something about Zayne just driving you through the rain with his hand squeezing your thigh, and how the whole car smells just like him.

“Are you cold? I feel goosebumps all over your thighs”, Zayne points out, his eyes still on the road.

At the red light, he’s able to focus his attention fully on you.

“I'll increase the heating-” he turns to look at you, noticing the pink that's flushed on your cheeks. 

“I'm still cold”, you half-lie.

“We'll drop by to get some heating packs at the convenience store. Bear with it a little longer”, he comforts you, this time taking your hand in his, pressing his lips against the back of your hand, the warmth spreading all over. 

Suddenly you feel greedy. You want him to kiss more places than just the back of your hand.

Zayne parks at the nearest store, ready to open the doors and leave. The car park is practically empty, with some cars sparsely parked. 

He's about to open the car door until your fingers are curled around his tie. 

“Zayne… could we find…other ways to warm up?” 

It takes seconds for Zayne to catch on quickly. 

Zayne watches you crawl to the backseat, the smell of your perfume and the sight of your dress pushing up, just shy of your panties, makes him breathe a little harder.

He pushes his seat forward, then opens the driver's side of the door. 

While his hands loosens his navy tie, he watches you through the backseat window–the way you stare at him while you roll your lace panties off your legs. 

He swallows hard, still trying to keep his strings of rationale intact. But the way you're fucking teasing him like this can only hold him back so much. 

He slams the car door behind him, trapping both of you in the vehicle, his lips immediately devouring yours so desperately. His requests for more come in soft whimpers. Zayne lets his hands wander all over your body, tugging your dress down past your tits, making you gasp at the cold air that hits you.

His lips travel down your neck, each time his lips leave a blazing trail that melts into your skin. 

“It's cold, Zayne”, you mumble, your hands running through his jet black locks.

“And we’ll warm each other up”, he replies. You feel the warmth of his palm travel dangerously down your thigh to your hips. 

His slender fingers travel down south until he feels your warm and wet pulsing cunt. You watch him wet his fingers with his tongue, then back to his favourite spot. His fingers circle around your wet pussy hole, and then his fingers plunge in, sending electric shocks of pleasure through your spine. He curls his fingers in you, watching you in awe, your hips lifting off the car seat, your moans competing with the wet sounds your cunt is making.

"Look at you, already soaking wet", he teases, making sure you hear the way your cunt squelches when he slowly pulls his fingers out, your juices decorating his fingers, glistening under the dim lights. He makes you watch him lick his tainted fingers clean, the taste of you dusting Zayne's cheeks a soft shade of red.

"Zayne, please", your fingers tug against the sleeve of his dress shirt. "It's not enough."

Zayne chuckles, and he pushes your legs further apart. "Of course it isn't. I know your body best, don't I?" He applies pressure on your clit with his thumb, and another jolt of electricity flutters through your spine.

Zayne doesn't waste much time to remove his trousers. Despite his towering height, he's able to smoothly strip himself without hitting his head on the roof of the car. What other skills does this man have?

Well, you didn't have the time to make guesses considering Zayne was demanding your attention on him, leaning in for more greedy kisses. You hear his soft mutters as he's pressing himself against you, edging himself against you with his wet cock.

"I love it when you wear lipstick. It makes me want to ruin it so much."

His tongue feels hot against yours. It's so intoxicatingly good. Was it because it was still raining? Was it because he's about to fuck the lights out of you in his car? Whatever it is--he just feels so fucking good on you.

"I'm gonna enter you now", he says, waiting for you to give the green light. You nod, taking his palm onto your cheek.

Zayne lines himself right at your pussy hole, and he pushes himself into you. His groans sound so pretty when he's getting fucked out like this.

He watches the way his cock slowly stretches you open, trying to fit all of him in. The warmth of your cunt is just sucking him in, so fucking perfect for the rainy weather. 

You're seeing stars. Zayne feels so big and thick in you and you have to remind yourself to fucking breathe. You feel him draw circles on your thighs to soothe you. It works for a second or two, until the feeling of Zayne pushing more of his length in, filling you up completely makes your head spin once more. You're fighting to keep your line of sight clear, but it's tough when your boyfriend is fucking balls deep in your pussy. 

“You're so warm and tight”, he groans, his olive eyes slowly letting go of the last strings of sanity he has left. “It feels so good.” 

Zayne can't get enough–even when you're sprawled beneath him, legs spread open, hair a shriveled mess, lipstick smudged at the corner, and eyes that leak so much lust–you look like a goddess in his eyes, pinned underneath him.

“Zayne”, you whine. He makes him grow thicker in you when he hears you like that for him. “Wait a moment, you're too big–” 

Zayne scrunches his eyebrows when he feels you squeeze him. Fuck, you're really driving him insane. 

He pulls out slightly, his breath hitched at the back of his throat when your creamy load leaks out and pools at the base of his dick. 

Zayne pushes himself in once more, the sounds of you whining like music to him. He thrusts into you over and over again, savouring and eating the moans that leave your lips. 

He pulls back, the greedy slowly clouding his vision when he realises this isn't enough.

Zayne effortlessly shifts you onto his lap, not minding that his cock naturally slipped out for now. His palm is on the back of your head and he’s pulling you in for another round of wet and desperate kisses. Every sigh you pull out from him makes your pussy clench the air uselessly.

Suddenly, the air doesn't feel as cold anymore.

Zayne looks at you with such overflowing desire that it makes him feel dizzy too.

Soft lips latch onto your skin, burning you with pleasure and tease. 

It feels hot and heavenly.

You sigh, fidgeting and tugging his ears playfully. 

“It's…gotten warmer”, you point out, feeling the warmth radiating off the both of you–the small beads of perspiration rolling down your neck to your chest.

“Even better”, Zayne replies, cupping your tits, wetting your nipple with rolls of his tongue, sucking your soft nubs. His eyes lock onto you to lap up your reactions. You're falling apart in the best ways possible. 

He can't get enough of the way your pussy is staining his trousers, rubbing, teasing his thick cock to just enter you again. 

You call out his name over and over, mixed with weak moans and your body trembling with every light tug he does on your nipple. 

When he finally gives you mercy and stops, you watch his smile play on his lips. 

You pout, sliding your thumb across his lips, and watching with shaky breaths when he takes your thumb past his lips, and equally wets it with his tongue.

You dive in, starved to claim his lips as yours once more, sharing the warmth that continues to climb within the confines of the car.

Zayne positions his cock once more, lining it up to your wet pussy hole, and pushes himself in again, drawing gasps and moans when he's filled you to the brim once more. He feels thicker this time.

“So good”, you sigh, your knees shaking from your pussy stretching once more. 

His hand sprawls over your ass, guiding it up and down as he thrusts you from below, still careful that you don't hit the roof of the car.

He shifts himself slightly forward, and you follow suit, letting him hit deeper parts in you more safely. You have your arms wrapped around him, realising it's completely pointless to try to ground yourself with Zayne fucking you stupid like that. 

More wet and lewd sounds start filling the car. You hear his voice right at your ear.

“I love it so much when your tight pussy makes such pretty sounds for me.” 

He pins your thighs down, forcing you to take every thrust he gives you. It gives him access to hit your sensitive spongy spot. It makes your toes curl and your eyes roll back. You bite your lip, the muscles in your thighs tensing. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! It feels so fucking good. 

Zayne knows he's hit the sweet spot when you tighten all over him, both in your arms and pussy.

“Let go all over me, y/n”, Zayne’s voice tickles your ears. “You're gonna feel so good.”

The repetition of Zayne perfectly hitting your spot makes you sob. The knot in your stomach snaps, and your thighs shake, your orgasm washing over you in waves, your vision going white. 

You're in fucking heaven.

“So good. I'm cumming so much, Zayne”, you sob. Zayne isn't letting your orgasm go just yet.

He leaves another mark on your shoulder, taking in a deep inhale of the perfume that's struggling to stay on your skin.

“I'm gonna make a whole mess in you, darling.” 

For a man as calm and collected as Zayne, the way he fucks you is nasty and disrespectful.

And you love every fucking bit of it.

He peppers kisses all over your neck and shoulders, turning them into bites when you feel his cock pulse, then warm and thick cum fills your whole pussy up.

“That's it. Take all of it. That's my good girl.”

While you catch your breath, you notice the fog on the car windows. You're not sure if the rain stopped or not. All you're sure of is that your mind is slowly getting broken by Zayne–every bit of it belonging to him, and that every time he fucks you from below, it makes you shiver from the sheer pleasure.

You feel Zayne suck your neck once more and the pleasure sends shivers down your body.

“Don't get distracted, darling”, his gentle voice luring you back to him.

He fits his cum-covered cock right into you again–nothing more than a stronger indicator that he's not done yet. It elicits another choked moan out of you. His grip is harder on you now. 

“Say my name. Louder.”

Damn. The temperature really went up. 

[fryday]

Can i be sappy here?  It’s really cute and endearing when they show us how Dan accommodates bossy Phil and how Phil spoils needy Dan. However, this year's wdapteo is less gay, but it's so much more domestic and intimate. Most of their texts feels like the glass on head heart eyes Howell pic that they shared with us during Dan's birthday livestream all over again. I know we all got hung up on the "do you want some comfies" as it is heart-archingly sweet along with all the checking up on Phil's text... but the whole part where Phil was asking Dan how he feels about the dullet at the hair salon was SO much more devastating. We always see how Dan takes care and spoils Phil, but we don’t usually get to see how Phil expresses his love and care as openly. However, this video just shows us exactly how Phil loves Dan. He is always making sure Dan’s voice is being heard and his needs are being met. And Dan who doesn’t always convey his feeling well always feel comfortable to share his feelings to Phil. He really is his comfort person who he can always rely on. 

can you be sappy here? what a question to ask! (always)

this is all really true, anon, and really beautiful. very good comparison made between the vibes of these exchanges and the glass on the head picture - so much love conveyed through what was supposed to be a silly thing.

it's such a beautiful thing, now that you've pointed it out, how dan's love is so clear in how he dotes on and gives in to phil's every want and need, but phil's love is in *getting* dan to express his own wants and needs, to reinforce the fact that his wants and needs *matter*. similarly when dan does express something and it goes unheard, phil draws others' attention to it - *your thoughts matter*.

that's something phil does so beautifully - listen to dan when he talks. it's especially clear in videos when dan is going on a genuine monologue about his thoughts on smth and he's not trying to be funny. the way phil *looks* at dan in those moments. dan has his undivided attention.

anyway that was a lot of I suppose rehashing what you already said anon but you're so right and I'm just really thoughtful about this now. thank you for bringing it up <3

[pitrsattabhaadmeinjaa]

wont you kiss me on the mouth (and love me like a sailor)

buddie, 2.1k

beta reader: @krissy-kat

“I’m in love with Eddie!” Buck nearly yells as soon as his sister opens the door after his frantic knocking and calls of her name, panting like he’d run a marathon, half-leaning on the doorframe, half falling inside. “Maddie, I’m in love with my best friend!”

“Buck–” Maddie’s eyes are wide and she’s carrying a half filled wine glass.

He started turning around to find a place to lay down and never get up again, just to stop in his tracks when he saw what had Maddie so worked up.

Eddie.

Or, Buck discovers he’s in love with Eddie, rants about it to Maddie, and doesn’t realise Eddie is right behind him.

“I’m in love with Eddie!” Buck nearly yells as soon as his sister opens the door after his frantic knocking and calls of her name, panting like he’d run a marathon, half-leaning on the doorframe, half falling inside. “Maddie, I’m in love with my best friend!”

“Buck–” Maddie’s eyes are wide and she’s carrying a half-filled wine glass.

He sidesteps her to enter the house, rubbing his face like if he did it hard enough, he could stop feeling these emotions. He walks in a few steps and turns to her with his back to the rest of the house and says, “Maddie, oh god, I’m so fucked, Maddie– I was just dropping off Chris at his friend’s house for a sleepover and the kid’s mom met me outside to greet us,” Buck starts gesturing with his arms, “And after Chris went inside she started asking about me, right, like, asking how I am and if I knew how this sweater brings out the color of my eyes, and like of course I know, that why I chose it, but that's besides the point. The point is that it made me uncomfortable! Like, since when has someone hitting on me made me uncomfortable?

“And then when I thought about it a little, Maddie, you know what I realized? I didn’t like it because she’s not the one I wanted to notice my sweater, I didn’t like it because I wore it to meet Eddie later today,” he burst out, “to go get pizza at this new place that opened up that we wanted to try and see if Chris would like it, and I wanted him to like my sweater and my eyes!”

“Buck, wait–”

“No, no, this cannot wait. I’ve been thinking about that the whole drive here, that I want Eddie to think I look good and that I think he looks extremely good in the jeans that came half-off with this sweater that I let him borrow because I knew they would look so good on him– No, stop distracting me, I need to tell you what happened next.”, he said, holding up both hands. Buck had been stewing in that fact deeply the whole hour and a half that he had been driving and sitting in traffic, thinking back to every interaction he’d had with his best friend. Had he always liked the way Eddie’s brown eyes shone whenever he smiled at Buck, or how his fingers looked perfect for sucking on, or how his voice was all rough and raspy and hot in the mornings? No wonder Tommy left him after a few months.

“Apparently, that lady wasn’t his mom, but just her twin sister who’s visiting, which, does make more sense because I know his actual mother loves her husband too much to do that, and when Sandra came out, she apologized to me, to which I replied ‘no, it's all good’, but then, she scolded her sister, which at first I was confused a little by,” Buck splayed his hands open, showing his apparent confusion, “but then she told her sister that I’m Christopher’s other dad, Eddie’s husband. And I wanted to correct her, but I didn’t, because you know why?”

He fisted his hands and joined them, and leaned down toward her, speaking through his teeth, “Because I liked it! I liked her referring to me as Eddie’s husband, as Christopher’s dad, because,” he tilted his head pointedly, “as I’ve deduced on the ride here, I want to be Eddie’s husband and Christopher’s dad!”

Maddie’s face had a look of urgency, and she was looking behind Buck, but he disregarded it as soon as she said, “Buck, Eddie is–”

“Yes, I know Eddie’s straight, and he could never love me like that,” he pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes, and a broken, wet laugh emerged from him, “but I just needed to tell you as soon as possible because you gave me some pretty solid advice on how to deal with Eddie-related stuff last time, and oh my god, that wasn’t me trying to get Tommy’s attention was it? I was trying to get Eddie’s back.” His hands were no longer against his eyes, and his face was lit with a mix of realization and dismay. His head was also brimming with the same, realizing that he’s been in love with Eddie for far longer than he thought, and devastated with the fact that he can’t do anything about it. Eddie was straight, and their relationship will never be the same after this, because there is no way that Buck can keep lying to his Ed–his friend for long, no way that he can bear Eddie not knowing everything about him.

He started turning around to find a place to lay down and never get up again, just to stop in his tracks when he saw what had Maddie so worked up.

Eddie.

Eddie, sitting there on Maddie and Chimney’s couch. Eddie, with his mouth open and a beer halfway to his mouth. Eddie, with his eyes wide and that borderline pornographic mustache he’d grown.

Eddie, who heard all of that. Eddie, who is surely about to break Buck’s heart by letting him down gently and he cannot bear the rejection right now.

So he did the only rational thing one can do in a situation such as this. Taking a page out of all his ex’s books, he ran.

…

Eddie didn’t think his ears were working right, because there is no way that just happened, right? His best friend didn’t just basically confess his love to him and run away, right? Right?

Except that’s exactly what happened, because even if he was delusional and hallucinating that, the expression on Maddie and Chim’s face is shocked enough that he can be sure they all saw that.

So now that he’s sure that was real, he can safely go through his emotions, starting with: What. WHAT. Buck loves me? Buck loves me back? What?! Fuck. Buck loves me. Fucking fuck yes. Buck loves me. Wait. Fuck. Buck loves me. Buck ran away. Shit. Buck doesn’t know I love him. Shit. SHIT.

Maddie’s looking at him, apparently over her shock now, sporting an expectant look on her face. “Well? What are you waiting for?”

The sound of an engine starting outside stirred him from his own dazed surprise, and he did the only rational thing one can do in a situation such as this. Taking a page out of Buck’s book, he ran.

After Buck, that is.

Eddie kept his beer on the table and leaped to his feet, and ran out, foregoing shoes, and saw Buck��s Jeep pulling out the driveway, on the street. Shit. “Stop, Buck, wait! Buck, stop, would you just–for god’s sake Buck, stop!” He didn’t.

Due to the lack of fully-there-ness because the love of his life had just said he loved Eddie back, no one can blame him for what he did next. He ran in front of the car. Because more than he was reckless at the moment, he had full trust in Buck not to run him over.

Which turned out to be true because as soon as Buck saw him, he braked hard and then just–froze. His baby blue eyes wide open and hands gripping the wheel, he just sat there staring at Eddie who was in front of the car with his hands out.

Eddie pointed at Buck. “Out. Now. No running.”

Buck's face turned stony and he reinforced his grip on the wheel. “No.”

“No? What do you mean no? Get out of the car, Buck!”

“Or what?” Buck’s face was now doing that thing where he thought he could stay strong enough to resist the Diaz Eyes, patented by one Christopher Diaz. He was so annoyed, because he never could. And he’d done enough therapy to know that Eddie wouldn’t let this ruin their friendship but Buck was too high on his emotions that he couldn’t take even a gentle let down by his best friend, so he resorted to acting petulant.

Eddie, who was also a Diaz and aware of the Eyes, said nothing and just stared at Buck pointedly, with one finger still pointing to the ground outside the Jeep.

Buck, as expected, didn’t hold out long. His face turned resigned, and he heaved a big sigh, folding in on himself in the driver’s seat. He slowly started opening the door, and Eddie, now satisfied Buck would actually come out, went over to him.

He got out of the car, eyes downcast and opened his mouth to defend himself. “Eddie, please. Just reject me later, I can’t bear it now–”, only to be interrupted by Eddie’s lips.

Wait. By Eddie’s lips? What?

Eddie was kissing him. Eddie was kissing him. Eddie was kissing him. And Buck was just standing there like an idiot.

Well, no one said he couldn't learn and go with the flow. He brought his hands up, one to Eddie’s, who was cupping Buck’s face, and one to Eds’ hip, holding him close. The kiss was…amazing. It was everything they said it would be. Fireworks, a burst of emotion, senses dulled to everything except the points their bodies were touching.

It was magnificent. And short-lived. Eddie pulled away first, Buck subconsciously leaning forward to chase his lips, away from where he was pinned against the Jeep. He opened his eyes, and the world, and all of its tortuous realities, came flooding back.

“What.”, his voice cracked. Tears were starting to build up in his eyes, and Evan Buckley had never been more confused in his life.

Eddie was still staring at his lips, and said dazedly, “God, I should’ve been kissing you a long time ago if that’s what it feels like.”

“What.” Buck’s world was rocked. What did Eddie just say?

Eddie took pity on him, and looked up at his eyes. And then he said the most ridiculous thing ever. “I love you too, Buck.”

“What. I– I don’t understand.”

Eddie softened then, his smile turning small and quiet, and his eyes took a devastatingly watery quality, “I want you to be my husband too, and Christopher’s other dad. Legally, that is, because you’ve been raising him alongside me for years now a.”

Oh. Buck’s world rocked further. This all wasn't a dream, or a confusing second reality. Eddie loved him. Eddie wanted to be his husband too.

Buck’s expression started clearing up, a hopeful one dawning on his face. He was the happiest man in the whole world, and he knew Eddie wouldn’t lie to him, but, “Really?”

His future-husband’s face turned mock reserved at that, a glint of mirth in his eyes giving him away. “Well, no, I was just kidding–”

Buck interrupted him with his lips, “Nope, no take-backs, you said it now, sorry.”, with a cheeky smile, and Eddie gave up all pretense, laughing fondly at the man he loved. They leaned in again, and Eddie gently poured all the love he had into this kiss, moving a hand up to Buck’s hair and pulling him in even closer by his waist with another. They moved slow, because it felt like they had all the time in the world now, and nothing could get in between them, nothing– click.

They broke apart, both grinning at each other dopily first, to see Maddie and Chimney out on the front porch, twin grins pulling at their faces and taking a photo of them.

Chim gave them two thumbs and Maddie held the phone up to them and yelled, “I’M SENDING THIS TO THE GROUPCHAT.”

Chim pointed aggressively at them and said, “BUCK I’M GONNA BE YOUR BEST MAN, I’M SO HAPPY FOR YOU BUT DON’T YOU DARE ASK ANYONE ELSE!”

Maddie looked up from her texting at that, “Sorry, babe, but I’m gonna be his best woman.” Buck chimed in from his place in Eddie’s arms, “Yeah, Chim, sorry, but she’s right.”

“Aw, well,” he sighed, “You’re the only person I’d give up that spot to.”, and lovingly pecked his wife’s cheek.

Eddie looked back then, “DON’T WORRY, BUD. YOU CAN BE MINE!” Chim whooped at that, and Maddie went back to the barrage of texts that must surely be coming in from their family, shaking her head fondly.

Buck kissed him again, chastely this time, for his sister’s sake. “You don’t think we’re moving a little fast?”

“This has been seven years in the making, baby. You’re my family, and I’m not waiting on societal norms to make it legal.” Eddie punctuated that with a kiss to Buck’s birthmark, and what could Buck do other than melt?

His eyes shone, and he let his grin lose once again. “Well, thank god for Sandra.”

Eddie laughed into his love’s neck, and hugged him close.

“I can’t wait to spend forever with you.”

[loving-family-poll]

Ultimate Incest Tournament - Round 3

Propaganda under the cut

Anna/Elsa:

THE juggernaut Frozen ship, and I will never forget our glory days!! Anna's act of true love canonically saving Elsa, and then them having a bunch of children from Elsa's sneezes in the Frozen short… Iconic. They will ALWAYS be the most important thing in each other's lives (remember the time Kristoff was trying to propose to Anna, and she was like "Hmm did you see how Elsa was acting weird? I need to go investigate")

Staple for the incest and yuri fandom of the 2010s. Ridiculously romantic storyline of having the kind of true love that's stuff of legends, capable of trumping fear and breaking curses. They are willing to sacrifice anything for each other and we even have a dumbfounded person looking at how beautiful the other is atop of the stairs. Olaf is their baby I guess.

In their attempt to pander to homophobic fans and make a movie about sisterly love instead of lesbians, Disney accidentally made the most beautiful incestuous love story of all time. I just KNOW they were fantasizing about each other while Elsa was locked in her room for all those years. Yes, it's supposed to be a family-friendly princess movie. True sickos know that that's the point.

Elsa and Anna. Two sisters who are separated for thirteen years and yet those thirteen years only entangle them deeper – Anna haunting Elsa because Elsa will not let herself forget the night of the accident, holding Anna close as a child and sobbing… Elsa’s whole life after that moment defined by that moment, defined by protecting Anna and keeping her distance from Anna while yearning to be near to her as the years go by… Elsa sacrificing her everything in the desperate hope that Anna will be safe… If “love is putting someone else’s needs before yours,” then Elsa does that over and over for thirteen years even as she suffers from wanting all the time to be with her sister… – Elsa haunting Anna because Anna is separated from her sister but does not know why, separated from her sister but longing for her sister – and to both of them, the thought of the other becomes something to worship – until Anna gives her life to throw herself before Elsa and stop the falling sword – until Elsa can finally, finally touch Anna again but now Anna is frozen to solid ice, so the only thing Elsa can touch is the reminder that she killed the person she loves most in this world. And then Anna thaws and they cling to each other, united by love – by a desperate, all-consuming, true love that thaws Arendelle around them – and they still carry the thousand wounds from their childhood but they have each other, they love each other, they are in each other’s arms.

I cannot stress enough how intense the film’s focus on touch makes things for incest shippers. Not only are the sister’s separated, but Elsa cannot touch Anna skin to skin, must always wear the gloves, must always keep a barrier between herself and the one she most longs to hold, to touch. Imagine the exhilaration of that first embrace on the fjord. Being able to touch without fear for the first time in years. Imagine the relief.

I also want to cite this, from an anonymous submission to a headcanon blog:

"However, since protecting Anna also required her to stay away from Anna at all times, Anna became sacred, in a sense: something fragile and special to be watched over but never touched or spoken to. She would come to love Anna in much the same way people come to love religious icons: Anna had always been there and had never been there. She loved Elsa and did not know Elsa. She was warm and kind and dedicated and was under no circumstances to be tainted with Elsa’s presence unless she kept the tightest possible control over herself."

That fear of destroying Anna, of corrupting Anna by touching her, of letting loose the repressed part of herself - all of it comes together so exquisitely for an incest ship.

And after they rediscover each other, in Frozen 2? Their bond remains just as intense. The last word on Elsa’s lips before freezing is Anna’s name. Anna, when she realizes Elsa’s “death,” sings a heartbreaking song that includes the lyrics:

“I can't find my direction, I'm all alone The only star that guided me was you How to rise from the floor When it's not you I'm rising for?”

Their pain is born of their love, and their love for each other drives them both forward."

Gerard/Mikey:

brothers from new jersey. grew up spending a lot of their time together in the basement. we've all heard of flowers in the attic time for flowers in the basement. disgustingly in each other's space constantly. weird offputting freaks you met at a house party or basement show once. they share dawn of the dead in their list of favorite movies which i think is just kind of cute.

went to a smashing pumpkins concert together and decided being in a band is what they wanted out of life.

became the vocalist and the bassist for one of the most influential emo bands of the 2000s. as with any band that tours, especially in early days when you're not that popular, just a lot of room sharing and being noticeably in each other's space. people also consistently joking that they can read each other's minds.

gerard wrote "brother" about mikey and it's suspiciously close to another song he wrote ("summertime") which is straight up one of the most heartwrenching love songs mcr has ever come up with which is really really saying something. not to downplay brother either, because its pretty crazy. actually im just submitting summertime and brother as propaganda.

gerard has, on stage: licked mikey's nipple, pantomimed giving him a handjob, and generally groped him.

my personal favorite is the time gerard had to physically pick up and move mikey to keep him from getting set on fire from stage pyrotechnics.

they also look nothing like each other until they really really do which isn't exactly propaganda so much as porn material. you put glasses on gerard or take glasses off mikey and get them looking the same way and they look literally like the same person

in an interview gerard described teenage mikey as ‘wearing tight, black clothes’, ‘looking like a hooker’, and ‘looking like a piece of chicken’

gerard has gotten up close and personal with mikey during performances of destroya (a song in which 90% of the lyrical content is him moaning) to the point where during a performance one of their bandmates yelled ‘get away from your brother’ at him

gerard also ran a hand through mikey’s sweaty, sweaty hair and along his jaw, then licked it

gerard has written frequently about incest, and when asked which of his characters he related to the most said one who was in love with her brother

gerard is into lots of strange stuff (vomit, piss, inflation, potentially guro) it really would not be a stretch for him to be into incest

This Gif (https://www.tumblr.com/gerardcest/764335264300744704/why-does-he-touch-his-brother-like-that?source=share)

[anthurak]

One uncomfortable truth a lot of CFVY novel readers don't like to confront is the fact that Vacuo is canonically an authoritarian dictatorship.

Okay, so I'll be honest. That feels like a bit of a stretch. I mean just from simple narrative logistics from what we see in the V9 Epilogue and the Beyond shorts, if Vacuo was just straight up Atlas 2.0, would it really make sense that the likes of Qrow, Oscar and Robyn Hill would apparently be working pretty well with Theodore?

That being said, I do agree with you that there ARE a lot of red flags surrounding Theodore and Vacuo as a whole.

I think what's actually being set up is something along the lines of 'Vacuo is not Atlas 2.0... YET', and 'Theodore is not Ironwood 2.0... YET'.

I think the point of Theodore as a character is that on the surface, he seems like the Headmaster who has learned from the mistakes of all the others. The one who looks at Ironwood and says 'I am NOT going to be like that!'

Yet, we have already seen a LOT of red flags that Theodore could easily become an Ironwood 2.0, and is likely already on that path. Likewise, Vacuo as a whole makes a big deal about how they are NOTHING like Atlas, even as there are red flags that they could easily become an Atlas 2.0

And a big part of Volume 10 will be our heroines working to stop that from happening.

I think the central 'big' conflict of Volume 10 is that the conflicts and problems facing Vacuo are essentially reflections and repeats of problems we've seen in previous volumes: Theodore is on his way to becoming an Ironwood 2.0. Jax has all the signs of being an Adam 2.0. And Salem's forces are looking to take advantage of these conflicts, just as they have so many times before.

Except this time, our heroines KNOW this game. At this point, Team RWBY and their friends have seen this play out before. And THIS time, they are going to STOP it.

I think Volume 10 is where we see our heroines put what they've learned from Beacon, Haven and Atlas into practice. And this time actually STOP both Salem's machinations and the conflicts that she is always trying to exploit.

Which means stopping Theodore from becoming an Ironwood 2.0, and stopping Jax from ending up like an Adam 2.0 and diffusing the conflict with the Crown, and ultimately uniting EVERYONE against their true enemy.

SALEM.

Which of course leads into Volume 11 and what I imagine is the big 'Return to Vale and Retaking Beacon' volume.

[downtroddendeity]

@sapphirestar98

Hoo boy. Okay.

This is going behind a cut both because this post is already so long and because I generally try not to talk too much about gacha game fandoms on Tumblr because I feel weird about providing free marketing for things with gambling mechanics that can easily destroy people's lives.

Let me see if I can explain this.

So! Despite the aforementioned attempts to mostly keep the amount I talk about it on Tumblr low, I have been into Arknights for several years now. Like, into it enough that I keep breaking down and ranting about it anyway.

The easiest way to describe Arknights is, "Grimdark science fantasy tower defense about catgirls with guns." But this is a little like describing Metal Gear Solid as "a series of stealth games where you play as a genetically-engineered supersoldier": it's a largely accurate description and necessary starting point, but it doesn't remotely prepare you for what you're about to get into, and especially how much of that experience will consist of hour-long cutscenes discussing the human cost of the socioeconomic turmoil following the collapse of the Soviet Union.

Arknights is an otherworld fantasy story and the vast majority of its characters are animal-people, but most of the countries are extremely clear and up-front parallels to real ones- the Ursus Empire is Furry Russia, Siracusa is Furry Italy, Victoria is Furry England, etc. That makes it a setting that's knit together by huge amounts of real-life references, even though the original setting lore is pretty expansive all by itself, which is something they're only able to pull off because there are clearly people on the creative team in a variety of positions who do incredible amounts of research about a wide variety of topics purely out of love of the subject. We're talking deep cuts. We're talking "there is a Halloween costume skin that paraphrases the closing passage of Cormac McCarthy's Blood Meridian, which turned out to be a stealth spoiler for main story plot points several years later." We're talking "a whole storyline centered around 12th-century poetry." We're talking "NPC named for the author of a novel about medical ethics." We're talking heartrending multilayered Russian puns. We're talking the translators once had to swap out the names of several boss levels a few weeks after they released them because they hadn't caught that they were all titles of songs from an Andrew Lloyd Webber musical.

So, this is already a shockingly dense text, and it's intensely and openly political. And on top of all that, their favorite way to foreshadow things is through Dark-Souls-style single-line ambiguous but portentous hints. For someone like me who loves deep reading and overanalyzing for fun, this is catnip. However, for us losers who only speak English, there's a major extra complication: Arknights is made by people in China, in Chinese, and localizing it has got to be one of the most nightmarish translation tasks ever. The English server is 6 months behind the Chinese server, so there's always quite a bit of in-game material that's been released but Anglophones only have sketchy fragmentary translations of, and there are various tie-in materials that we don't know if they'll ever translate at all, notably an in-universe setting guidebook.

So, if I want to get my red string and thumbtacks conspiracy corkboard on properly, I need something like a wiki. I want to be able to check out references I might have missed and hunt for lore breadcrumbs more easily. Pretty basic wiki stuff, right? There's just one tiny little problem.

It's a mobile gacha game about anime catgirls.

And it turns out people who become admins at websites for posting data-mined combat statistics for mobile gacha games about anime catgirls are not always very smart or good at reading.

So the trivia and lore articles are frequently just... wrong. Sometimes it's tiny quibbles or missing nuance that disproportionately annoy me, but other times it's flagrant. Like, there's a character song that prominently references an extremely famous piece of classical music, the serenade from Franz Schubert's "Swan Song." Both the wiki and the not-actually-a-wiki-but-says-it-is-anyway correctly say that the character song is referencing a piece by Schubert... and then link to a completely different Schubert piece that is not referenced in the character song, because both of them are titled "Ständchen" because it. Means "serenade." And somebody made a Twitter thread about classical music references that linked the wrong video, and Gamepress plagiarized it without checking, and the wiki added it to various pages also without checking. And you can tell this immediately if you listen to the songs, but apparently no one has done that in almost 3 years even though @onwardmotley tried to fix it.

Now imagine that across a whole wiki trying to document a game with millions of words of text, which is the only public-facing source about some Chinese-language official material in English.

*sighs and resets "days since last tirade about an extremely obscure subject in a group chat because someone was wrong on the internet about a video game" counter to zero*

[yael-art-den]

Galahad (Right) and Rey (Left). More info about their whole deal after the cut

These guys are some of my oldest OC couples at around 8 years old (that I still use), and Galahad has changed quite a bit but Rey was already perfect. Backstory:

They both come from a setting in which I never bothered really giving names as I was more focused on the characters. so we'll call the place Galahad is from "The Empire" and Rey's "The Kingdom". Names are not relevant rn.

We have Galahad, an orphan Ifrit that REALLY gets into magic because he sucks at anything physical and it was the only way for him to pursue higher education. Ends up in a magical-military career as a way to keep climbing the social ladder and because they are the only people who will fund his research into stable, 24/7 open portal magic.

He REALLY gets into politics because those two things are joined at the hip and he was always a nosy bitch that never stays still when there is an opportunity to improve his current position. He doesn't do it out of malice but because he fears that at ANY time the rug will be pulled under him and he'll be back at square one poor as a rat and he needs to feel in control of his life. He starts having secret hookups with people WAY above his station.

Context notes: The Empire™ it's very very conservative. They can still charge you with indecency if you're a sodomite, ESPECIALLY if you're a public figure. That of course doesn't stop gay sex from happening anyway but someone has to be the escapegoat when a scandal happens

Exactly the thing above happens. One of the dudes in the council gets called out for exactly that and he throws Galahad under the bus. One accusation gets piled one after the other and his lovers jump ship before the finger can be pointed at them too. His public image is in shambles but he actually gets charged with Treason (because airing publicly who he hooked up with would be BAD and he probably got those corrupting ideas from the barbaric Kingdom anyway)

Galahad bites the bullet and goes into exile before anyone can try to murder him before the trial, thus "confirming" the fact that he is, in fact, a traitor. He was always ready for this though, so he takes all of the portal research with him.

Now he's bitter, heartbroken, and completely alone in enemy territory. He's not the kind of person that just lets life happens to him, so he goes right back at work again. Unfortunately he discovers that working on Seals and Sigils at -20°C in the middle of the artic tundra is Not Easy and needs to get a real job there.

Now, for Rey and The Kingdom©. Whereas Galahad is a normal dude with a congenital condition (albinism), Rey is the result of literal dragon eugenics. He doesn't have a name (Rey is short for Rey de la Ventisca, his title) and, in their culture, there is no word or space for princes. For the royal lineage, you either are the King or you aren't; and if you Aren't, you better challenge the current one to a fight to the death. Cold spares no one, you have to be THE strongest, flawless, perfect execution of the divine vessel you were born to incarnate.

Rey is just his title, as meaning "rulling above all else" but it's actually a theocracy. His religion believes the holy power of dragons and Frost Dragons are the only kind that will live most of their life in "humanoid", lesser shapes, as their true form is reserved to very particular events (I.E: coronations) or religious military conquests.

Rey, despite his power and attitude, is not really a person, and never tried to be. He is THE King, that's all he needs to be. Until Galahad comes around, there was no difference in his mind between himself, the last or the next King.

The Kingdom is not more "open" politically, it's just different in how it handles them altogether. It's a GIVEN that the King Will eventually have an heir who will murder him and take the throne, so who cares if he's sucking dick in the meantime. Rey makes or breaks every single societal rule he wants by virtue of Being, and that becomes what now Is. It's almost open knowledge that the King favors men, so now it's just What Kings Do.

He has the biggest hoard in the whole setting, and despite that, he doesn't really... owns anything. It's the King's. He protects the Kingdom, its treasure, and his title, and does so HAPPILY but it's not until he starts viewing himself as an individual that he starts WANTING things. When Galahad eventually tells him that he wants to belong to him, he puts emphasis on that last part. He wouldn't want to be with the last king, or the next one, he wants Him. Galahad doesn't think he's an empty vessel because everything that he loves lives there.

Unfortunately, having wants and needs comes with the fact that you WILL have to confront the fact that you really don't want to have heirs and want to marry your consort and your whole world vision will come crumbling down on you because if you're not able to truly be King then you must be Something Else and that just Does Not Compute

Whoops someone murdered the twink. Holy war

[zoswriting]

❝shoto’s world.❞ ✧ ೃ༄

⤷ synopsis : cute (i hope) little shoto head canons

⤷ a/n : i think most of these probably are just the stereotypical shoto hcs, but with my own twist. i think. i hope. perchance?

⤷ warnings : fluff, absolutely not proofread whatsoever, i’m writing this at the ass-crack of dawn and my brain isn’t working (but it will always work enough for shoto), mentions of scars (second paragraph), g/n reader, age not specified—feel free to choose

➺ i think we all know how touch deprived this baby is. he needs physical touch, and he’s been needing it so desperately for years. he’d practically jump at any opportunity to touch you, or just be touched by you. although yes, he’s typically seen to be cold and distant to people, he is not like that with you. behind closed doors, this man is the clingiest thing ever. more often than not, you find yourself lying down on your bed with his head laying on your stomach, his arms tucked under your torso as he desperately tries to get closer to you.

➺ along those same lines, he’s a sucker for having his scars touched. not just the one on his eye, but every scar that can be seen. again, in bed, at night, whilst you try to fall asleep, you’ll find yourself tracing the familiar scarred tissue on his arms—which originated from countless villains and fights—with such precision, such tenderness, like you’re worried you’ll break him if you press too hard. and he loves it. it lulls him to sleep every time.

➺ his nicknames for you include the usual ‘love’, ‘sweetheart’, ‘darling’, anything cute, really. but, slap a ‘my’ in front of it? you’re melting, and he loves when you do. whenever he implements the nickname into your regular, day-to-day conversations, it’s like a reminder that you’re really his, and he’d like to keep it that way.

➺ you tease each other a lot for very silly stuff. for example, if he ever complains about something small, you’ll go ‘awh, poor thing”, and he’ll just glare at you and tease you back and say ‘yea? well, the other day, were you not just saying this?’ it’ll go on for a while. my guy will have receipts on stand-by; he’s very serious when it comes to being a tease.

➺ dear god, his death glare. literally pierces into your soul. for someone who’s usually so soft around you and the people he truly loves, you really do wonder how the hell he’s even capable of such an expression. but, then again, he is one of the strongest people you’ve ever met, so i guess it checks out. either way, one glare can get you to do his bidding in milliseconds. even just an eyebrow raise gets you rethinking whatever you said no to. he knows how to get you.

➺ if you have siblings, he won’t fully understand the whole ‘siblings are mean to each other as an act of love’ kind of thing. he may see you and your siblings insulting each other to no end, saying things that you’d probably get cancelled for if you said them in public, but he genuinely will not know it’s playful and in good heart (well, i’d hope… right?) and will defend you no matter what. he’ll go on a full tangent, too. your sibling insults your face? “don’t say that. i think you’ll find that their face is perfect, actually.” and will literally start analysing every single feature, pointing out why he thinks it’s so pretty. you have to tell him “sho, siblings do this all the time”, but the boy just doesn’t understand.

➺ i know a lot of people say he’s dense—which he is, don’t get me wrong—but i believe that with you, he’s starting to learn a little more about society. he’ll even quote random tiktok trends; you once found him on the phone to his brother saying “it’s giving material girl”, and you burst out laughing. he couldn’t figure out for the life of him what was wrong with what he said.

➺ the biggest gentleman there is. he’s got everything down to a t—the sidewalk rule, holding your hand, redirecting you if you’re about to bump into something, princess treatment, opens doors for you and gestures you inside first before he enters, even placing his hand on a corner when you bend down to pick something up. this man does not play about his love.

➺ will spoil you to no end. that’s it. no further explanation needed. even if you say time and time again you don’t actually need an item, you’re just looking at it for the sake of looking, he will buy. you’ll find it in your possession by the end of the day.

➺ similarly, he would definitely fund all of your interests with no hesitation. you like books? bam. you now have a library. you like to write? bam. he’s sorted out publishers. you like to draw? suddenly you have every art supply in the world. even the expensive stuff, he’ll go out of his way to make sure you have everything you want for your hobbies. you collect figurines but can’t afford to keep up with them because, jesus christ, they are expensive? no worries, he’s already bought all the ones you want without you even having a moment to think.

[therookerydatv]

This is a non-Veilguard post but it is a Solas post and a Varric post so buckle in.

Background: I joined a Veilguard Discord server because I'm insane, and we were discussing Cole and the whole choice to make him a Spirit or more Human, and it almost got into an argument but thankfully it figured quickly, but I was still thinking about it because something about it all rubbed me the wrong way. A lot of people lamented their choice in making Cole more Human or cheered that making Cole more Spirit was the correct choice because of Solas' own regrets and pains that came about from him gaining a mortal body.

Subjectively I have always chosen to make him more human, but I guess me choosing as a player is different from within the context of Inquisition. In DA:I every choice you make has consequences, sometimes trying to backpedal out of a choice once you're far enough in will result in you not getting your way because that's what it all is, Choices and Consequences. As much as the result of Cole's change is on you the player, it's really a Consequence of your favoring Varric or Solas' method.

Solas' entire view of Cole's predicament is colored by his own negative experience of having a body and living in the physical world, waking up to a physical world where the Veil was created just amplifies that regret in pain, every instance of him trying to help with his Wisdom becomes something worse to him personally (All that Wisdom and he can't help himself) but with Cole he actually can help! He can fix this, with not only Wisdom but experience! He's become a person, he doesn't like being a person(and then he does because of the Inquisitor, I feel this is true romance or friendship), so Solas knows that Cole can 'return'(made) more Spirit and the confliction will end.

Varrics positions, his view, I feel is colored by the people he couldn't help, the ones he couldn't help get their revenge or solve their problem in time in a way where no one could get hurt (Cole literally reminds him of Anders just in reverse) And this time, Varric knows better, he knows how to fix this, he knows how to not blow up the Chantry, he can fix it this time. (This time the love will be enough!!)

Objectively, both are answers, I don't think either of them are right, because it's one influence over the other, but a choice has to be made otherwise he'd become a demon.

Solas and Varric are having their idealogical battle(custody battle) over which direction Cole needs to go in to avoid binding or demonhood(which college to send him to). The added layer VG adds to this and every banter Solas and Varric have is also fascinating, because outwardly it's an Elf and a funny Dwarf fighting over the tall awkward Human child, but after VG??? After those regrets??? Girl...

But I feel that reducing that scene to Solavellan at times is... disingenuous, when really, it's a Solvarric scene of we're being objective.

This is THE custody battle of all time. (My weed kicked in bear with me)

Solas' version of his world doesn't exist anymore, the world with no Veil and spirits essentially pillaging the bodies of the Titans to gain bodies doesn't exist anymore, the first victims of what the Elvhen did calls him Chuckles, a demonym in true friendly jest to him, it's the first thing Varric calls him when he reaches out to talk to him at the beginning of Veilguard, up until that point he calls him Solas, the Dread Wolf, Fen'Harel.

Varric is a result of years of time happening to the version of the World Solas brought about. Its...it's like God is talking to a creation of his that has every right to hate him, to want to desire to go back before all the bad shit, and instead Varric says, okay, get the anger out, how do you feel now? Empty? That's okay too, take your time.

Solas is a weary traveler ready to end it all and Varric is the equally weary traveler who says, tell me about it, and then talks your ear off so much you start believing in the world again.

Basically, Varric's method is to embrace the history and the scars, embrace the hurt and once it's done, get something to eat. Varric forgives but doesn't forget, his plan has Cole let go of his anger in the end, but Cole will remember the hurt he felt, and inflicted and so will the people he inflicted them on.

[idkwhatimdoingbutslay]

I don’t think that it’s about whether or not Vi understood that Jinx was going to kill herself, but more so about Vi’s betrayal. Again.

If we pay attention to all the self-flagellation she spews when Caitlyn finds her, it’s about Vi choosing wrong every time. Vi only let herself free Jinx because she thought Jinx would help with everything that was going on. If anything, that’s one of Vi’s faults. She does talk about Caitlyn not trusting Jinx but Vi only does because Jinx “changed”. Their sister bond will always be there, but now there are caveats — their lives starts to turn conditional after everything they’ve gone through.

Would it be too controversial if I said that I don’t think it would matter enough if Vi knew Jinx was going to kill herself or not? She directly asks what she’s going to do and Jinx says something cryptic. At that point, I think Vi was over the theatrics, over trying to save Jinx. You can be angry at her for that, that’s completely fine, but at the end of the day, Vi has felt betrayed by Jinx so much in recent times despite trying so hard that she starts to make it her own fault. It was her who chooses to be betrayed, her who chooses wrong every time. She’s done with all of it now. Powder doesn’t exist anymore and Jinx (at that point) isn’t the person Vi wants her to be but that Vi can sees she can be.

What I’m thinking is that Vi’s anger with Jinx for never doing what she wants/expects of her despite showing that she’s changed (both of them have drastically different ideas of change for themselves and others) may have outweighed the care Vi had for Jinx that was growing tired. The whole plan at the commune convinced Vi and then she was slapped in the face with all of that (or more so punched in the gut with all of it).

It all kind of reminds me of a scene in one of Netflix’s many cancelled shows (Everything Now) that one of the characters (the guy speaking) imagines.

Jinx and Vi are both is sympathetically self destructive but in destroying themselves, they destroy the people who care about them as well. This isn’t a blame game or a “she should have known,” it’s more of a question of autonomy, how much one can fight another’s and also how much one can take in general.

Also, side note, saving Jinx was Ekko’s moment. Episode seven built up to the whole thing and it still took him way too many times for it to work.

[feral4fiktion]

I just have so many thoughts about this date, I need to expel them.

1. He CAN'T "Just try it". You even say in a later option he can't eat. Also, he's smelled coffee before. We know this bc he always says LUCANIS smells like coffee. Which leads to point 2.

2. The sheer disappointment in his voice that Lucanis got him something he's been smelling on a daily basis for weeks already KILLS me every time, but in a funny way. He's not MAD, just disappointed bc he probably thought he was getting out to try something new, just to get more of the same, but hey...he's out so it's not worth a fight. Leading to point 3

3. This shows so much growth for Spite that he's not trying to be Spiteful that Lucanis didn't get him something/do something he wanted. If this had happened right after the Ossuary Spite would be spilling the cup /screaming in his ear that this isn't what he wants. I could go on and on about how sweet his "character growth is" especially how it's tied directly to his human counterpart.

4. This is the first time outside of the Lighthouse Lucanis isn't wearing armor. He's grown a trust in the Crows of his city to protect their First Talon, whether bc of being First Talon or bc he has learned to trust others bc of Rook or the Veilguard.

5. As sweet as the whole conversation is, I'm sorry, but the way he hovers over Rook at the end creeps me out every time, and I hate that's the last real moment I get of him in game besides his comments before the final battle. Like he's been great so far, I expected like a hand hold or at most a knuckle-kiss. Instead he got up to hover...just felt awkward to me. Which leads to 6.

6. IM SO HAPPY HE DOESNT GO OVERVOARD ON PDA. I know it's controversial, but even without armor on Lucanis Dellamorte is a guarded person who's barely come to grips with being in a relationship after dreaming of one for years. Throw in the demisexuality, and like I mentioned before, a quick hand-kiss feels like the most intimate thing he COULD EVER DO in public. And that's beautiful to me. Cuz that felt like they really thought out his character (which i already knew they did).

Just some thoughts I've needed to put somewhere. Might flesh out or edit later.

[hivemuthur]

What was that? - Ch. 9.

viktorxfemale!OFC explicit!

friends to lovers, co-workers, sexual tension up to the wazoo, pinning and banter that got me frustrated when I was writing it, attempt at humour, some angst and a slow burn with a happy ending and a classic Viktor for once

Ch.1. | Ch.2. | Ch.3. | Ch.4. | Ch.5. | Ch.6. | Ch.7. | Ch.8. | Ch.10. | Ch.11. | Ch.12. | Ch.13. | Ch.14. | Ch.15.

word count: 4,6K

tag: #what was that

author’s note: My dear people, who actually read this, I salute to your patience. Without much spoilers, @rennethen, who is my lovely beta reader and at this point a lovely friend as well, has co-written a crucial part of this chapter, which must be one of my favourite love scenes. Enjoy!

Cross-posted on AO3

—

“So,” Jayce began, leaning against a nearby table with a raised eyebrow. “Are you going to tell me what happened after the party, or do I have to pry it out of you?”

Viktor didn’t look up from his work. “There is nothing to tell,” he said evenly, though the faintest twitch of his jaw betrayed him.

“Really? Because from what I saw, Renly looked ready to melt into you by the time you left,” Jayce said, not bothering to hide his grin. “And don’t even try denying it. I saw the two of you. Did you walk her home?”

Viktor exhaled sharply, setting his pen down. “No, she didn’t want me to. I don’t think I exactly met her expectations that night,” he added wearily.

Jayce frowned, his grin fading as he studied Viktor's expression. “Her expectations? Viktor, what are you talking about? I am worked up from the tension between you two, and from where I’m standing, it looks like she’s tired of the games.”

Viktor's lips tightened into a thin line as he rubbed his temple. “Perhaps,” he murmured. “But it is not so simple. I cannot—” He cut himself off, searching for the right words. “Renly… deserves someone whole. Someone who can give her what she needs, without limitations or complications.”

Jayce groaned, throwing his head back dramatically. “Oh, for the love of Gods, Viktor, not this again. You’re doing that thing where you convince yourself that you’re the problem before anyone else has even said a word about it. Do you honestly think Renly cares about your so-called ‘limitations’?”

Viktor’s gaze hardened. “It is not a matter of what she cares about now, Jayce. It is a matter of what she will care about, eventually. People always say such things at the beginning. They make promises they cannot keep because they do not yet understand the full reality.”

Jayce crossed his arms and stared at Viktor incredulously. “You really think Renly’s like that? That she’s just going to up and decide one day that you’re not enough for her? Have you even given her the chance to prove you wrong?”

Viktor’s jaw clenched. “I am giving her the chance, Jayce. By not allowing this… whatever it is to escalate into something we both regret.”

Jayce shook his head, letting out a low chuckle that was equal parts frustration and disbelief. “You’re unbelievable, you know that? You’re so damn smart, but when it comes to feelings, you’re a complete idiot. News flash, Viktor: the world isn’t going to wait for you to feel ready. And neither is Renly.”

Viktor didn’t respond immediately, his eyes fixed on the blueprints before him, though his focus was clearly elsewhere. The weight of Jayce’s words hung in the air, pressing down on him like a tangible force.

Finally, he spoke, his voice quieter but no less resolute. “I am not like you, Jayce. I cannot afford to be careless with matters of the heart. Not when there is so much at stake. If this were to fail…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “It would break me.”

Jayce softened, his frustration giving way to something more understanding. He stepped closer, placing a hand on Viktor’s shoulder. “Look, I get it. You’re scared. But don’t you think that’s kind of the point? If it wasn’t terrifying, it wouldn’t be worth it. You don’t have to have everything figured out right now, but you do have to try. Otherwise, you’re just going to push her away—and I promise you, Viktor, that’s going to hurt a hell of a lot more than taking the risk.”

Viktor finally looked up, meeting Jayce’s gaze. There was conflict in his eyes, a battle between the walls he had spent years building and the growing crack Renly had managed to carve into them.

“I will consider your words,” he said after a long pause, his tone measured but tinged with something vulnerable. “But I make no promises.”

Jayce smiled faintly, patting Viktor on the shoulder before stepping back. “That’s all I’m asking. Just… don’t overthink it, okay? Not everything in life needs a blueprint.”

As Jayce walked away, Viktor returned to his work, though the words of his friend lingered. For all his logic and reason, he couldn’t deny the truth in what Jayce had said. And yet, the fear remained, an ever-present shadow that refused to let go.

Because Viktor knew one thing for certain: the closer he allowed himself to get to Renly, the greater the risk of losing everything he had fought so hard to protect.

***

Renly trudged up the steps to the lab, her feet dragging with a heaviness she couldn’t shake. She checked the time on her pocket watch for the third time that morning—or rather, the early afternoon—and winced. Nearly four hours late.

She’d debated whether she should come in at all, entertaining the idea of calling out sick, but even the thought of leaving Viktor alone to stew with his thoughts made her restless. It wasn’t as though she could escape him, anyway. His voice was in her head, his touch still lingering in the ghostly way that made her chest ache.

She pulled her coat tighter around her shoulders, despite the warmth of the late morning sun. The sky above Piltover was clear, but inside, her thoughts were anything but.

Renly stepped into the lab building, keeping her head low and her pace brisk. The familiar hum of machinery greeted her, but for once, it didn’t calm her nerves. Every step toward the lab’s main floor felt heavier, as if her body were actively protesting her decision to face the day.

She didn’t bother peeking in to see if Jayce or Viktor were there. If she did, there was a chance one of them might spot her, and she wasn’t ready for either of their voices—Jayce’s friendly concern or Viktor’s infuriating calmness.

Slipping past the main work area, Renly made a beeline for the tiny side room she sometimes used when she needed privacy—or an escape. The room was little more than a glorified closet with a workbench and a stool, but it was quiet, and, more importantly, it had a lock.

She shut the door behind her softly, letting out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. Setting her bag down on the bench, she leaned against the wall and closed her eyes.

She wasn’t ready for this. Not for Viktor, not for Jayce, not for anything.

Despite the promise of a weekend to recharge, she’d spent most of it replaying Friday night in her head. The way Viktor’s voice had softened when he said, “I don’t have an answer, Renly.” The way her heart had dropped at his hesitation. And, worst of all, the way she’d turned away from him, leaving them both in that miserable, unspoken limbo.

She rubbed her temples, trying to push the memory aside, but it clung stubbornly.

“I should’ve just stayed home,” she muttered to herself, kicking off her boots and curling up on the stool. The bench in front of her was scattered with leftover components from her last experiment—a half-finished mess she didn’t have the energy to clean up.

She stared at it for a moment, willing herself to start something, anything to keep her mind off Viktor. But her hands stayed still, too heavy to lift.

Her mind raced as she picked apart the weekend in her head. Maybe she shouldn’t have been so direct. Maybe she shouldn’t have cornered him. Maybe… maybe he was right, and this wasn’t something she should push.

But another part of her, the part that refused to let go of the way Viktor’s heartbeat had sounded beneath her cheek, wasn’t ready to give up.

The sound of muffled voices outside the room made her stiffen. She recognized Jayce’s booming laugh first, then Viktor’s measured reply. She couldn’t make out the words, but the low timbre of Viktor’s voice sent a fresh wave of frustration rolling through her. She decided to bury herself in work once again.

She had no idea how much time had passed. She also didn’t really know what she was doing, aside from aimlessly fiddling with the properties of the formula. That was, until something went wrong and one of her vials exploded without warning.

She snapped. Letting out a frustrated snarl, she shouted, “I fucking hate viscosity!”—forgetting entirely that she’d meant to stay quiet.

The sound echoed sharply in the confined room, and before the realization of what she’d just done could sink in, she heard a soft knock at the door.

“Ugh… come in,” she groaned, her voice heavy with resignation as the door opened with a faint creak.

“Renly.”

Her movements froze mid-motion, halfway through wiping the mess off her desk. She didn’t turn around. “What is it, Viktor?”

Her voice was flat, her tone clipped. The sharpness of it stung more than he cared to admit, but he pressed on, leaning heavily on his cane as he entered the room.

“Did you mean to be distant?” His voice was quiet but weary, laced with an edge of vulnerability. He hadn’t heard her come in earlier. And he definitely hadn’t expected her—of all people—to hide.

She let out a sharp, humourless laugh, finally turning to face him. “That’s rich, coming from you.”

He flinched at her words but held his ground. “I deserve that,” he admitted, his throat tightening. “But I…” He paused, struggling to find the right words. “I want to talk.”

Her arms folded across her chest, a defensive shield he longed to break through. “About what? How things are better if they’re left unchanged? I don’t think I have the strength for that today. I’ve learned my lesson.”

“That is not—” He stopped himself, frustration flaring in his chest. Exhaling slowly, he gripped his cane tighter. “That is not what I think.”

“Really?” she shot back, her gaze sharp and unrelenting. “Because you were pretty blunt about it last time.”

His knuckles whitened on the cane. “I never wanted to hurt you,” he said, his voice thick with regret. “I spoke with Jayce,” he added wearily, searching her face for any cracks in her guarded expression.

“Did he tell you what an idiot you are, so I don’t have to?” she muttered, turning away to sweep shards of glass from the workbench.

Viktor stepped forward, calculating whether he should touch her hand, guide her to face him. Instead, he walked up to the desk and stood beside her, placing his palm close to hers.

He hesitated, his breath catching. “I am weak around you,” he said, his voice small, barely a whisper.

Renly froze, though she didn’t move away. Their shoulders brushed lightly. Viktor gathered his courage and ghosted his fingers over hers, the faintest touch. “From the moment I understood the weakness of my flesh, it disgusted me. And I have projected that disgust onto others—onto you.”

Her brow furrowed, her lips parting in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“I’ve spent my life fighting to overcome my limitations,” he said, his voice low but steady. “My body has been nothing but a reminder of fragility, of failure. I hate it. And I... I feared you might one day hate it too.” He looked at her then, his amber eyes raw with vulnerability. “So I pushed you away. I thought it was mercy.”

Renly’s arms fell to her sides, her expression softening as the weight of his confession settled between them. “Mercy?” she whispered, her voice trembling. “Viktor, this is torture. It’s inhumane. It’s… it’s—”

His lips twitched into a faint, rueful smile. “Yes,” he said. “I am aware.”

She took a shaky breath, a laugh escaping despite herself. “You wasted so much time. So much pain—for nothing.”

“Not nothing,” he said softly. “For you.”

Her chest tightened, and she turned to him, her hands trembling. “Viktor,” she began, her voice barely audible. “You’re wrong. About your body, about what you think I see.”

He blinked, his breath hitching as she closed the distance between them.

“I don’t see failure,” she said, her words firm even as her voice quivered. “I see someone who fights every day, who inspires, who... who has my heart, whether he wants it or not.”

His cane clattered to the floor as his hand reached for her face, his fingers brushing her cheek as though he couldn’t quite believe she was real. “Renly,” he murmured, her name a prayer on his lips. “You undo me. Entirely. Completely,” he whispered, his hands already wrapping around her. “I am at my limit. I surrender to you—if you will have me.”

His lips brushed against hers as he spoke. Hers remained still, tentative, as though she hadn’t yet caught up to the reality of what was unfolding.

Without waiting for her reply, Viktor’s hand slid beneath her shirt, his touch seeking the warmth of her skin. His other hand rested gently on the side of her neck, keeping her face close, their noses brushing in an intimate collision. He kissed her deeply, longingly, wrapping all of himself around her, as if to shield her from the world.

Renly’s fingers finally tangled in his hair, her touch hesitant yet possessive, grounding herself in the moment. His hands moved with quiet confidence, slipping around her waist and pulling her firmly against him. The intensity of his hold sent a shiver racing through her, a wordless plea not to let go. Their kiss became a delicate dance—a push and pull, her lips pressing forward, his retreating, both testing the fragile boundary between longing and surrender.

The taste of him was unexpected—warm, intoxicating, layered with a quiet intensity that mirrored the man himself. The faint scent of parchment and oil clung to him, grounding her even as the rest of the world blurred around them. His fingers pressed into her back, firm yet gentle, a reminder that here, in this moment, she was his focus, his anchor, his everything.

When they finally broke apart, it was only by the smallest fraction, breathing each other in. Renly’s chest heaved, as if she had surfaced from deep water, her lips tingling from the lingering warmth of his. Viktor’s gaze burned with molten intensity, his pupils wide as he studied her face, as though committing every detail to memory. His voice, when he spoke, was soft and reverent. “I waited for this… far too long.”

They stayed like that, holding each other in the quiet, the lab around them forgotten. For the first time, they were not scientists, not colleagues—just two people who, after so much fear and hesitation, had finally found their way to each other.

“Viktor,” Renly broke the silence hesitantly, her voice trembling just enough to betray her nerves. “I don’t mean to be blunt or pushy, but…” Her cheeks burned impossibly hotter, and she forced herself to continue. “I might… implode sometime soon if you don’t—” Her words caught in her throat. Fuck me.

Viktor laughed, the sound catching her off guard. She blinked, startled, realizing with a jolt that this might have been the first time she’d seen him smile like this—teeth and all. “Here?” he asked, his disbelief tinged with amusement.

Renly dropped her head in embarrassment, but Viktor gently caught her chin, tilting her face back up to meet his gaze. “No,” he murmured, his voice soft but sure. “I want to do this…” His lips brushed her cheek in a feather-light kiss. “…Properly.”

His next words were a whisper against her mouth, just before another delicate kiss. “Your place, or mine?” he asked, his hands cradling her neck, long fingers meeting at the base of her skull in a way that made her shiver.

“Mine… no. Yours,” Renly corrected herself quickly, her face flushing anew as the image of her cluttered apartment flashed through her mind.

Viktor chuckled again, the sound warm and disarming. “Are you worried I will, trip over something at yours?”

“Something like that…” she replied, attempting to match his teasing tone. But beneath her words, she dreaded the possibility of Viktor being confronted with the chaos she had let her apartment fall into over the past two days.

They walked together in silence, hand in hand, their steps slow and deliberate. Thankfully, their apartments were close, nestled within the academy’s nearby residential area.

Renly’s pulse thundered in her fingertips, and it didn’t take long for Viktor to notice.

“Are you nervous? Or… excited?” he teased, his tone low but playful.

“Um… both?” she admitted, though the truth was far less composed. She was scared out of her mind. And for the life of her, she couldn’t fathom Viktor’s calm, steady demeanour. It was as though, once he’d decided, nothing could shake his resolve.

She glanced up at him, studying his profile in the dim light. For a fleeting moment, she saw him as he must have been once—a fearless boy from the Undercity, driven and unshakable.

“Ladies first.” Viktor gave a slight bow, his hand gesturing toward the open door of his apartment.

Renly stepped inside, her eyes flickering over the space as she fought to steady her nerves. His apartment was modest, neatly kept, but with a distinct personality. Books were stacked in uneven towers, some with notes and diagrams spilling from their pages like secrets waiting to be discovered.

She opened her mouth, ready to tease him about being more of a hoarder than she’d expected, but before the words could form, Viktor’s arms were around her. In a swift, fluid motion, he twisted her toward him, claiming her lips with a greediness that sent her heart racing.

She barely registered the feel of the wall against her back as his hands roamed her body, their touch unhurried yet decisive. One hand slid to the back of her neck, his fingers curling against her skin in a way that made her shiver. He was entirely in control, and for once, she let herself surrender to it.

“You have bewitched me,” he murmured softly, his voice quiet and thick with the accent. “You have pursued me longer than anyone else would.” His lips ghosted her cheeks, her eyelids, her neck, and she felt parts of herself clenching on nothing but air. Her neck still in his grasp, he guided her to look up and meet his gaze.

He could feel her hesitation, like a delicate tension in the air between them. It was familiar, yet it thrilled him all the same. He was not in a rush, though—he knew exactly how to navigate the moment, how to make her aware of the weight of his presence without overwhelming her. There was power in control, and for once, Viktor knew he would wield it with precision, just as he had in every aspect of his life. But this wasn’t about conquest—it was about trust, something she would give him only when she was ready.

“You have been pushing my buttons for months now.” Viktor stopped momentarily to study her face. She looked at him dazed, her eyelids hooded, her gaze pensive. “It’s about time you tell me…,” he whispered into hear ear and she could feel the curve of his confident smirk on her earlobe. “…Which buttons would you like me to push for you.”

Her pulse raced, but it was a strange, quiet excitement. She had never quite felt this way before, this drawn in by a person, this willing to be vulnerable. She wanted to trust him, she wanted to lean into the pull, but there was something inside her that hesitated. It wasn’t fear—it was uncertainty. She wanted to know what it would feel like to give in. Her heart seemed to beat faster with each breath, her body betraying her, melting under Viktor’s touch. She always thought him a shy lover. The realisation of how wrong she was almost made her chuckle.

As Renly collected herself enough to answer, Viktor hugged the curve of her ass with both of his hands and grazed his still clothed, half-hard cock through the spot where her thighs met, earning himself a full volume moan falling from her lips.

The last walls she had built came crumbling down. Her body felt lighter, as if the tension she hadn’t even realized she was holding had dissipated, another building up in its place. She wasn’t controlling this moment, but that felt right. Viktor’s presence was a steadying force, grounding her, guiding her through the vulnerability she’d never allowed herself to embrace before. It was terrifying and thrilling at once—this feeling of surrender.

He could feel the shift in her—how she had gone from uncertainty to openness. That realization brought him a quiet sense of satisfaction. She was trusting him with more than just her body now; she was trusting him with her mind, her heart. There was something in the way she responded to him now, the way she let herself go, that was pure. Viktor felt as if he had been granted access to something so delicate, so personal. And he knew that, with her, he could never betray that trust. His heart, usually so guarded, opened just a crack, and he let her in—just enough to feel her as she truly was: beautiful, vulnerable, and utterly his in that moment.

Viktor leaned close, his voice low but deliberate, his breath warm against her ear. “Tell me, Reynard Huxley of Zaun… what do you want from me?” The question was spoken with an unshakable calm, a kind of authority that left no room for doubt, only for her to answer truthfully.

Renly swallowed hard, her pulse hammering as she searched for the right words. There was so much she could have said—so much she wanted, but every thought tangled into a mess in her mind. Finally, she breathed, “Your voice.”

His brow arched in faint amusement as he tilted his head, waiting for her to explain.

“Your voice,” she repeated, this time a bit steadier, though the heat in her cheeks betrayed her nerves. “I love it—your accent, the way you talk. It… it gets under my skin, in a good way,” she added quickly, her fingers gripping his sleeve. “So, keep talking. I want to hear you.”

The corners of Viktor’s mouth lifted into the barest of smiles, a glint of mischief flickering in his golden eyes. “Ah,” he said softly, drawing out the sound as if savouring her admission. “So, you will leave me to do all the work tonight, then?”

She let out a nervous laugh, her head falling forward slightly until he tilted her chin up with a single finger. “No,” she murmured, though her voice faltered under his gaze. “I just… I want to hear you. All of you.”

Viktor chuckled lightly, his thumb brushing over her jaw. “All of me?” he repeated, the words deliberate, his tone playful yet commanding. “You will have to keep up, then. I am not known for being gentle when I am… inspired.”

Her heart stuttered, but she found herself nodding, her voice barely a whisper—“I’ll try.”

“No,” he said simply, his voice lowering an octave as he leaned in closer. “You will do more than try. You will let me guide you. Trust me… and listen.”

The words sent a shiver through her, and for a moment, she forgot how to breathe. There was no teasing in his tone anymore—only a quiet assurance, a certainty that somehow melted away her fears and left her entirely at his mercy.

He took her hand in his and guided her silently toward the bedroom. The room was small, slightly more cluttered compared to the rest of his quiet space. Various trinkets, tools, and souvenirs were scattered across the shelves.

Before she could ask about any of them, Renly saw Viktor propping his cane against the bed frame.

“Come here,” he said softly, beckoning her closer.

Seeing her expression remain neutral as she approached, he added, “You will tell me if anything is not to your liking, yes?”

Renly nodded, momentarily taken aback by his authority.

“I would like you to undress me,” he said firmly, steadying himself on her shoulders. “And I will do the same for you.”

This. This was Viktor was doing his magic. She knew exactly where this came from—the brace. This was his way of reforging a memory of shame into one of intimacy and pleasure.

With shaky fingers she decided the obvious place to start was the cravat. She pulled it gently through his button-down band, revealing the pool where his collar bones met. The density of his freckles increasing under the material.

She was so focused on her task that she didn’t realize her shirt was already unbuttoned until Viktor’s fingers grazed her skin—his handiwork, as always, precise and swift. She stole a glance at his face and saw it filled with awe; his eyes transfixed on her chest. “You are… astonishing.” He smiled at her, the words bringing back the memory of a compliment that had earned him mockery not long ago.

She managed to catch up, and a few moments later, she hesitated. Should the brace stay or go? Viktor caught the question on her face and answered before she could ask—“This thing too,” he murmured reassuringly. “Don’t worry, I won’t fall apart.”

They stood opposite each other, their torsos bare. At last, Renly got to trace an invisible line with her fingers, connecting all of Viktor’s freckles and beauty marks, leading down to his hip bone. She stared at him, her brows pinched together and her mouth slightly agape—he was so beautiful. Scars scattered across his ribs, where the brace had scratched his flesh, forming opalescent, delicate brush strokes of pearly white.

He pulled her closer, leaning forward to press his face against her breasts, inhaling deeply. “To think I was willing to leave this world one day without ever experiencing this,” he murmured, his voice muffled against her skin.

“Is there a poet hidden within you that I wasn’t aware of, Viktor?” she teased, desperately trying to break the tension that had overtaken her. She leaned into the joke, though the truth was, she felt overwhelmed by his reverence. It was ironic, really—their roles reversed, with her now the one under his microscope in this moment.

“Tell me if you’re uncomfortable. But…” He lifted himself gently from her chest to meet her gaze. “I certainly hope you’re not. I could study you endlessly.” His voice carried a quiet confidence, and he looked on, clearly satisfied, as a blush crept up her neck.

“Can I...?” Renly asked, glancing down at his leg.

“Oh, yes, you may,” Viktor replied. “But for that, I need to sit down. So, allow me to go first.” Not entirely sure what he meant by ‘go first,’ she let herself be guided toward the edge of the bed. Viktor sat down and then gently settled her between his legs. He placed a kiss on her belly before starting to undo the buttons on the back of her skirt. Oh. She was going to be very naked soon.

When her last piece of serious clothing formed a pool around her feet, Viktor started playing tentatively with the band of her underwear. She observed him from above, as he allowed himself a touch through the material, discovering her wetness—the effect of his thorough courtship.

“All this… for me,” he gasped, his tone breathy. Seeing her like this – flushed, aroused, all because of him, sparked an idea inside him. A new plan started to formulate. He pulled her into his lap. If she could, she would have hesitated, but Viktor’s grip was firmer than it seemed. Leaning into her ear, he whispered, “I would like you to take a seat,” pointing to his lips. “Here.”

Renly’s eyes widened, a quiet protest flickering within them. Her breath hitched as she remembered Viktor’s words—how he had expected her to speak up if anything felt wrong. After a moment of hesitation, she nodded instead.

“I will tap your thigh if I need to take a breath,” he murmured into her ear in a low, steady voice, balancing on the verge of the tone he used when explaining something in the lab. “And, most importantly,” a gentle squeeze of her thigh followed, “you will not abandon your seat until you come into my mouth, understood?” he finally commanded, more than asked. All she could manage was a quiet ‘yes.’

Viktor lay down on his back and guided Renly to hover above his face, her hands grasping the headboard behind him. A smirk curved his lips, when he instructed her to lower her hips, but she felt unsure about pressing all her weight onto him. Seeing her hesitation, he wrapped his arms around her thighs in a strong grip, his hands kneading the flesh of her hips, as he yanked her down to press her core to his face. His eyes flickered to hers from beyond the curve of her cunt, as he reassured her in a husky voice, “I promise I won’t break.”

He stroked the line of her with a long teasing lick, gently parting her with his tongue. Viktor could feel Renly shiver above him at the teasing sensation spreading itself through her body. She spotted his whisky eyes watching her hungrily, as his nose brushed itself gently against her clit, dragging a half-gasp half-moan, a weak attempt at mumbling out his name.  

“Did you like that?” His chuckle reverberated within her core and seeing no response coming, Viktor teased her again and again, until she granted him with a shaky ‘yes.’ He smiled against her skin and placed his tongue where his nose hovered a second ago, switching between small kitten licks and splaying his tongue flat against her in long drags, searching for what made her body tremble the most.

Feeling her slick drip down his chin, his ears filled with the sounds of her imminent release, he placed his mouth back at her entrance and ground his face against her clit, his own groans making her body jerk and twist.

He was eating her like a man starved. Feeling her walls clench around his tongue, he searched for a spot that made her toes curl, causing her hand to fall from the headboard into his locks as she pulled his face closer, her body bowed in pleasure over him.

He picked up his pace, fuelled by his name falling from her lips like a mantra, when her walls broke, her pleasure crashing over her. Viktor tightened his grip over her thighs, his arms holding her close as she rode her orgasm on the vibrations of her own name coming from his throat in muffled moans.

When he felt her body cooling, he slid her down to straddle his lap, lifted himself up, and kissed her longingly, stroking her back. “Did you enjoy it?”

“Viktor, I…,” she tried to formulate a sentence but could only rest her forehead against his. “I don’t think I’ve ever… I… I…,” she stuttered, causing Viktor to genuinely laugh for the first time she could recall.

“Have I achieved the impossible? Are you at a loss for words, my dear scholar?” he asked, a smile still painted on his face.

“You have no idea,” she replied, leaving a dozen feather-light kisses on his face. “Can we take your trousers off now?” she asked, having recollected herself from the post-climax haze.

“Certainly. But wasn’t it your task tonight?” She caught him smirking again. Soon, they were both equally naked. Renly kissed the scares on his knee as she removed his leg brace. He winced slightly but decided to let her do it, since she let him probe through all of her defences tonight. Viktor finally got to trace the line of her tattoo with his fingers, sending shivers down her spine.

He shifted on the bed, bringing her from kneeling at his legs back to straddling his lap. His fingers ghosted over the plane of her face, briefly cradling it with his hand before moving down her neck and her chest. Gently cupping her breast with one hand, he brought the other to do the same. His palms gave them a gentle squeeze before Viktor leaned forward and latched his mouth onto one of her nipples, the other not forgotten as he delicately stroked it with his thumb.

Renly gasped at the sudden attention, her hands finding purchase in his hair to steady herself against him. He switched between her breasts, to give each the same amount of his careful attention, taking note in how she reacted and continuing the same gestures that caused her to writhe against him.

He gave her sensitive skin a gentle nip, causing Renly to moan in pleasure, before one of his hands travelled down her torso to reach her cunt. The free palm went to cup her face again, bringing her into a heated, passionate kiss. His tongue played against her mouth, coaxing her to open and she met him in the middle of a tug war game between their lips.

Viktor’s fingers spread her cunt gently to reveal all the slick she gathered for him, his thumb giving her clit a slow, experimental rub. Renly gasped against his lips at the sudden touch, and he repeated the motion in response. She rested her head in the crook of his neck, pressing a lingering kiss there, as he explored the pressure and speed she desired. It wasn’t long before he had her panting and grinding herself on his hand, a hot pressure building up in her lower belly.

As she was edging toward another release, Viktor cupped her cunt and pushed one finger inside, releasing a whine from her lips at the change of touch. She was a panting, flushed mess on his lap, Viktor’s finger fucking her slowly. He kept adding one when he felt her loosen, flexing her walls by scissoring his fingers apart and grinding the heel of his palm against her clit. He retreated his hand once he was happy with his ministrations and licked his fingers clean, making sure her eyes were fixed on him. “You are simply divine,” he whispered as Renly pulled him into a sloppy kiss, tasting herself in his mouth.

Her palms drifted down his abdomen, trailing along the freckles spattered on his skin. She slid her palm flat down his lower belly to grasp his cock and give him a long, languid stroke. her forehead resting against his. Viktor shuddered at the attention to his length—he was long with a gentle curve to it, something he was rather insecure about previously, but now found himself adoring the way her hands explored him.

She gently rubbed her thumb on the tip, spreading the leak of pre-cum to add some slide to her strokes. She studied which movements made him gasp, watched him as his composure began to faulter and his head fell back against the bed. “Fuck,” he mouthed a voiceless curse, making her lips curl into a smile. Finally, she brought him carefully to her entrance, coating him in her slick. His hands found her hips as he steadily guided her down onto him, pausing to let her adjust. By the time she had him hilted they both gasped tentatively at the sensation, as if it were too much.

Viktor pulled her torso flush against his, holding her tenderly as he rolled his hips in the first experimental thrust, gauging on how she was taking him. His mouth fell open against hers, their breaths mingling together with a sound full of yearning. Renly ground her pelvis against his until they found a rhythm that was inching them both toward completion.

“Fuck, Renly,” Viktor’s voice strained as he was chasing his pleasure, fucking her with everything he had. Each thrust deep, earning him small gasps falling from her lips. For Viktor, it was a quiet kind of undoing, a descent into something both utterly foreign and achingly familiar. Every touch, every breath, felt like it stripped away the layers of armour he’d spent a lifetime constructing. His world, so often dominated by calculations and control, was suddenly governed by sensation—her warmth, her quiet moans, the way her hands clung to him like she feared the moment would slip through her fingers.

It was humbling, almost terrifying, to be so seen. And yet, it wasn’t the frailty of his body or the imperfections he had so long despised that held her gaze. It was him. The way she looked at him—as if he were something precious, something more than the sum of his flaws—shook him to his core.

Her trust was staggering, her surrender an offering he scarcely felt he deserved. But the way she responded to him, the way her body moved with his, left no room for doubt or hesitation. Here, there was no weakness, no failure—only a shared rhythm, a harmony he hadn’t known was possible.

And in that moment, as he let himself drown in her, Viktor felt something unexpected: not power, but peace. A rare and fleeting quiet in the chaos of his mind, a fragile stillness born of connection rather than control. She had given it to him freely, and in return, he gave her everything he had left to offer.

[firstelevens]

For the handholding writing meme, #49 (or! Whichever one you most want to write)

49. taking the other’s hand to look for injuries

you are always so gracious with the prompts that you give! I have naught to offer in return but my gratitude and also this deeply silly fic, which could be read as a sequel to this

"Do you think it's clear yet?" whispers Sam, as quietly as he can. The noises that he'd heard just outside have since faded, and his muscles are starting to feel the strain of how tensely he's holding himself.

Bucky frowns, tilting his head towards the door like it'll help him hear better. "I definitely heard footsteps coming this way, and I didn't hear any going back," he murmurs. "They've got to be right on top of us."

"We'd know for sure if we could get eyes on the hallway."

A groan rumbles through Bucky's chest. Sam is pressed close enough to feel it in his own. "Is this about your stupid robot? Again?" he hisses. "I said I was sorry; how was I supposed to know he was in the blast radius when that grenade went off? You weren't even supposed to be there, and neither was your bird."

"If you hate Redwing so much, how come you had Shuri make me two of him?" Sam hisses, moving a few inches back--it's not easy; he doesn't exactly have wiggle room here--so he can glare at Bucky.

Expectedly, Bucky scowls. "I knew you weren't always gonna let me watch your six. How else was I supposed to keep you safe?"

Something squeezes in Sam's chest, achy but in the good way. "Buck," he says softly.

"I'm just saying, I wouldn't have hurt him on purpose," grumbles Bucky. "That would defeat the point."

Sam hums in acknowledgment, dropping his head to rest on Bucky's shoulder. "That's very practical of you," he says. "And here I thought you just had a crush on me."

Bucky snorts, turning to press his lips to Sam's forehead. "What could possibly have given you that idea, hm?"

"The fact that your hand is on my ass, for starters," Sam says, settling more comfortably against Bucky's chest. It's the closest they've gotten to be in months, and Sam doesn't know what he'll do when it comes to an end. "Also the part where you and your whole team showed up to the compound and you brooded in a corner anytime I paid attention to someone who wasn't you."

"I wasn't brooding; I was waiting," says Bucky. "You knew exactly what you were doing."

"Oh yeah? Like you knew what you were doing when you posted up in the common room in a stupid tight t-shirt and those inappropriate sweatpants, waiting for me to come down and get water before bed?"

"They're literally your sweatpants, Sam."

"That was the inappropriate part," says Sam, gently cuffing Bucky on the shoulder. He doesn't bother to pull away when Bucky catches his hand and holds onto it. "I'm trying to be professional and lead a team here, you know."

"Yeah, well, my partner was caught in an explosion, so you have to forgive me for skipping professionalism so I could make sure he was in one piece." Bucky punctuates this by kissing the shrapnel cuts over Sam's knuckles, one by one, then moving his lips to the scar on Sam's wrist, and then again to the scrape on the heel of his hand.

Sam lets his eyes close, pressing his face into Bucky's neck and relishing the familiar scrape of stubble. "Is that what last night was? You making sure your partner wasn't injured?"

Bucky goes still against Sam, his hands no less gentle as they hold Sam close. "You know it wasn't," he says softly. "I mean, I made it clear, right? You know how I feel about you?"

"Yeah," mumbles Sam, right against Bucky's pulse point. "You know I- you know I feel the same way about you, right?"

"I did start to get a sense of that," says Bucky. "Right around the time we had sex on the quinjet after that mission and then you took me home to meet your entire extended family and then we fucked again on the boat. I still don't understand how no one caught us."

Before Sam can respond that given the knowing look Carlos shot him the next afternoon someone definitely almost caught them, there's a very loud, very theatrical throat-clearing noise from right near the door. "Maybe we should re--" he starts to say, before he's cut off.

"Hey, guys," says John Walker, still too-loudly. Sam scowls into Bucky's shoulder at the sound. "Isn't it so weird how all super-soldiers have enhanced hearing? Isn't that just the weirdest thing how we can hear most things through thick walls?"

"Nope," says a voice beyond the door, who Sam thinks might be Ava. He's not sure; he's suddenly too busy being mortified to consider it.

"Holy shit," he whispers, eyes wide open. "There are two other super-soldiers here."

"I know; I'm stuck with them," says Bucky, and then yelps like the big baby he is when Sam lightly swats at his chest and wriggles out of his arms, sitting up with his arms crossed. "What?"

"Bucky," Sam hisses. "There are two other super soldiers here, and they were both on the floor above us, and we were here, in guest quarters with no soundproofing, doing things that were definitely not quiet!"

"Americans! So uptight," calls Alexei, and Sam wants to die a little bit maybe. "Love is beautiful, Captain. You and Barnes, you made beautiful music together."

Sam turns to glare at Bucky. "I'm gonna kill you," he says flatly.

Bucky sits up in bed slowly, like he's worried that sudden movements will spell his doom. "Okay," he says, his hands out in a placating gesture. "You can take your best shot later, but since they already know, why don't I get you some caffeine first? No point in trying to fight someone while you haven't slept."

"And just whose fault is that?"

"Don't pretend we're not both to blame for that," says Bucky, putting all that stealth training to good use as he slips out of the bed, barely jostling it. He bends over to grab those sweatpants again and Sam takes a beat to check out his regrettably cute ass.

Bucky manages to find a shirt, too, a henley that definitely also belongs to Sam. He stops by the bed before he leaves the room, leaning down to kiss Sam's cheek.

"I'm sorry about the...you know," he says, gesturing to the ceiling. "Promise I'll make it up to you, sweetheart."

"You better," says Sam, tipping his chin up for a kiss and fighting a grin when Bucky obliges. He waits for Bucky to make his way across the room, watching until he just opens the door, and then calls out, louder than he needs to, "And bring yourself back to bed along with the coffee, sugar. I'm not done with you yet!"

Bucky instantly goes red, whirling on Sam with betrayal on his face. Sam just grins and blows him a kiss before waving him out the door. As the door closes behind Bucky, he can hear laughter and Yelena loudly ooh-ing from the common area. He sinks back against the pillows, pulling the comforter over his head, and waits for his coffee and for Bucky.

Mostly for Bucky.

[tuliptiger]

The number of times I've rewatched Arcane is truly astounding. There is a new facet of each character I get through every time, it's such a show that rewards you when you take another look at it.

It's really weird to me people are taking such harsh stances on Vi, Jinx (specifically not Powder) and Caitlyn. People's opinions are their own full stop but I think all of these extreme views of these characters could be changed by just watching the show again?

Caitlyn -

At the end we get an entire scene dedicated to both Jinx and Caitlyn saying PLAINLY, where we rarely get obvious, that they do Not hate each other anymore. They've grown, they've empathized, they've moved on. Forgiven? Debatable but they have for sure moved past hating.

My interpretation of what Jinx said, about blowing the building up with Caitlyn's mom, wasn't ever intended to be an apology. I think it was to reply to what Caitlyn said, Jinx was saying I don't hate you either, I wouldn't have changed my actions but it wasn't personal to you and I don't hate you personally. She definitely still killed her mom, but it wasn't because of anything Caitlyn did and it wasn't personal.

Has anyone considered Caitlyn's feelings on that entire situation too if we follow that lens of the jail scene? She definitely blamed herself in some way for her moms death. Either for her hesitation in not killing Jinx, which she's stated, or she may have even felt that Jinx took her hatred of Caitlyn out on her mother directy. With Jinx's words in the jail scene, Caitlyn can walk away knowing that it wasn't anything she did to influence or cause her mom's death, Jinx was going to do it anyway and she literally could have had no way of knowing that.

Are they besties and love each other and want to be in each other's space more than they maybe have to be? That's up to peoples interpretation on that one because we don't really get any canon for that to go on. I'd say based on everything that is Caitlyn, she'd try to be cordial and make nice awkwardly.

Caitlyn's character as a whole is so subtle compared to what media normally gives for any and all characters in general. It's in the details, it's in the subtleness of facial expressions and eyes, and it's absolutely in all of the flown by one liners that have incredible story weight. The number of things I've personally missed in season 2 where they give us a huge explanation of what's going on, and it's in a montage and it's 3 words long. Caitlyn is IN those lines.

It's in her comparisons, it's in her parallels with JINX. And that's not even subtle or a stretch they're everywhere. What each scene and each parallel scene means... is harder to interpret for me honestly but I can see it and recognize it all the same. Caitlyn is such a sweetheart, she really is. She's also a hard worker, dedicated and strong willed. All of this is shown in the show and people don't...ever talk about this or say the complete opposite. Many people have said how people are harder on Caitlyn than Jinx for similar or same "crimes" and I have to agree.

Vi -

Vi haters I sincerely, I don't get you guys I'm going to say that straight up. Vi only ever chose with her heart, she's like the most normal person out of everyone in this show. Like if you picked any random stranger off the real world street from anywhere I personally feel like she'd act like any regular person.

Maybe not the giant fist gloves cuz that's scary and being up close fighting is also scary. But using fighting and alcohol to fight off your demons and go into a mad spiral when your life falls apart? That's real shit. Choosing your family over most things? That's real. Choosing your significant other over things is also real.

These are all things in real life that people do all the fucking time and it either pans out or it doesn't but the POINT is when it comes to making choices in relationships it's not ALWAYS about choosing what makes sense. Or what's "morally" correct, she was choosing with her big old stupid dumb truck of a heart and she loved and she believed and she wanted to do everything she possibly could to support the people she loved.

She spent like 7 years in a horrific hell prison and that, as an understatement, does stuff to you especially being put in there at what 16?

She was, I'm going to go out on a limb, in MY interpretation of her character, and say she was not selfish a single time the entire series. She did everything to get back to Powder, and then she learned Powder was Jinx, she tried to help Ekko and Caitlyn as an in-between. And she still chose Powder even if she didn't get to make it to her. Her everything was always helping others, what were her grand motivations and goals? Like nothing, there's nothing there other than loving and being around people she likes.

She had a moment of weakness where she lost everything and was in an incredible amount of pain emotionally and physically when she hit Powder. And she was going to go back for her after she had a MOMENT to try and clear her head after watching her FAMILY DIE AND hitting her sister out of anger. And hitting Powder HORRIFIED her after she realized what she did. Let us not forget Marcus wouldn't even be there if not for Silco working with him in the first place btw. Silco will come up again.

Jinx -

She's my baby. I love her. She's so tragic it kills me and we get a clear picture of who she could've been with love and support in the AU. With Vander and anyone other than fucking SILCO.

Silco side note - People Love to ignore how shitty he was for her. Yes he sincerely loved her, I think he was well written and a compelling character. He also lied, manipulated and directly put her in harm mentally and physically constantly. He encouraged and grew her into a monster, be it for her own defense or more likely for himself and his own hurts he never dealt with.

In the au, I guess when she doesn't accidentally kill her family, she turns out healthier too. And I can't stress enough she DOES accidentally kill her family at...12 years old.

Another more related side note, people also love to look past or not even mention the unbelievable and stupendous fact of bombs and explosives in this universe. Who in their right mind would expect to find a magical bomb during a robbery. Who would expect Jinx to pull out a magically charged fuck-you shark cannon and blow up the counsel building. She just recognized that the bombs were related to the apartment explosion, I doubt she was really thinking HOW explosive they would be packed together in one of her bombs that famously never work. Idk man I don't regularly expect things that shouldn't explode to explode or for them to come up in any scenario really.

Anyway! Not even getting into how fucked it is to be a preteen in general, not getting into how fucked it is to grow up poor and in a violent environment that is Zaun and have the meager and small body type Powder had like. Vi also had to deal with most of that but at her age she had her mom and dad and Vander and Silco. Powder had Vi, as a child herself, and Vander.

ANYWAY. Totally not counting any of that, a 12 year old unknowingly partakes in the Arcane's grand plans to completely fuck over her life and accidentally kills her family. Is, in her mind, disowned by the only person left in her life. Is then collected by Silco who subsequently fuels her insecurities and shatters her identity, sense of self and mind.

At 18! 18! Her world is shattered once more many times over in rapid succession by learning Silco lied to her, Vi is alive and looking for her, Vi is alive and actually she replaced you (in her head) with another blue haired blue eyed sharpshooter who's cooler and better than you ever were and she's a cop. Great awesome and you accidentally snap during a mental breakdown and for the second time kill one of your dads. And you don't get to stay with your sister because you think she doesn't love you anymore.

Jinx and Vi were also not given one single god damned moment alone to talk and clear the damn air and it's a tragedy. I KNOW it's a tragedy but it's still frustrating as hell.

And I don't want to go into every single moment and every single wrong doing on her part, it'd be exhausted. Mental health isn't ever satisfying. Period. There's never a good reason or an acceptable reason why someone does a shitty thing and it isn't an excuse for the action. It's just a reason and if it makes that reason a little more understandable then that kind of sucks when you just wanted to hate that character. When you just wanted the moral high ground.

She bombed the council building. She kidnapped and traumatized Caitlyn on more than one occasion, with the traumatizing part. She killed innocent people. She gassed an entire population of people untargetted and unspecifically. She was planning on dying during that attack. She helped Silco with his drug empire, and his oppression of his own people.

She was 18. Piltover oppressed and took advantage of Zaun for decades if not centuries, any time is too long but the important part was that it was her entire life and her loved ones lives. She was struggling with her identity, not the normal "who am I" we all deal with growing up but a real identity crisis. Powder, the nothing, the Jinx, the can't do anything right, the weak one, and the family killer vs Jinx, a Jinx by choice and to others, a predator, strong, capable, inventive, independent and dangerous. She lost everything over and over and over again and sincerely believed it was her DIRECT fault everyone around her died. She was so in her own head she didn't have the capacity to look at the reality around her and make sane decisions.

She needed help and she needed a rock in the middle of a torrential river to take a break on. She needed a life vest and she did everything she could to keep her head above the water in the ways she was shown how.

It doesn't excuse her actions or take them back. To me, it's hard for me to look at every facet of what happened and only or fully blame Jinx though. That's what she did the entire show and it was objectively not true. In another life, in different circumstances she chose differently because she was in a place to do so. They made an entire episode dedicated to this fact. To me, she was like a caged tiger trained to eat people being released into the wild and then people are mad it ate people. And shes 18.

There's not a neat way to wrap up all of this. If you don't like a character then that's your prerogative. Everyone has different interpretations of what some scenes and symbolism can mean too, but there's some blatant truths about all of these characters in the show. The only way I see some people believe their takes is to ignore the characters entirely tbh and it makes me sad. Or they need to be reminded who the characters are and rewatch the show, which I recommend because you get to watch Arcane again.