#suggestive sponge

[zippocreed501]

Joy Harmon as Lucille (The Girl)

Cool Hand Luke (1967)

I've talked about this film with others and found it strange that many couldn't remember this car washing scene. Then I realised that they had only seen it on TV, where the film has been edited for the time of day of broadcast. So beware of watching films on daytime TV. Classic cinema means nothing when faced with a suggestive soapy sponge.

[hansluvs]

close to you — itoshi s.

i burn for you, and you don't even know my name - in which you make your debut into the ton expecting to find true love, and instead catch the attention of piercing teal eyes belonging to the man you swore to never acquaint yourself with.

wc: 3.1k+ (ongoing)

tags: regency au, itoshi sae x f!reader, strangers to lovers, (eventual) mutual pining, slow burn, sae is a little shit in every universe i will die on this hill

notes: took me a few months to get back to this but here it finally is! very excited for this idea it's been fermenting in my brain for a while

masterlist | next part

Your debut into the ton was certainly an anti-climactic one. Being the youngest of your five sisters, who had all been whisked away and married by the time you were of-age, everyone's attention had already moved on from your family's matches and preyed on the newer debutantes that had come in from further districts.

However, a debut that had certainly shocked the ton was that of the oldest Itoshi brother, who was the son of the King's advisor and had been close friends with the crown prince along with his brother since they were children. The entire society had been waiting for him to pursue a marriage match since his younger brother, Rin, had tied the knot with a very fortunate debutante the previous season.

Itoshi Sae had the reputation of being quite the rake, and was notorious for never taking the same woman to bed twice. He was very easily bored, as he put it, always looking for a new source of entertainment. Which consequently swiped marriage right off the table, as words from the mamas claim he's never so much as considered it.

Yet there he is now, standing beside his mother and younger brother, nursing a glass of lemonade. His teal eyes are carefully flitting around the room, seemingly cold and calculated. You hoped they would not meet yours.

As much as the alluring man across you had piqued your interest, you were determined to achieve your one and only goal for this season: to find a love match, and ultimately decided that Itoshi Sae was certainly not the man for the job.

A gentle hand had rested on your shoulder and you turn around to find Mikage Reo, the only son of the Viscount Mikage, and your dearest friend.

"Nervous?" he asked, a cheeky grin on his charming face usually reserved for poking fun at you.

"Hardly. I find it's quite boring, you promised me more fun than this," huffing out a sigh, you take another sip from your lemonade. 

Reo lets out an amused chuckle, his eyes crinkling at the corners in the way you've always admired. You've harbored an unrequited crush on him for quite some time now, ever since their family had moved in across the street from yours and he had introduced himself with that same toothy grin he now flashed at you.

"It is uncharacteristically dull tonight, I suppose. Would you fancy a dance instead?"

Reo would have been the perfect match for you; attractive, intelligent, humorous, and not to mention from one of the most well-off families in town. You two got along well, and it was no question your shared affection for one another.

"And risk Seishiro shooting another rude remark at me? Thank you, but I'll pass."

If only he had not been in love with your older brother, Seishiro - who had returned his feelings, which you only found out this summer. Reo shoots you a scolding look, as if to warn you about someone overhearing your conversation. It was, after all, inappropriate for two men to be involved romantically within the ton.

Which was why your brother was standing a few feet away from the pair of you, a bored expression on his face as he pretended to listen to whatever Mr. Bachira was talking excitedly to him about.

Reo hurriedly scribbles down his name into your dance card then gently pulls you onto the large ballroom floor. "Don't worry about him, he's not the one making their debut. Besides, someone needs to dance with you in order to gain the attention of other suitors."

As the orchestra plays another lively tune, you scoff at your friend. "I don't need you to attract suitors! I can do that perfectly by myself, thank you very much."

"Really?" Reo smiles, lilac eyes not pointed at you but at somewhere, someone in the crowd instead. "So, do you reckon that Mr. Itoshi Sae would have noticed you had I not intervened?"

"What are you on about?"

As the pair of you turn, you finally see what Reo had meant.

Itoshi Sae, with his piercing teal eyes and indifferent expression, had been watching you move across the dance floor the entire time. Like a hawk.

The two of you meet each other's gaze and a shudder runs through you as Reo twirls you away from him. A sudden, awful feeling sinks into the pit of your stomach, and it seems that you were entirely incorrect.

This season would be far from boring, as you'd come to find out.

[lunaetis]

when it comes to physical intimacy or sexual activities, yínyuè is considered quite inexperienced. this is by no means to say that she's innocent or unaware of sexual attractions, but more on the front of her not having experienced it herself ( or if she had prior to her awakening, she had no recollection of it. ) she certainly knows about physical intimacy, of pleasure, and act of service / sexual acts as a whole, but she had never done that herself. to her, physical intimacy relates closely to trust, and for her to be desiring someone in that light would means she has developed a strong sense of trust for them.

her being inexperienced means that she'd be clumsy and awkward at first, but by no means she'd shy away from it and is actually quite a fast learner. she'd pick up cues and her partner's preference in things then follow through with her instincts. certainly a submissive lean, a pleaser and a giver in bed. she'd want her partner to feel good. it's a huge turn on for her if her partner reveals how much they want her or how good she's making them feel.

[yakny]

BRING IT DOWN TO THE WIRE! PARASITE MESSIAHS! SET THEM ALL ON FIRE! AND SCRAPE! SCRAPE! SCRAPE!

[une-sanz-pluis]

An interesting video excerpted from History Hit's documentary on the Battle of Shrewsbury discussing the treatment of the then-Prince Henry's arrow-wound.

[hiimcanadia]

Look at this little graduation gift my family got me 🥺 her coffee cup actually smells like coffee 🥺

[craig960114]

story by me (craig)

I are literature

In the quiet town of Doodleville, there lived a peculiar doodle named Craig. Craig was no ordinary sketch; he was a cat with a mission. Despite his simple appearance, Craig harbored ambitions far grander than his humble origins suggested.

From a young age, Craig possessed an insatiable curiosity and a keen intellect. While his peers contented themselves with idle doodling, Craig spent his days studying the world around him, absorbing knowledge like a sponge. He learned about history, politics, and the intricacies of human behavior, all from the confines of his paper realm.

As Craig grew older, his ambitions expanded. He yearned for something more than the confines of Doodleville. He dreamed of venturing beyond the borders of his sketchbook and making his mark on the wider world.

One fateful day, Craig's opportunity arrived in the form of a stray pencil left unattended on the edge of his page. With a mixture of determination and excitement, Craig seized the pencil and began to draw. He sketched a doorway leading out of Doodleville, and with a final flourish, he stepped through into the unknown.

The world outside was vast and full of wonders, but it was also fraught with danger. Undeterred, Craig embarked on a quest to carve out his own destiny. Along the way, he encountered a colorful cast of characters, from mischievous doodles to formidable adversaries.

Despite the challenges he faced, Craig never lost sight of his ultimate goal: to leave his mark on the world and reshape it according to his vision. With each obstacle overcome and each victory achieved, Craig grew stronger and more determined than ever before.

In the end, Craig's journey was not just about conquering the world, but about discovering his true self and realizing his full potential. As he stood atop the highest peak, surveying the realm he had conquered, Craig knew that his adventures were only just beginning. For Craig was not just a doodle; he was a legend in the making, destined for greatness beyond the confines of his paper kingdom.

[marsupials-of-mars]

It's funny how often Bill is described as a master manipulator, he's so smart that he knows what everyone is thinking and how to push their buttons.

Because he is SO BAD at manipulation!

The only reason he ever gets what he wants is because he can literally read and control minds. And historically, he is pretty shit at using what he learns in a productive way.

Every time he has a human partner, it's because they are obviously desperate for something he can provide. All he does is use the fact that he's a seemingly omniscient otherworldly being to gain ethos, and then tell them he can get them the thing they want.

These are not complicated concepts. Anyone with those inherent advantages could do that. And, historically, when the actual negotiations are up to him and he hasn't backed someone into a corner, he pretty immediately fumbles the bag.

Think of when he possessed that priest: he pitched his plans outright with zero tact and everyone in the room immediately refused and dedicated themselves to making sure he never got his way.

The pharoh DISPISED him, found him annoying and tried to banish him. The shaman caught wise pretty quick. Xgqrthx never even planned on helping him at any point. Every plan failed because of Bills own ineptitude, when all the cards were stacked in his favor!

The way he talked to Ford was disturbing and direct and entirely Bill-like. Ford was just a sponge for any flattery and happened to be into the way Bill spoke and left him rats and suggested murder because he is also abnormal.

Bill is bad at making friends, which is why he has just a few henchmaniacs he's gathered over billions of years.

People DO NOT LIKE HIM.

And he's in denial about that to an extent. He always thinks they'll be on his side once he reveals his true intentions. He always thinks they'll go for the promise of infinite power and destruction because who wouldn't?

Basically, for an immortal god who's had an unfathomably long time to practice social skills and can LITERALLY ENTER MINDS TO KNOW EXACTLY WHAT TO SAY... he's really, really bad at manipulation. And really, any sort of person to person connection.

[ecdysiscon]

due to convergent evolution as well as modern genomancy muddying the waters, it is a common misconception that the porcelain doll and the soft doll are sister taxa. In reality they are more distantly related to each other than a human is to a sponge: porcelain dolls are of course arthopods, but new research suggests that soft dolls are actually a highly-derived fungus! more samples are needed but they seem to be fairly closely related to the chytrids.

[dksfml]

what would you do if I went to touch you now? - riki

pairing: younger!nishimura riki x older!reader genre: office romance, flirty niki, workplace tension, niki teaches you japanese. summary: despite your best efforts to maintain professionalism, the undeniable tension between you and riki makes it impossible to resist the connection growing between you. it doesn't help that he calls you "noona" at work. warnings: suggestive, kissing, implied smut word count: 2.7k

your professional relationship with riki had been straightforward when he first started. quiet and shy, he took careful notes during meetings, absorbing the work culture like a sponge. as his mentor, you were tasked with guiding him through the ropes, ensuring he understood the nuances of the company.

“make sure he knows what he’s doing,” your boss had instructed, handing you the responsibility like a personal mission. and you took it seriously. riki was younger by a few years, in need of your guidance. at first, he seemed timid, his questions asked in soft tones, his posture always slightly defensive, as if afraid of stepping out of line. you naturally fell into a nurturing role, steering him whenever he seemed unsure, offering advice when necessary. but as time passed, riki's confidence grew, along with a noticeable shift in your dynamic.

it started subtly—small changes in his attitude. his work improved dramatically, and soon he was strutting around with a smirk, leaning back in his chair like he owned the place. his newfound cockiness was relentless, even though you reminded him to stay focused.

“riki,” you sighed, standing by his desk, flipping through his presentation slides. “i told you to cross-reference these with last quarter’s data. this is incomplete.”

he leaned back, arms crossed over his chest, the corner of his mouth twitching into a grin. “i was going to fix it, but i thought i’d leave some for you to correct, noona. keeps me humble.”

you narrowed your eyes, unamused. “this isn’t a game. you can’t slack off just because you’re comfortable. these clients are important, and if we don’t get this right, it’s on both of us.”

his grin faltered, but just as quickly, he masked it with a wink. “got it. i’ll fix it. but only if you promise to let me take you out for dinner when we nail this project.”

you shook your head, suppressing a smile. “this is serious. you missed an email i asked you to forward last week. and calling me ‘noona’ here at work? we need to keep this professional.”

riki straightened, the playful glint in his eyes dimming. “right,” he said, his voice softer. “i’ll keep it professional. but you can’t blame me for trying.”

you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, but deep down, you felt a rush of excitement at his boldness. “i want those revisions by the end of the day, riki. and no more flirting until this is done.”

“yes, ma’am,” he replied, a mock salute on his part, and for the first time in weeks, there was no teasing in his tone.

now, the two of you were working on a critical project, preparing a proposal for a japanese client your company was eager to sign. it wasn’t just a regular pitch; this deal was huge—a make-or-break moment that could lead to long-term collaboration. you had thrown yourself into the task, familiarizing yourself with every detail of the project. but there was one problem: the language barrier. the client preferred to communicate in japanese, and while you had learned some phrases, you were nowhere near fluent.

that’s when it struck you—riki was fluent in japanese. you recalled him casually mentioning it one afternoon, and now that you needed the skill, you struck a deal with him: he’d tutor you in japanese after work, and in return, you’d ensure his involvement in the project didn’t go unnoticed by the higher-ups. a fair exchange, strictly professional, you told yourself.

later that night, during one of your lessons, the atmosphere crackled with unspoken tension. riki sat across from you, leaning forward as you practiced reading a passage. you stumbled over a phrase, and his sharp gaze caught your mistake.

“no,” he corrected, his voice low and firm, sending shivers down your spine. “it’s nihon, not nee-hon. you’re stressing the first syllable too much.”

his tone was both authoritative and teasing, igniting a spark of mischief that made your heart race. “let’s go over that phrase again,” he said, his voice soft yet commanding. you nodded, struggling to focus, but the heat radiating from his body made it impossible to think clearly.

“try it one more time, noona,” he urged, leaning in closer, his breath brushing against your ear. the closeness sent a jolt of electricity coursing through you, and you instinctively shifted, seeking a little more space.

“um, okay,” you stammered, trying to keep your composure, but the way he looked at you—a mix of amusement and something deeper—made your cheeks flush. “i’m trying.”

riki leaned in even closer, his shoulder pressing against yours. “you’re not trying hard enough,” he teased, a smirk playing on his lips. “what’s the matter? feeling a little shy?”

“shy? no,” you protested, your voice barely above a whisper. “i just—”

“just what?” he interrupted, his gaze piercing into yours, his confidence unwavering. “can’t handle a little pressure?”

your heart raced at the challenge in his voice. “at work, i’m your superior, riki. you need to respect that.”

“respect?” he echoed, leaning back just enough to gauge your reaction. “or maybe you need to realize that i’m not the junior anymore. you’re the one who seems to struggle with that.” his eyes danced with mischief, and you felt a thrill race through you.

“riki,” you warned, but your voice faltered, unable to hide the quiver of excitement that danced beneath your words.

“tell me you’re not interested,” he challenged, leaning closer, their faces mere inches apart. the air thickened with tension, and you could feel his warmth enveloping you. “because i know you feel it too.”

before you could respond, the sudden power cut plunged the office into darkness, leaving only the dim emergency lights flickering above. your heart pounded, and the adrenaline heightened every sensation.

“well, i guess that’s the end of tonight’s lesson,” you attempted to joke, but your voice trembled, revealing your unease.

riki’s eyes glinted in the low light, a devilish grin spreading across his face. “no, we’re not done.” he leaned closer again, his hand brushing against yours, sending a wave of heat up your arm.

you pulled back slightly, heart racing. “riki, this isn’t—”

“isn’t what?” he whispered, his voice a low murmur that sent a thrill down your spine. “we both know there’s something between us.”

you opened your mouth to protest, but the urgency in his gaze silenced you. your breath hitched at the finality in his tone. the professional barrier you had carefully constructed was crumbling.

“we should go,” you muttered, fumbling to gather your things. but riki reached out, his hand brushing against yours, halting your movements.

“we could go to your place,” he suggested, his voice dangerously low. “finish the lesson there.”

the implications hung heavily between you. you met his gaze, searching for any trace of the playful riki you’d trained, the one who’d always danced around the line but never crossed it. but there was nothing playful in his expression now—only a raw intensity that made your skin prickle.

you nodded, unable to trust your voice, and within moments, you were heading out of the office together. the ride to your apartment was silent, the weight of what was about to happen sitting thick between you.

the door to your apartment clicked shut behind you, and the familiar surroundings only heightened the surreal nature of what was happening. you barely had time to turn on a light before riki was in front of you, his presence magnetic. the silence between you was thick with everything left unsaid, but his gaze—intense, burning—spoke volumes.

for a moment, neither of you moved, both caught in the tension that had been building for weeks. his eyes swept over your face, lingering on your lips as if contemplating his next move. you stood your ground, refusing to back away even as your pulse raced in anticipation.

“you’re still thinking about work, aren’t you?” his voice was low, teasing. he stepped closer, just close enough that the warmth of his body radiated through the space between you. “always so professional, noona.”

you swallowed, feeling the flutter of nerves in your stomach. “someone has to keep things in check,” you replied, though your voice faltered just slightly, betraying the tug of desire that made your skin prickle with anticipation.

he chuckled, soft and deep. “maybe it’s time you stopped thinking for once.”

before you could react, his hand slid up your arm, fingers curling gently around the nape of your neck as he pulled you toward him. his lips met yours in a kiss that was far from the playful teasing you were used to. it was hungry, intense, like he had been waiting for this moment as long as you had. the taste of him was intoxicating, and before you realized it, you were kissing him back with just as much need.

your back hit the wall softly as his body pressed into yours, every inch of him enveloping you, filling the space around you. his hands trailed down your sides, fingers ghosting over the fabric of your blouse before dipping under the hem, finding bare skin.

“riki,” you whispered, breaking the kiss for a breath, but your voice was breathless, needy. his name left your lips like a confession.

his lips barely left yours as he responded, his voice a raspy whisper. “you keep acting like you’re in control, noona,” he murmured against your skin, his hands now slipping around your waist, pulling you even closer. “but i don’t think you are anymore.”

the challenge in his voice made something inside you snap. you wanted to respond, to assert yourself as you always had, but the heat between you was overwhelming, and before you could muster a reply, his lips were on your neck, pressing soft, hot kisses along your skin that left you trembling.

“i’m not the kid you used to boss around,” he murmured between kisses, his breath warm against your ear. “you can’t keep treating me like i don’t know what i’m doing.”

his hands slid lower, and you gasped as his touch became more insistent, his fingers deftly working to unbutton your blouse. his lips returned to yours, and this time, the kiss was slower, deeper, as if he wanted to savor every second. there was nothing hurried about the way his hands roamed your body, exploring with a confidence that made your head spin.

you tugged at his shirt, pulling it over his head in one swift motion, your fingertips brushing over the smooth lines of his chest. he was handsome, undeniably so, but up close like this—underneath the layers of work clothes and the carefully constructed professionalism—he was breathtaking. your hands trailed over his skin, feeling the tautness of his muscles, the way his breath hitched slightly as you touched him.

he grinned against your lips as you pressed your body into his, feeling the hardness of his form against you. “see?” he whispered, his voice rough with desire. “you can’t even resist me now, noona.”

you wanted to argue, to assert your authority as you always had, but the way he looked at you—like he knew exactly how to unravel you—left you powerless.

his hands made quick work of the rest of your clothes, every movement deliberate, controlled. he was no longer the shy, uncertain junior you had once guided. here, in the dim light of your apartment, riki was commanding, confident, and he knew exactly what he was doing.

he lifted you effortlessly, carrying you to the bedroom, laying you down with a gentleness that contrasted with the heat of the moment. and then he was over you, his hands exploring, his lips trailing over your skin in ways that made your breath hitch. you responded in kind, your fingers digging into his back, pulling him closer, needing him closer.

when his mouth found yours again, it was softer this time, but no less intense. his touch was slow, deliberate, as if he wanted to memorize every inch of your body, every gasp and shiver he elicited. you couldn’t help the sounds that escaped you, soft whimpers that only seemed to spur him on.

“don’t think just because i’m calling you ‘noona’ that i’ll let you keep this up,” he teased, his lips brushing against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “you’re not the only one who can take charge.”

the air between you was charged with desire, thick with the tension that had been simmering for so long. every touch, every breath shared between you was electric, sending waves of pleasure rippling through your body. you had never imagined this—being here, with him, in this way—but now that you were, there was no going back.

and when he finally claimed you, when the last barriers between you fell away, it was like everything else disappeared. there was no work, no professionalism, no rules—just you and him, bodies moving together in perfect sync, lost in the heat of the moment.

the world outside faded into oblivion, and all that remained was the sound of your mingled breaths, the feeling of his skin against yours, the way he made you feel as though you were the only two people who mattered.

and in that moment, nothing else did.

“i still do want to take you on a dinner date though," riki said, breaking the silence with a light-hearted lilt that hung in the air like a sweet melody.

you pulled back slightly, your eyes searching his, as if seeking confirmation that this wasn’t just a fleeting fantasy. “really?” the question slipped out before you could hold it back, a mix of surprise and delight dancing in your voice.

“yeah, really,” he replied, his smile growing wider. “just you and me. somewhere nice. maybe italian? i hear they have the best pasta in town.”

his words wrapped around you like a warm embrace, grounding you in the moment. you could feel your heart quicken, the anticipation stirring something deep within you. “that sounds perfect. when do you want to go?”

“how about friday?” he suggested, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “i’ll even let you choose the place.”

a laugh escaped your lips, the sound light and airy. “i hope you’re ready for my pick then. i might take you to the best italian place in town, and you’ll be regretting it the next day.”

riki chuckled, the warmth of his laughter making your heart flutter. “i’ll take that risk. besides, i have a feeling it’ll be worth it.”

in that moment, as the soft glow of the streetlights seeped through the window, you felt the weight of the week lift, replaced by the promise of something beautiful on the horizon. but just as the excitement began to settle in, you were pulled back to reality by the sound of your phone vibrating against the table, a harsh reminder of the world outside this blissful bubble.

you glanced at the screen, and the moment slipped slightly, the glow of notifications flickering like an unwelcome reminder. it was a message from a friend, checking in about the weekend plans.

“sorry, i should probably—” you started, but riki gently took your hand, grounding you again.

“hey,” he said softly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “you can always reply later. right now, let’s focus on us.”

you looked back at him, the connection reigniting. the moment stretched out like an unbroken thread between you, the world beyond the walls of this room fading once more into insignificance. you nodded, your heart soaring as you settled back into the warmth of his gaze, the future bright and inviting.

“so, friday it is?” you confirmed, your voice steady and full of excitement.

“definitely,” riki replied, a grin breaking across his face, as if he had just won a victory.

and just like that, the evening unfolded around you, a delicate balance of playful teasing and soft confessions, a new chapter beginning to write itself in the quiet spaces between your laughter.

[sabertoothwalrus]

whats tiger tiger? i know its a webcomic but like whats the genre/basic plot blurb and/or summary? it sounds really interesting!

I already typed up this summary on a different post:

it’s about a girl who steals her twin brother’s entire ship and crew so she can travel the world to study sea sponges. it has really cool worldbuilding and religion, and utilizes paleontology in its creature design. I’d highly recommend it to anyone that likes dungeon meshi!!

it’s also incredibly bisexual and even has an eldritch demon of chaos who is a tits-out nonbinary lesbian sometimes.

here are some out-of-context snippets to give you a taste...

You can read it here, but the first volume is also available as a physical copy! It is ongoing, and currently in the middle of it's third (and final?) volume.

WARNING it does have very minor nudity and some suggestive themes. I always forget to mention that before recommending it to people dkjfhgfjd

[zhukzucraft]

=====>

You absorb the information like a sponge, grateful for Scott and Cleo's tendency to gossip.

It seems like they don't know where your friends are and haven't found the Bastion yet. But on the other hand they are stocked on food and appear to have allies (soulmates?) helping them in the Overworld. This could give them a leg up in the race for the Enchanter. You need to gauge your team's chances. Could Gaslight and Gatekeep have diamond gear already?..

You debate changing positions to get a glimpse of their equipment from a better hiding place, when-

Oh shoot! A cosmic coin is flipped and the results are not in your favour.

Cleo: ...

Cleo: Wow, speaking of having faith in people - hiiii Pearl!

Cleo: What are you doing crouched behind that tree?

Scott: Ah. Now this is a smidge awkward.

Scott: Can we help you, Pearl?

You have confirmed one thing at least: they do indeed have diamonds.

Now what?

[THIS IS A QUICK TIME EVENT! Pearl is fumbling for what to do, so it's your job to help. Comment or send in asks with your suggestions, and one will be chosen on the 25th at random]

=====>

Start Over -- Go Back

[aspenmissing]

ᴀʀᴄᴀɴᴇ: ʙᴀᴛʜʀᴏᴏᴍ ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛꜱ

ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴠɪᴋ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ᴊɪɴx || ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ/ᴄᴏᴍꜰᴏʀᴛ||

5985 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ || ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ɴᴜᴅɪᴛʏ (ɴᴏ ɴᴜᴅɪᴛʏ ɪɴ ᴘᴏᴡᴅᴇʀ'ꜱ ᴘᴀʀᴛ. ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏ ᴅᴇᴛᴀɪʟ) , ᴏᴏᴄ ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ᴄᴜᴛᴇ ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛꜱ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴏᴜʀ ʟᴏᴠᴇʟʏ ᴍᴇɴ ᴀɴᴅ 'ᴍᴜꜱᴛ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ ᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛ' ᴅᴀᴜɢʜᴛᴇʀ ɪɴᴠᴏʟᴠɪɴɢ ꜱʜᴏᴡᴇʀꜱ, ʙᴀᴛʜꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ʟᴏɴɢ - ɪɴᴄʀᴇᴅɪʙʟʏ ʜᴀʀᴅ ᴛᴏ ʙʀᴜꜱʜ - ʜᴀɪʀ.

ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ᴘᴏᴡᴅᴇʀ/ᴊɪɴx

JAYCE

The evening at the workshop in their apartment had been a whirlwind of calculations, late-night tinkering, and discoveries. Jayce sat at his workbench, weary but content with the progress he'd made. You had been there all day, by his side, offering quiet support, and now the sounds of the workshop had quieted down.

"How about a break?" you suggested, stretching slightly, your voice soft and soothing.

Jayce paused, looking up from his work, his eyes meeting yours. There was a weariness in his gaze, but also a quiet appreciation. "Sounds perfect," he said, his voice low but filled with gratitude.

Without another word, the two of you made your way out of the workshop, Jayce trailing slowly behind you to the bathroom, the familiar scent of metal and oil from the workshop lingered faintly, but it quickly gave way to the soft steam as the shower was turned on.

The two of you, both covered in the day's grime and sweat, quickly shed your clothes, stepping into the shower together. The warm water felt like a release from the weight of the day. Jayce stood just behind you, letting the water pour over his shoulders as you reached for the body wash.

"Let me take care of you first," you said softly, your hands gently lathering up the sponge.

You moved behind him, slowly running your hands over his back. The warmth of your fingers against his skin was both soothing and intimate, each motion a silent expression of how much you cared for him. The tension in his muscles began to melt away under your touch, and Jayce let out a quiet sigh of relief.

"That feels amazing," he murmured, his voice thick with relaxation.

You smiled, pleased to see him unwind under your touch. "You deserve it."

After a few moments, Jayce turned to face you, his eyes warm with appreciation. "Your turn," he said, his voice gentle but insistent. He squeezed a bit of body wash into his hands, his fingers gliding over your skin as he began to wash your back. His touch was tender, each motion slow and deliberate, making sure to be gentle, knowing how hard you worked and how much you needed this time to unwind.

His hands moved with care, massaging away the tension in your back. It felt so calming, so loving, that you couldn't help but close your eyes and lean into his touch.

"You're so gentle," you whispered, the warmth of his hands sending a soft shiver down your spine. "I never want this moment to end."

Jayce smiled softly, his gaze tender as he continued to massage your back. "I’ll always take care of you," he replied quietly, his voice full of sincerity. "You deserve nothing less."

As he finished, his hands lingered on your shoulders, pulling you gently into his arms. He pressed his chest against your back, his body warm against yours. You could feel his heartbeat thumping softly against you, and it brought a sense of peace and closeness.

Jayce's lips found the back of your neck, his kisses soft and slow, almost as if he were savouring the moment. He placed another gentle kiss on your skin, moving up to your shoulder, before pulling you even closer, wrapping his arms around you in a warm embrace.

"I love you," he whispered against your neck, his breath warm against your skin. "I just want to hold you like this forever."

You smiled, turning slightly in his arms so you could meet his gaze. "I love you too, Jayce. And please don't ever let me go."

With your arms around each other, standing beneath the warm shower, you both stayed there, savouring the quiet intimacy of the moment. No words were needed as you held each other close, surrounded by the warmth of the water and the even warmer connection between you.

VIKTOR

The evening at the workshop had been filled with quiet determination. Viktor, as always, had been hunched over his workbench, lost in the intricacies of his projects. His cane was propped up beside him, his brace still firmly in place. The toll of his condition had been ever-present, but there was a softness in the way he moved, an acknowledgment of the little things that made life more bearable—like having you by his side.

You had been working alongside him, but now, as the day wound down, you could see how worn out he was. His movements were slower than usual, his body clearly aching from long hours at the bench. You walked over to him, offering a small smile as you gently touched his shoulder.

"Viktor," you said softly, "how about a break? A nice shower? You look like you could use one."

Viktor looked up, the usual spark in his eyes dimmed slightly by exhaustion, but he returned your smile. "I suppose I could use a bit of relaxation," he admitted, though there was a slight hesitation in his voice. He’d never been one to ask for help, but with you, he allowed himself to let down his guard.

You helped him to his feet, steadying him as he leaned on his cane. His movements were deliberate, slow, but there was still that same sharp intelligence in his eyes, even as the pain of his condition settled in. Together, you made your way to the small, private bathroom attached to the workshop, where you had set up a little corner of comfort for moments like these.

The shower was already steaming by the time you arrived, and Viktor gave a small, tired laugh as he looked at the stool that was positioned under the warm spray.

"Only you would think to have a stool in the shower," he teased, his voice light despite the heaviness of his body. "You really do know me."

You smiled, nodding as you helped him to sit down. "I just want to make sure you're comfortable," you replied, your voice tender and caring.

As Viktor settled onto the stool, you carefully removed his leg brace, setting it aside before doing the same with his back brace, both actions performed with practiced ease. He leaned slightly into you as you worked, his body grateful for the moment of relief. The small stool provided him the perfect support as he sat under the warm spray of the shower, his cane resting securely against the wall outside.

You adjusted the temperature of the water just right, the steam enveloping the space, and you took a deep breath, the air smelling of soap and the comfort of home. As you reached for the shampoo, a soft, familiar tune began to hum from your lips, the melody gentle and soothing. It was a song you often hummed to calm yourself and, now, Viktor as well. Your fingers worked through Viktor’s hair with a tender, practiced touch, massaging the shampoo into his scalp.

Viktor leaned back slightly, closing his eyes, the weight of the day starting to lift from his body as your soft humming surrounded him. His mind, always filled with thoughts, slowed for a moment as he allowed himself to simply be, his body grateful for the care you were giving him.

The hum continued, filling the space with a peaceful warmth. Viktor’s accented voice, thoughtful as always, broke the silence. "You know, I don’t think I’ve ever told you how much I appreciate these small moments," he murmured, his words trailing off as he relaxed further under your touch.

You continued humming, your fingers gently working through his hair, never faltering in your attention to him. "You don't need to," you replied quietly, your voice soft and loving. "I do this because I want to. You deserve this care, Viktor."

His lips curved into a small, tired smile as he let the sound of your humming wash over him. "You make the world feel a little less heavy," he whispered, the emotion in his voice barely masked by his usual calm demeanour. "Even in these quiet moments... I feel like I can breathe."

The two of you shared the quiet intimacy of the moment, the sound of water and your humming blending together, creating a peaceful lull that allowed Viktor to release the tensions of the day.

His breathing slowed, but his mind, as always, was racing. "You know, I've been thinking," he began, his voice soft but filled with the familiar depth of his thoughts.

You let out a light laugh, your fingers continuing to massage his scalp with gentle care. "Of course you have," you replied with a playful tone.

Viktor shook his head lightly at your response, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips, as he continues, "The future is... well, uncertain. So much can change in an instant. But with you, it feels... more steady. Like I can trust in something beyond all the... calculations and equations."

You smiled, his words both soothing and touching. "I trust you, Viktor. You’ve brought so much to this world already. You’re brilliant. And, more than that... you’re kind. That’s what matters."

His lips quirked into a smile, though he didn't open his eyes. "I don't know about all that," he murmured. "But I appreciate your faith in me." He shifted slightly, his hand gripping the edge of the stool. "I’m just... trying to do something worthwhile before it’s too late."

You continued massaging the shampoo into his scalp, your fingers moving carefully, soothingly, as he rambled on, lost in his thoughts. "Do you ever stop thinking, Viktor?" you asked playfully, your voice light.

Viktor chuckled, though it was a sound full of weariness. "No, I suppose not. I could do with a bit more silence sometimes. But then again, I wouldn’t be here without my mind always racing. I suppose it’s a gift and a curse."

You rinsed the shampoo from his hair, your hands gently running through the strands to ensure they were clean. Viktor let out a sigh of relief, his shoulders relaxing under your touch.

"Thank you," he said quietly. "For being patient with me... for everything."

You smiled, moving to grab the conditioner, but Viktor’s hand reached up, lightly brushing your wrist. "Let me," he said, his voice soft yet insistent.

You hesitated but then nodded, allowing him to take the bottle from your hand. Viktor applied the conditioner to his hair with steady hands, still talking, as his mind never seemed to slow.

"You know, I’ve been thinking about the long term... If I could ever fix things, if I could somehow regain what I’ve lost..." His voice trailed off, but you could hear the weight behind his words. "I’m afraid, sometimes. But then I remember... you’re here. And that thought alone makes everything feel... less daunting."

You leaned in, your lips brushing gently against his temple. "I’ll always be here, Viktor. You don’t have to face anything alone."

He smiled softly, his heart full of affection as you finished rinsing his hair. When you were done, Viktor leaned back slightly, taking a deep breath. Then, in a rare moment of vulnerability, he reached for you, his arms wrapping gently around your waist, pulling his face to your stomach.

"Thank you for being my anchor," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "For being here, even when I’m at my most... complex."

You gently wrapped your arms around his head, brushing a few stray locks of hair back from his ear as you smiled down at him. "You’re my anchor too, Viktor," you said softly, your voice filled with warmth. "We’re in this together, no matter what."

And there, in the small, steam-filled bathroom, the two of you stayed close, the warmth of the shower and the soft sound of water surrounding you. Viktor, despite his struggles, found solace in your presence—just as you found peace in being with him.

JAYVIK

The warm water cascaded down, filling the small bathroom with the comforting sound of a steady shower. The steam curled around you and Viktor, who sat on the small stool beneath the gentle spray, his cane resting against the wall outside. You were seated on the shower floor, sat between VIktor's legs and your head tilted back as Viktor carefully washed your hair.

A soft laugh escaped you as you continued telling Viktor the story. "So, I heard this one from a friend the other day," you said, the sound of your voice light and playful. "A woman walked into a bakery and asked for a dozen donuts. The baker, seeing she was holding a massive bag of flour, said, 'You sure you need all of those? You're already carrying a whole bakery with you!'"

Viktor’s lips curled slightly in amusement as he gently massaged shampoo into your hair, his touch careful and methodical. "I take it your friend isn’t lacking for wit," he remarked, his voice carrying the faintest hint of a smile.

You chuckled, feeling the warmth of the moment. "Oh, no, she’s always full of them. It's a bit dangerous, actually. You never know when she’ll throw out some ridiculous one-liner."

Viktor hummed in response, his hands continuing to work through your hair with a soft, practiced rhythm. "It’s good to have people like that around. Keeps things interesting."

"Definitely," you agreed, your smile widening. "Life's way too serious if you don’t have some humor."

Just as Viktor was rinsing out the shampoo, you heard a soft sound from the bathroom door—one that grew louder as footsteps approached.

"Hey! What about me?!" came a familiar voice, one that immediately made you smile.

Jayce appeared in the doorway, his arms crossed and a pout on his face. His gaze flicked between you and Viktor, clearly unimpressed. "You two just couldn’t wait to start the fun without me, huh? You’re lucky I’m not offended."

You rolled your eyes, unable to suppress a grin. "Oh, stop whining, Jayce. It’s just a shower," you teased. "You could have joined us anytime."

Suddenly, Jayce shot you a cheeky grin, his mischievous spark lighting up his face. And before you could even question his look, Jayce strips off his shirt and pants with a dramatic flair, sending a wink your way. He stepped into the shower and immediately nudged you playfully. "Scoot a boot," he said, making a motion with his hand as he settled behind you. "Make some room. I'm coming in."

With a teasing groan, you shuffled a bit, sitting up as Jayce comfortably slid in behind you, his legs folding on either side of you. He took your space between Viktor's legs, and before you knew it, you were nestled between him, your back against his chest and his arms wrapped around your waist.

Viktor raised an amused eyebrow but didn’t comment. "Well, since I’ve already taken care of Y/N," he said with a smirk, "I suppose it’s only fair I wash Jayce’s hair now." He gave a small, dry chuckle as he grabbed the shampoo and positioned himself behind Jayce.

Jayce, seemingly comfortable in his new position, chuckled lightly. "Hey, don’t mess it up, Viktor. I’m trusting you with this precious mane."

You snickered at his words but then found yourself leaning back more, trying to relax in the little space between them. The warmth of the shower enveloped all three of you as Viktor began to gently work the shampoo through Jayce’s hair. Jayce let out a contented sigh as Viktor’s fingers worked their magic.

You, not one to let silence take over, continued to ramble away. "You know, I was thinking the other day about something odd, but funny. Do you think animals have favorite foods, or do they just eat whatever’s in front of them? Like... if a dog was given a steak and a peanut butter sandwich, would it know the difference?"

Jayce let out a small laugh. "Knowing you, you probably spent a good amount of time pondering that, huh?"

"I mean, if you think about it, it’s a weird question," you replied, smiling at the absurdity of your own thoughts. "It’s like they don’t have taste buds the way we do, but maybe they have their own version of favorites?"

Viktor, continuing to rinse Jayce’s hair, gave a quiet chuckle at your musings. "I imagine they must. Though I highly doubt a dog is contemplating its culinary choices the same way you do."

Jayce grinned and playfully nudged you. "Yeah, we’re the ones complicating things here. Dogs? They’re just living their best life, getting treats whenever they please."

As Viktor finished massaging the last of the shampoo through Jayce’s hair, you sighed contentedly, completely at peace in the quiet, shared moment between the three of you. The sound of water was soothing, and despite the playful bickering and light teasing, there was a warmth to the atmosphere—a deep comfort in being with them.

It was moments like this that made everything else fade away, the world outside of the bathroom no longer mattering. In this space, there was only the three of you—together.

VANDER

Vander had spent the evening closing up The Last Drop, ensuring everything was locked up tight for the night. As the kids settled into bed, he couldn’t help but glance over at you, swaying gently on your barstool, a grin plastered on your face as you giggled at something only you seemed to find amusing. It was clear you had indulged in more than a couple of drinks tonight, your words slurring and your movements a little too carefree.

He chuckled softly to himself, a warm, affectionate smile crossing his features. "Alright, love," he said, his deep voice filled with amusement, "let's get you upstairs, huh?"

You turned your head to him with wide, slightly unfocused eyes, your lips curling into a grin. "Vander," you said, your voice teasing and dreamy, "you know you’re my favorite, right? I mean, who else would take care of me like you do?"

He raised an eyebrow, helping you steady yourself as you tried to stand. "I’m your favorite? And here I thought it was Powder," he teased as he gently guided you toward the stairs.

You shook your head, stumbling a little as you leaned against him for support. "Nope, it’s you. You’re big and strong, and you’re always so... so calm. Like, you have this thing about you," you said, waving your hands around as if the words were escaping you in a wave of giggles.

Vander simply chuckled, leading you into your shared room and gently sitting you on the bed for a moment. He couldn't help but smile at your antics, shaking his head. "Alright, let’s get you cleaned up before you start singing the praises of my muscles or something," he said, already pulling your shoes off and gently tugging at your clothes.

You giggled again, clearly delighted by the whole situation. "Oh, I think I’d rather... rather see you flex those muscles," you said, your words slurring more as you spoke. Vander gave a soft laugh, amused but not bothered, before he undressed you slowly, making sure not to rush it, even if you were far from steady on your feet.

He helped you stand, guiding you toward the ensuite bathroom, where the warm steam from the shower already filled the air. He turned the water on, adjusting it to just the right temperature, and as you stumbled a bit, he placed a steadying hand on your back. "Alright, love, sit down for me," he instructed gently, leading you to the bathtub.

You plopped down into the tub with a small huff, the cool porcelain against your skin bringing you back to reality just a bit. "You’re so nice to me, Vander," you mumbled, your voice still a little distant as your eyes tried to focus on him.

Vander rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, then reached for the showerhead. He kept a soft smile on his face as he kneeled beside you, the warm water cascading over your hair. He grabbed the shampoo bottle and, as the water splashed against your skin, he gently began to lather it into your hair. "I’m just doing my job, love," he said in a soothing tone. "Taking care of you, like always."

You tilted your head back, your gaze unfocused but somehow full of affection. "You’re the best," you said softly, as if it were a secret between the two of you. "I love how you never... never get mad at me."

Vander chuckled, his hands gently massaging your scalp as he worked the shampoo in. "Well, someone’s got to be the calm one around here," he teased, his fingers working through your hair with a tenderness that came naturally to him. He glanced up, his eyes soft and amused as he watched you relax, the alcohol starting to take a back seat to the comfort of his presence.

"Do you know what I think?" you suddenly said, your words slipping out in a half-ramble. "I think... I think you should wear more shirts like that. You look so... handsome."

Vander’s lips curved into a smirk, unable to resist the warmth in your tone. "You’re a bit tipsy, aren’t you?" he teased lightly, but he couldn’t hide the fondness in his voice.

You smiled dreamily, nodding. "Just a little," you said, leaning back into the tub, your head cradled by the warm water as it rinsed away the soap. "But I still love you."

He smiled back at you, his hands tenderly rinsing your hair. "I love you too, more than you know," he replied, his voice full of quiet affection. He continued washing your hair, the warm water cascading over your skin as he patiently humoured your nonsensical ramblings. It wasn’t a perfect night, but it was a peaceful one, and as long as you were with him, that was all that mattered.

SILCO

The soft flicker of candlelight cast delicate shadows across the room, its warm glow mingling with the sweet scent of lavender and rose petals. The classical music that filled the air was gentle and soothing, wrapping around the room like a soft embrace. You lay in the bathtub, bubbles up to your chin, head tilted back, eyes closed in perfect relaxation. The warm water swirled around you, and every inch of your body seemed to melt into the comfort of the bath. It was a rare moment of peace, and you savored every second of it.

The door creaked softly as it opened, and you heard Silco’s voice calling your name, a hint of amusement in it. "Y/N?"

You hummed in response, too relaxed to speak, your eyes still closed. There was a small pause before the sound of footsteps filled the room. Silco stepped inside, his figure dark against the soft candlelight, his jacket and gloves absent, leaving him only in his dress pants and waistcoat. His sharp eyes scanned the scene in front of him—your form resting in the bath, the flickering candles casting a soft glow on your skin, and the air filled with the calm melody of the classical music.

Silco’s lips curled into a small smile as he chuckled lightly. "I see you’ve made yourself quite comfortable," he said, his voice soft and amused.

You opened your eyes slowly, your smile warm as you saw him standing there. "Just thought I’d indulge a little," you replied, your voice airy, still wrapped in the relaxation of the moment. "It’s been a long day."

He walked over and lowered himself to sit cross-legged on the floor beside you, his waistcoat wrinkling slightly as he settled. His eyes lingered on you, a soft intensity in them as he took in the sight of you so peaceful, so serene. "I can see that. But," he mused, voice almost teasing, "you didn’t wait for me to join you?"

You tilted your head slightly, a playful glint in your eyes as you met his gaze. "I figured you were busy," you teased, your fingers absently tracing the surface of the water. "But now that you’re here, I’m sure I could make room for you."

Silco raised an eyebrow at your playful tone, a half-smirk tugging at his lips. "You always do find a way to get me involved," he said, though there was warmth in his voice, something softer than his usual cool detachment. "But I don’t think I’d fit in here as well as you do."

You chuckled softly. "Maybe not, but you’d look dashing regardless."

He let out a quiet laugh, leaning back slightly as his eyes lingered on the scene, the soft glow of the candles reflecting in his gaze. "I doubt the water would stay as pristine as it is with me in it," he said, voice still warm but filled with that signature dry humor.

"True," you said with a melodic laugh. "But it would be worth it just to see you try."

The two of you settled into a comfortable silence, the soft sounds of the music and the flickering candlelight filling the space between your quiet exchanges. You allowed your head to tilt back again, eyes closed, the warmth of the water easing away the tension in your body. Silco’s presence beside you was grounding, and the intimacy of the moment wrapped around you both.

After a few moments, Silco spoke again, his voice more thoughtful this time. "You know," he began, eyes glinting slightly, "you’ve always been a bit of an enigma to me. Always calm, collected... yet I can see how easily you lose yourself in moments like this." He glanced over at you, his gaze softening as he continued. "I never really understood it until now. But perhaps... it’s not so bad. Seeing you like this."

You met his gaze, a quiet understanding settling in. "It’s important, I think," you said softly, your voice almost a whisper as you traced your fingers through the bubbles, "to find peace where we can, even in a world like ours."

Silco didn’t speak immediately, his gaze distant as he processed your words. The quiet of the room wrapped around you, and for the first time, it felt as if you were both suspended in time, the outside world far away. After a long pause, Silco spoke again, his voice quieter than before. "Perhaps I’ve spent too long trying to control everything around me," he murmured, his tone softer, more vulnerable than usual. "I’ve forgotten what it feels like to simply be still."

You smiled gently, your hand resting on the edge of the tub. "You’ve always been still in your own way," you said quietly. "Even in the chaos. You just don’t notice it."

Silco’s lips twitched slightly, his sharp gaze turning to you with something softer behind it. "I think you’ve always known how to calm me," he admitted, his voice a little raspier, a touch of sincerity in it. "It’s an odd thing, isn’t it? You make me feel like I could breathe for the first time in years."

The classical music played on, its soft strings almost like a lullaby now, filling the room with an air of serenity. Silco shifted again, sitting a little closer, his gaze never leaving you. "Perhaps we should make moments like this a regular occurrence," he said, his voice softer than it had been when he entered. "I’m beginning to understand their value."

You nodded, a sense of contentment settling over you as you gazed at him. "I’d like that," you said softly. "A little stillness every now and then... it’s something we both deserve."

Silco’s lips parted just slightly, a rare, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "You always know just what to say."

You chuckled lightly, the sound of it warm and carefree, before sinking deeper into the tub, letting the water soothe you further. "I’ve had practice."

As the minutes passed, the two of you remained in your quiet corner of the world, the flickering candles, soft music, and your peaceful conversation surrounding you both. It was a fleeting moment of calm, but in that moment, nothing else seemed to matter.

POWDER/JINX (PLATONIC!)

Jinx sat in the bathroom, staring at her reflection in the mirror with a deep scowl etched across her face. Her once vibrant blue hair, now a tangled mess, fell around her shoulders in wild strands. She held the brush in her hands, staring at it as if it might magically fix the knots in her hair. She gave it another try, attempting to work through the tangles, but each tug only seemed to make things worse. Frustration built up in her chest as she gritted her teeth, her hands trembling slightly from the effort. The more she tried, the more helpless she felt, and soon enough, she simply gave up, slumping back against the chair, her eyes narrowed in frustration as she stared at her reflection.

"Ugh, stupid hair!" she muttered under her breath, glaring at the brush like it had personally wronged her. She groaned loudly and dropped it onto the floor, arms crossing over her chest in defeat. “Why does it have to be so damn complicated?”

Her blue locks now lay in a chaotic heap around her, making her look even more disheveled than usual. Jinx sighed deeply and kicked the sink cupboard in irritation, eyes dropping to the scattered hairbrushes and combs in front of her.

As she sat there, wallowing in frustration, she didn't hear the soft knock on her door.

"Jinx?" came a gentle voice, warm and familiar.

Jinx’s head shot up, her eyes brightening for a second before she wiped her expression clean of irritation. "Oh, uh... come in!" she called out, trying to sound like everything was fine, though her frustration still lingered in her tone.

The door creaked open, and there you stood in the doorway, peeking inside with a gentle smile. Your eyes immediately locked onto her tangled mess of hair. “I heard some pretty dramatic groaning from in here,” you said, stepping into the room and raising an eyebrow. “What’s going on, kiddo?”

Jinx slumped back into her chair, groaning again. "This stupid hair... I washed it, but now it’s all knotted and I can’t get it to brush out. It’s like it hates me."

You smiled softly at her, walking over to kneel beside her. You ran your fingers through the strands, noting how thick and soft her hair was, despite the tangles. "I see," you said, eyes full of understanding. "That can be a pain. I remember when I used to struggle with that too."

Jinx shot you a skeptical look, but there was a soft curiosity in her eyes now. "You? Struggle with hair?" She raised an eyebrow. "I can’t even imagine you having problems with your hair."

You laughed gently, a quiet, soothing sound that seemed to settle her just a little. “Oh, trust me, it wasn’t always this easy. I had my fair share of knots and tangles when I was growing up. In fact..." You paused, glancing down at the mess of blue hair in front of you. “My mother used to help me when I couldn’t get mine untangled. And let me tell you, she was a master at it. She taught me all the tricks.”

Jinx’s eyes softened slightly at the mention of your mother. You had often spoken of her with fondness, telling stories of the care she took in raising you. For a moment, Jinx felt a pang in her chest—something she hadn’t quite felt before. That warmth, that connection. She’d never had that kind of maternal guidance, but she liked hearing your stories.

"How’d she help you?" Jinx asked, her voice softer than before.

You smiled and gently took the brush from her hand, running it through the strands of her hair with practiced ease. "First, she taught me that you’ve got to be patient with it," you said, your voice calm and comforting. "You can’t rush. You take your time, work through the tangles slowly, and remember to be gentle. Like this."

As you carefully started brushing through the knots, you noticed Jinx’s body slowly relaxing, her posture softening under your gentle care. In the reflection of the mirror, you could see her eyes following your every move. Every now and then, your own gaze flickered to hers in the mirror, catching her watching you with a look that was part curiosity, part trust.

"You’re really good at this," Jinx commented, the tension in her voice melting away as you worked through the last of the knots.

You chuckled softly. “It’s not just about the brushing. You’ve got to keep the hair untangled as you go. Otherwise, it just gets worse. And once you’ve got the tangles out, you can do fun things with it—like braids."

"Braids?" Jinx repeated the word, her eyes lighting up with curiosity. “Like... the cool ones you see in the old books?”

“Exactly,” you said, smiling as you finished brushing her hair. You gently separated the strands into sections and began braiding them, guiding Jinx through each step slowly. "My mom used to tell me stories while she braided my hair. She said that braids could help protect your hair, make it stronger. And she always said braids were a sign of care—when someone takes the time to braid your hair, it means they care about you."

Jinx looked down at your hands, her expression thoughtful. In the mirror, she caught a glimpse of the way your fingers worked through her hair, the gentleness of your touch, and the care in your movements. “I... I think I’d like that. To have my hair done like that. Maybe it’s not so bad, this hair thing.” She shifted in her seat, and you saw the faintest hint of a smile tugging at her lips in the reflection.

You continued braiding, the room quiet save for the soft classical music filling the space, the gentle rhythm of your hands working with the hair like a lullaby. "You know, my mom also told me that hair carries memories. It’s like every braid, every knot, tells a story,” you said, your voice soft. “It’s funny—now, every time I look at my hair, I can almost hear her telling me stories of when I was little. Things she used to do when I was upset.”

Jinx looked at you through the reflection of the mirror, her fingers absently playing with the edge of her sleeve. “What kind of stories?” she asked, genuinely intrigued.

You smiled and finished the braid, gently running your fingers through it. “Oh, all kinds. She’d tell me about how she’d help her own mother with her hair, and how they’d talk about everything. About life, about what it meant to be strong even when things felt impossible. She’d say that no matter how tough it got, you always had to keep going, because you never know when something beautiful might come out of it.” You paused for a moment, glancing at Jinx in the mirror. "It made me feel like I wasn’t alone. Like, no matter what, she was always there."

Jinx’s eyes seemed to soften, and for a brief second, her usual wild energy was replaced with something quieter, more tender. “I never had that,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “I always had to do things myself.”

You smiled at her reflection, brushing a lock of hair away from her face. "You don't have to do everything alone, Jinx. Not anymore."

Jinx blinked, her eyes bright with a mix of emotion she wasn’t sure how to process. But in that moment, the two of you shared something unspoken, a bond of care and understanding that transcended everything else.

The braid, now finished, lay perfectly in her hair, and you gently tugged it, just enough to show it off. “There we go,” you said with a soft smile. “Now you’re ready to take on the world, Powder.”

She looked in the mirror, at her reflection, and a small, genuine smile tugged at her lips for the first time in a long while. “Thanks, Y/N. This... feels nice. Maybe I’ll keep it like this. You know... like how you used to do.”

You smiled back, happy to see that small spark of joy in her eyes. "Anytime, kiddo. Anytime.

[lilacs-stars]

moon + tides

this is part 1, read part 2 here! pairing: james hook x fem!reader (requested) SUMMARY: you, ariel's daughter, find yourself in a strange relationship with the one and only infamous pirate captain, who's absolutely obsessed with you GENRE: yandere, a bit of angst, some comforting fluff here and there, especially at the end CW: a few mentions of violence, someone walking a plank, mentions of drowning, some suggestive material, nothing too graphic though WC: 4.2k

A/N: this req was really fun to write! I might have gotten a bit carried away, heh...this part includes the backstory of how you two got together and the first part of the req, and the second part will include the rest of it. hope you guys enjoy reading this cause I definitely put some hard work into it lol. also please give me feedback and suggestions, I'd really like to know your thoughts!

If you could go back, would you change what happened?

This is something that you often ask yourself. 

You think about that fateful day frequently. It was the summer before your first year at Merlin Academy. You had finally convinced your parents, the famed mermaid Ariel and her Prince Eric, to let you go for a swim unsupervised. Being half-mermaid, half-human allowed you to transform back and forth at will. And although life on land was pretty good, your heart always ached to go back to the sea, to feel the cold, salty water as it engulfs you. To race along the reefs, tail swishing back and forth, allowing you to reach speeds far past what your human form can do. To leisurely swim amongst the many species of fish and plants that created the world of the ocean. To go back home.

Your parents had already gone over the rules with you hundreds of time, to the point where you could recite each one of them word for word: “Don’t go past the boundaries,” “Don’t approach any animals you don’t know,” “Don’t go so deep where you can’t see any light,” “Come out at the first sign of bad weather,” and, most importantly, “Do not, under any circumstances, interact with any humans.”

Your mother may be renowned for rescuing a stranger from the unrelenting grasps of the sea—if she hadn’t, you wouldn’t even be here right now—but that was a very rare case. Far more often than not, mermaid interactions with humans out on the waters ended up in the mermaid being tortured, held hostage, or even killed.

You knew the rules by heart, and yet, maybe it was because of your young age, you still broke them. You weren’t really aware of your actions in the moment; one second, you were swimming alongside a pod of dolphins, racing against the currents. The next, you heard loud voices and realized that almost directly above you, yet still a good few dozen meters away, was some sort of ship.

You had ducked down next to a big sponge, peering up apprehensively. It was at that moment you realized that you were far outside of the boundaries set for you by your parents. You should have turned back, should have swam back home, but there was something about the ship, something that intrigued you so much it forced you to stay in place.

A few moments passed, and seeing as there was no commotion, you let your curiosity get the better of you. After all, that ship shouldn’t even have been out there. Slowly, you crept closer and closer to the surface, making sure to remain in the shadows. The noises were becoming clearer; you could make out people’s voices now. But they still weren’t sharp enough for you to understand what they were saying.

Finally, you took the risk and poked your head out of the water near the rear of the ship. The sight before you elicited a sharp gasp, and made you wish you had just gone back when you still had the chance. 

Extended from the side of the ship was a long, wooden plank. Standing on one side of it (the safe end), was a man, gagged, blindfolded, and bound. He looked to be no older than forty, with a scraggly beard and ripped clothes.

A pirate.

Another figure emerged, walking to the edge of the deck. Your reflexes caused you to duck down quickly, so only your eyes were barely above the water. This figure was much younger, with dark brown hair parted neatly and angular features twisted into a wicked smile. He donned a maroon blazer that covered a white shirt with an upturned collar. Something in his left hand shined brilliantly under the sun’s bright rays.

The younger figure laughed, but not in the way one would laugh at a funny joke. He unsheathed a cutlass from his side, using it to poke the back of the man on the plank. 

“You see, Mr. Jones? This is what happens when you cross the most feared pirate captain in all the lands!” the young figure roared as he yanked off the older man’s blindfold, revealing to him his fate. The fear and panic that spread across the man’s face has been forever etched into your mind, even to this day.

You heard the man beg and plea for mercy, watched as every move he made caused the plank to sway even more violently. The pirate captain simply laughed, his crew along with him. Finally, when you suppose he tired of hearing the man grovel, you watched in terror as the captain gave the man a good kick in the back, finally sending him over the edge.

Suddenly, it was like the world was spinning in slow motion. The man plummeting off the wooden platform, falling, falling, falling. His screams muffled by the cloth around his mouth. Then, all too soon, he made contact with the water with a loud splash. 

He sank quickly, devoured by the ocean’s waters within the blink of an eye. Your young, distraught face watched as a few bubbles rose to the surface. Then nothing. All that remained of the man’s existence, all there was to give proof that he had ever even been there, were a few ripples in the water.

That was it.

You were frozen in shock. How–what–why? Your brain could barely string together a comprehensive sentence. All you were sure of was the feeling inside you. You couldn’t quite put it into words, could barely even understand it. But it made your tail ache to move, made you feel as if you simply couldn’t stay in one place any longer.

You dove beneath the surface, frantically swimming towards the direction where you saw the man go under. You kept looking around, searching, but to no avail. You decided to dive deeper, swimming lower and lower until the water around you was near pitch-black. You were growing more and more panicked by the second, because every second you wasted was another second the man grew closer to death.

Finally, you caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of your eye. Hope flaring, you darted towards it, the figure becoming clearer the closer you got.

It was him.

You reached out and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt to prevent him from sinking farther. His eyes were shut and he wasn’t breathing, but you could still hear a heartbeat. There was still time left.

Wrapping your arms around him, you started the difficult journey back to land. Thankfully, you knew of a small island not too far from here. Swimming with the added weight of a fully grown man was incredibly difficult, especially for a young mermaid, but you persisted. After all, this was his life on the line.

You swam as hard as fast as you could, and thankfully, by some blessing from the heavens, found a warm water current going the direction you were. You let it carry you, the rushing stream multiplying your efforts. Finally, after what seemed like hours but must have only been a couple of minutes, you reached the island.

Letting the wave wash you up on shore, you settled the man down on the soft sand the first chance you got. You rolled him to his front, which was quite the endeavor itself. His heartbeat had grown more shallow, but it was still there. There was still hope.

Using the skills your mother had taught you, you started to nurse the man back to health using your melodic voice. Ever since you were young, she had explained to you the gift bestowed upon mermaids, the power of healing through song. She taught you to sing before you could walk, and it was the one thing that you were sure you could do right.

As you sang your strange and melodious tune, it finally occurred to you that you were breaking the most sacred of rules. Not only were you interacting with a stranger, you were coaxing him back to life. Like mother, like daughter, you thought. I suppose healing strangers who were drowning at sea runs in my blood.

The only caveat to your healing powers is that it takes quite some time to have its full effects. You don’t know how long you sat on the beach, but it had been quite some time. You probably would have been there for much longer had it not been for the boom voice that sounded behind you, waking you from your trance of song.

“Well, I’ll be. If it isn’t a mermaid.”

You practically jumped out of your fins as you turned around, startled beyond words. There, towering above you, was the evil pirate captain you saw earlier. He was even younger than you had previously thought. In fact, he couldn’t be much older than you. You wondered for a fleeting moment how a kid like that could command an entire ship full of grown—and scary-looking—men, but decided you have bigger matters at hand to worry about.

A few members of his crew lurked behind the captain, and you could see a small lifeboat docked to the ground near the coastline. Further beyond that, his ship swayed in the ocean waves, dark against the bright horizon.

You followed the pirate’s gaze down to your tail, which was still out. You silently cursed yourself for forgetting to transform back into your human form, being too distracted by saving the man to pay attention to your own safety.

You wanted to yell at the cruel pirate for trying to kill this man. No matter who he was, what he had done, he didn’t deserve to die. At least not like that. But the words got caught in your throat, so while a war raged inside your mind, you were completely quiet on the outside, simply staring up at the man with wide doe eyes.

“You have a lovely voice,” the man said, with a tone that you wouldn’t quite imagine a killer using. He must have overheard me sing earlier, you thought to yourself. “Tell me, little mermaid, who taught you to sing?”

“M-my mother,” you replied weakly, your voice far more meager and small than you wanted it to be. You were still staring up at him, afraid of what he’d do to you.

“Your mother? Well, that’s quite interesting.” The captain raised his left hand to scratch at his chin, which is when you realized that it wasn’t a hand at all. Instead of a hand was a curved metal hook, with a sharp point gleaming at the end. So that must be the shiny thing I saw earlier, you thought.

“Oh, where are my manners?” laughed the pirate abruptly. “My name is Captain James Hook, leader of the Jolly Roger. And you are?”

You blinked, almost forgetting your own name. If it were a less tense moment than this, you would have laughed at the fact that his name is rather befitting for him. “Y/N,” you respond.

“Y/N…Now, where have I heard that name before?” He tapped his chin with his hook again.

“Sir, that’s the name of Princess Ariel’s daughter,” one of the big, meaty pirates behind him answered in a gruff voice.

“That’s right!” Hook exclaimed. “You’re the mermaid’s daughter. You know, rumor has it you’ll be joining me at Merlin’s Academy in the fall, is that right?”

For some reason, your voice seemed to not work anymore, so you settled for nodding. Join him? you pondered. You didn’t know that he was also a student at the school you were planning to attend.

Hook started pacing along the beach, arms crossed with his hooked hand extended, deep in thought. You watched him, fear growing by the second. A sly smirk spread across his face, which only served to fuel the flames of your worry. 

“You know, you directly defied my command by saving that man,” he started. Slowly. Deliberately. Choosing every word precisely and carefully, like a shark circling its prey. “Do you even know why I made him walk the plank?” You shook your head no, the panic in you reaching record heights.

“That man”—he vaguely gestures towards the unconscious body laying on the beach with his hook—“stole an entire week’s worth of rations from my ship. An entire week’s worth of food and rum for an entire crew. Had he gotten away with it, we likely would have starved to death out at sea. Does he seem so innocent now, little mermaid? So worth saving?”

Again, you shook your head no. Although you agreed he definitely wasn’t an innocent man, you still didn’t see making him walk the plank a justifiable punishment. Despite your thoughts, you kept your mouth shut. Angering the captain further was not going to do you any good.

“Now, if anyone else had done something like this, I wouldn’t hesitate to cut their head right off,” Hook said menacingly, and with a swish, unsheathed his sword once again. You flinched—hard—and scrambled to back away from him. 

Hook took note of this, and, sheathing his sword, crouched down to get on the same level as you. “But don’t worry, little mermaid. I won’t hurt you. You see, you’ve piqued my interest. Plus, it would do me no favors to have a little girl’s blood on my hands.”

You let out a breath you hadn’t even realized you were holding. So he’s not going to kill me, right?

“But, alas, you can’t leave unpunished, now, can you?” he added. Your eyes grew impossibly wider, your entire body shaking in fear. This was it. He was going to kill you, or do something equally worse.

“I demand”—you already felt a tear slip down your cheek—“that you write to me for the remainder of the summer.”

Wait, what?

“W-write?” you asked in disbelief. “As in…”

“Letters,” Hook finished for you. “Write me letters. I’ll give you the mailing address of the Jolly Roger. Write me everyday, and I’ll promise I’ll write you back whenever we dock. How does that sound?”

“O-okay,” you reply, still taken aback by the peculiar, and far more lenient than you’d expected, request. That was all you had to do? Write letters? As punishment for saving the life of someone he’d ordered to die? You must be dreaming.

“Oh, and,” Hook said, voice lowered as he leaned in close to you, until he was just a hair’s breadth away from your ear. You could feel his warm breath on your skin, his alluring scent of salty winds and something richer, deeper, filling your lungs. “I look forward to seeing you in the fall. Don’t forget me, my little mermaid.”

With that, he stood up, smoothing out the lines on his pants. “You wouldn’t happen to need a ride back home, would you, love?”

You shook your head no, too terrified of him changing his mind to spend another moment in his presence. You glanced back at the man lying behind you, still unconscious. “W-what about him? What will you do with him?” you managed to choke out, somehow finding your voice again.

Hook pondered this for a long minute, before finally answering, “He can live.” You let out a shaky breath. “But only because of you, little mermaid. And only this time. You go against my wishes again, and trust me, your punishment will be far more severe.”

And with that, he went back to his ship and sailed away.

You still muse about that day, thinking how different things would have been if you had changed just one little thing.

You kept your promise of writing him letters, too afraid to know what would happen when you had to inevitably face him in the fall to break it. At first, they started out simple. Ordinary recounts of your day, your favorite things, what you liked to do. As the weeks passed, you started writing more personal letters. How you felt about certain things or certain people, including your parents. You never spoke a word of that fateful day to them, knowing that you’d be grounded for life and forbidden from swimming ever again if they caught even a whiff of the danger you had put yourself in. 

Hook kept his promise, too. He wrote you back, although it was far less frequent than your letters. Even though he kept his responses short and concise, you always ended up hearing his voice in your head as you read his notes. You soon found yourself checking your mailbox daily, even getting to know the mailman rather well. The rush of dopamine you got every time you opened it to find a letter awaiting you was unmatched; you would always run upstairs to your room, lock the door, and pour over the note. Reading every line, every word over and over again, committing them to memory. 

You don’t know why you enjoyed these little letters so much. Maybe it was the thrill of having a secret that no one else knew of, or the absence of your usual loneliness every time you were reminded that somewhere out there, across the seas, was someone awaiting your letters, reading them, and writing back to you. Whatever it was, your heart started to form an emotional attachment to him without you even realizing it. 

Unbeknownst to you, that had been his exact plan all along.

It’s safe to say that once you started school at Merlin Academy, Hook’s—or James’s, as he insisted on you calling him—grip on you only grew. Things started out pretty normal: light conversations in class and stolen looks exchanged across the hall, mostly initiated by him. After the first few weeks passed, things between you two only grew. Secret meetings during lunch hours, rendezvous after school, and small gifts exchanged between the two of you. From there, it became brushing your hands together whenever you passed by each other, soft pecks on the cheek or forehead where there were prying eyes, and more passionate kisses when the two of you finally found time to be alone.

Truth be told, you don’t really know what you two are now. Normally, you would consider two people that partake in such actions to be courting, and you kind of assume you are. But James has never said anything about a relationship to you, and in all honesty, you’re too afraid to ask him. You feel terribly confused at his intentions towards you; on the one hand, he approaches you every day without fail, even if you try to ignore him or when your schedules don’t match up. Somehow, he always finds a way. On the other hand, he never asked you to be his lover, never even vaguely mentioned anything of the sorts. So, you decided, with a heavy heart, to not be too confident and consider yourself his partner. And unfortunately, that meant that he wasn’t yours, either.

Really, you never meant to grow so involved with the bastard pirate that threatened to kill you on the beach that day. But for some strange reason, instead of treating you coldly like he did everyone else, especially the other hero kids, he was softer with you. Considerate, even. You had half-expected him to want nothing to do with you after your first few interactions, but he kept seeking you out. You often opened your locker to a note inside, or entered your dorm to find a letter slipped beneath the door.

Today was one of those days. You had gotten a note telling you to wait for him in your usual place in the evening, after classes. So here you are, waiting, staring at the water fountain in the courtyard. You’ve always been transfixed by the way the water spurts out the center and splashes all around. It seems that whenever you’re alone with your thoughts, they always end up back to that fateful day you met James, and everything that’s happened since.

“Wait for me long, my little mermaid?” a deep voice whispers in your ear from behind. You jump only a little, far more used to James sneaking up on you now than you used to be. For some reason, it seems he loves to startle you by wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you in close from behind, or speaking softly in your ear.

You twirl around, a delighted expression on your face, although you try to mask it with a feigned annoyance. “And if I say I did?”

“Well then, I’d have to find a way to make it up to you then, wouldn’t I, darling?” he purrs, using his hook to spin you around in his arms so you’re face-to-face. His lips make his way to yours, pulling you in for a slow, sensual kiss. You wrap your arms around his neck, bringing his head closer to yours, not able to get enough of his touch. 

The feeling of his skin against yours ignites something in you, and you find your mouth opening to give him more access as a soft whimper escapes your lips. One hand reaches into his hair, tugging at it gently from the base of his head, while the other one trails down the front of his shirt.

James leans into you even further, your bodies flush against each other now, as he deepens the kiss. You find yourself leaning against the edge of the water fountain, the cool sprinkles providing a welcomed contrast to your heating-up bodies.

Once you’ve completely lost your breath, you pull away just slightly, a love-drunk smile on your face. “You had a request for me?” you whisper, panting, eyes full of adoration for the man you were interlocked with. 

James breaks into a grin. A genuine one, not one of the smirks he flashes to uphold his patented suave demeanor. “Ah, yes, how could I forget, my love?”

He pulls further away to give you two enough room to breathe, yet keeping his good hand on the small of your back. “I was reminded today that it's been quite some time since I’ve heard your voice, my little mermaid.”

You give a little smile, deciding to mess with him a bit. “Whatever do you mean? You hear my voice every day. I mean, you’re even hearing it right now.”

James cocks his head to the side and raises a single eyebrow, clearly aware of your antics. “Your other voice, love.”

You giggle. “Fine, all right. Only for you,” you say, giving him a peck on the nose. 

You sit down on the ledge of the fountain, turning back to stare at the water again. Although it has been a long time since you stretched your tail and went for a swim, simply seeing the rushing water soothes you. It isn’t quite like being immersed in it, but it still gives you some semblance of comfort. 

You reach into the pool at the bottom, letting the cool water rush along your fingertips as you inhale a deep breath. Through your mermaid abilities, your voice twists into an otherworldly song, filling the space with a mellifluous sound. 

James takes a place on the ledge next to you, reaching into the water to hold your submerged hand. You don’t really feel it, too transfixed on the rushing waves. You don’t see the way James gazes at you, like you’re his entire world. The softness, the tenderness in his eyes, which he reserves for you only. He looks at you not as if you’re his sun, something too bright to ever stare directly at, something violent and explosive and harmful, but as if you’re his moon. 

As if you’re the figure he watches every night before he closes his eyes, and the one he wishes to see again when he wakes up. As if you’re the only thing he notices every time the darkness envelops him, your presence never falling off the pedestal he places it on in his mind. Never losing its worth. He looks at you, your soft glow and mesmerizing shimmer, as if you’re the only thing filling up the night sky. The stars and constellations pale in comparison to you, especially on your best nights, when you shine so magnificently. 

You are the moon, and he is the tide of the ocean, constantly being pulled in by you. Never being able to escape the grasp you have on him, the grasp you are so blissfully unaware of. He stares at you in awe and wonder, bathing in your gorgeous light, so close yet always so far away. Sitting all alone against the dark backdrop of the evening sky, waiting for him to come back to you. And without reason, you always disappear. Always leaving him wanting more, waiting till the moment he can bathe in your presence again. 

As you sing, the tide gets pulled in by the gravity of the moon. Your lyrical voice bounces off the stone walls, surrounding you both, just as the moonlight surrounds the waves on that mystical night. 

But the moonlight is only a reflection of the sun’s glow, is it not? When daylight comes, the moon will pull away from the waves, its absence in the sky all but forgotten in the sun’s presence. And as dawn breaks, so too will the pull between the moon and ocean. 

on to part 2! ->

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[maxknightley]

interesting that you can't sweep the dishes, but you can clean the floor using a wet sponge. this suggests the existence of an absolute tierlist of cleaning supplies

[elliethefroggy]

What if Eddie had been a little less oblivious and had invited to Buck to trivia-karaoke night.

They’re all three going to hang out at the karaoke bar, and at first Buck’s nervous because Tommy is super cool, but once the trivia quiz actually starts, all the nerves go away, and Buck’s sponge of a brain has a chance to shine.

He gets question after question right, barely having to consult the two others. Eddie’s probably used to this side of Buck, but Tommy gets to sit there, mesmerised because not only is Buck exceedingly attractive but he also has brains (does Tommy have a competency kink? Who’s to say).

By the end of the night, Tommy’s probably forgotten all about trying to answer the questions, too busy watching Buck’s eyes light up every time he knows an answer (and those eyes light up an awful lot). Overall, the night goes well, and Buck’s amazing brain probably wins them a pitcher of free beer or something.

Because that night went so well, all three of them start hanging out more and more. Maybe Tommy somewhat discreetly suggests to Eddie that they invite Buck along, just so he has the opportunity to stare in Buck’s eyes some more.

But Tommy doesn’t do anything at about his developing crush, at least not right away.

Firstly it’s because Tommy’s trying to figure out just what the deal is between Eddie and Buck. Are they dating? Are they the most healthy divorced couple of LA? BFFs? Platonic soulmates? Not-so-platonic soulmates?

Maybe it doesn’t take him that long to figure out that those two are not together, but then he still needs to make sure that there isn’t some unrequited or very-requited-but-they’re-both-oblivious crushing going on between Eddie and Buck.

My guess it takes him a while to finally decide that they’re some flavour of queerplatonic life partners (he decides on this after a lot of subtle and not so subtle questions; Christopher is probably his most helpful informant).

(Realistically, Tommy would have probably just straight up asked one of them if they were together because Tommy seems pretty good at communication, but that’s no fun for me.)

But then, once he’s figured out that Eddie and Buck are definitely not a thing, he still needs to figure out what exactly Buck’s sexuality is.

Because, sure Buck’s only ever dated women and is such an ‘ally’. But Buck spends way too long looking at other men’s asses. Tommy notices this because he’s probably caught Buck staring at the same asses Tommy himself was just looking at (remember the hanger scene when Tommy very blatantly checks out Buck’s ass).

So now Tommy’s having to figure out just what Buck’s sexuality is. Is Buck gay? Is he closeted? Is he as straight as he claims to be? Is he repressed? Also what’s with all the flirting (because of course Buck’s going to be unknowingly flirting with Tommy; Buck just can’t help himself).

Eventually, Tommy and Buck are going to have some one-on-one bonding time without Eddie.

Buck takes him up on those flying lessons which means Tommy gets trapped in a confined space with Buck on a regular basis, having to deal with his growing feelings towards what can only be a golden retriever in human form. Buck is kind and sincere and so so earnest, Tommy has no choice but to fall for him.

But Tommy still doesn’t know where Buck’s sexuality lies, and he’s getting to the point where’s pulling his hair out in frustration, trying to figure it out. Because no way can a heterosexual man stare at Tommy’s lips that often. There is no straight reason for that, right?

He then makes the mistake of also offering Buck Muay Thai lessons.

He doesn’t realise his mistake until they’re both sweaty and shirtless. Buck looks very good sweaty and shirtless. But it’s fine, Tommy manages to cope, he just avoids looking at the large expanse of wet skin right in front of him. He’s not distracted by all that skin. He’s fine.

(Luckily, Buck doesn’t know enough about Muay Thai to notice how badly Tommy is fighting.)

Somehow they both get tangled up and they fall to the ground (I don’t know shit about Muay Thai). Buck lands flat on his back and Tommy ends up on top of him. Tommy goes to get off Buck immediately because Tommy’s not exactly light, but then he makes another mistake: just as he places his hands on either side of Buck to push off the ground, he looks at Buck’s face

Buck’s cheeks are nice and red (because of exertion? Because of Tommy’s close proximity? Both?), Buck’s breathing heavily, his breaths getting faster and faster the longer Tommy stays where he is. Buck’s eyes are near black, his pupils leaving only the thinnest band of colour.

Buck’s staring at Tommy, and Tommy’s staring at Buck. Then Buck once again glances down at Tommy’s lips as Tommy is lying over him, their sweaty chests pressing against one another.

And Tommy cracks.

He throws himself off Buck, getting to his feet, and crosses over to the other side of the mat to put some distance between himself and Buck.

When he turns back to look at Buck, Buck is still lying on the ground, now leaning back on his forearms, looking up at Tommy. Which is a sight Tommy would love nothing more than to see again.

“Look, I’m sorry,” Tommy says, “but are you really straight?” Which is definitely not how Tommy wanted this conversation to start, but sue him, he’s having a breakdown. “Sorry,” he repeats, “It’s just there’s been a lot of flirting and a lot of starring at my various attributes,” he tries again, poorly, “Not that I’m complaining; I would love nothing more than to have you stare at my lips and flirt with me for as long as you want. But I need to know where we stand before I lose my mind trying to figure you out.”

And the thing is, Tommy’s not the only one who’s been struggling these past few weeks.

Buck’s been dealing with these weird feelings towards Tommy since day 1. At first he just figured it was because Tommy was so cool (which he is), and then he thought it was because he was jealous that Tommy was spending so much time with Eddie, thinking maybe Tommy was trying to steal his spot in the Diaz household. But is wasn’t either of those things. Buck’s been wracking his brain for weeks, trying to figure out just what he was feeling towards Tommy.

And here’s Tommy, all sweaty and shirtless, so much glistening skin on display, and Tommy’s offering Buck a possible answer to all these feelings he’s been unable to name.

And what Tommy’s implying makes some sense. Buck thinks over all the instances he’s hung out with Tommy, compares his behaviour to the times he’s had crushes on women, and thinks maybe Tommy’s onto something.

Buck, who is a big believer of the scientific method of experimentation, figures there’s an easy way to test Tommy’s theory.

Buck slowly gets up from the mat as his brain goes into hyper-drive, processing the fastest sexuality crisis known to humanity.

Maybe Buck flexes a bit as he gets up because Tommy’s watching him and he’s always liked attention.

By the time he straightens up, the sexuality crisis has been dealt with and he’s ready to act on these newly revealed feelings.

He likes Tommy’s theory a lot.

“I have been staring at your lips a lot, haven’t I?” He says, purposeful flirty.

(Once again they have both been (knowingly or not) starring at each other longingly for weeks, they are both shirtless and covered in sweat, and had their naked chests pressed up together just moments ago; neither of them are thinking very rationally.)

And Buck (flirty Buck who made picking woman up into an art-form) walks/stalks over to Tommy, leaving enough room for Tommy to back away if he wants to.

“Maybe you should do something about that?” Buck suggests, and very deliberately stares down at Tommy’s lips.

Tommy knows they should have a more thorough discussion about where both of them stand, but he’s only one man.

Tommy closes the gap between them, places two fingers underneath Buck’s chin, and slowly leans in to finally kiss Buck.

The kiss lasts no more than a moment, not nearly long enough for either of their tastes, but Tommy needs to be sure that Evan’s sure.

“So?” he asks simply, fingers still under Evan’s chin.

“Yeah, definitely not straight.” And Evan leans in to kiss Tommy again. Tommy does not mind at all.

(They then spend the rest of their Muay Thai lesson making out.)