#yeah in general they're pretty much the same

[genderqueerdykes]

ive been reading a lot about transmascs/trans men throughout history (alexander durov, one eyed charley, albert cashier etc) and many of them from what ive seen were able to get pretty far without having their sex discovered and im just wondering how? i know you don't really need much to pass even in 'modern days' and that you don't need to medically transition to pass (i passed a lot before T in front of strangers)

does it really only come down to just not telling and the men around them not caring for their voice?

its a bit harder to research since so much of history involving transmascs are either scrubbed or they're deadnamed and misgendered once they're gone

idk maybe im just lowkey jealous because many of them rarely got questioned from what ive seen and they were generally respected while they were alive

you know, that's a good question

if i had to guess, i think part of the reason people are so focused on gender right now is because we have recorded media to refer back to. instead of referring to people in our real lives we know, people tend to refer to the highly scripted people they see on the television, tablet, etc. we are fixated on what women "should look, act and sound like" and the same for men because we have multiple industries pushing this narrative. the internet is probably also likely a huge problem.

instead of people pointing to someone they know in their life and going "oh yeah i knew a guy like that before, he just had a high pitched voice!" (<- is actually talking about a trans man who isn't publicly out) they refer to the sculpted, scripted, preened and airbrushed people they see in shows, movies, games and popular content on YouTube. i think we're becoming way less accepting of the diversity humanity offers by being continuously lambasted with what "conventional attractiveness" and gender roles should look like.

it may also have to do with the fact that trans rights and trans people only really became known to the general public within the last 100 years. cishet people really just did not know about or consider the idea of a trans person anywhere near as much as they do now. i have a feeling its a lot of backlash from the civil rights movements of the past and present. i think people may have just minded their business before they became painfully aware of the existence of trans people.

those are my guesses, anyway. i'd love to hear more from other people on this!

[highoctanegem]

[pm] Well, have you considered making good points? Just a thought! Maybe I wouldn't be missing them if that was the case. Cause one thing about me, I love good points. LOL, that's very generous of you, babe. And look, we all need to cry sometimes. Or you'll end up emotionally constipated. Do you want that? No wayyy that makes it sound like I'm being totally unfair and biased when, pft... I would never. Um... I'm pretty sure she's spent almost as much on you as she's spent on me. Not that much that I should be jealous of you, but... a decent amount.

Wowww, skill issue then? Imo, being short is always better anyway. Life's great down here.

I dunno, have you met all the people in the world? I think you'll find it hard to find someone as big brained as me. Let's just say, if I was as good at... stuff as I am at throwing parties, my parents would love a whole lotta issues would be solved. But also, I wouldn't be the funniest person you know so. You win some, lose some. Who's to say! Maybe I know professional axe throwers that I'll invite to this party. It would sooo embarrassing to lose at your own party.

The one with the cars and the bikes! Personally more of a bike girly, for obvious reasons. I mean if I don't choose Yoshi and a bike am I even bisexual? I did not cheat, you just can't handle my skills [user wasn't much better either]

[...] Yeah? I guess... things would be easier if How can I How can I tell my I don't think I wanna do it their way anym They're not gonna unders [user types and retypes the same question several times before dropping it]

[pm] You miss points all the time. You're always missing points when I make them. Gotta give back somehow, I guess. I am very sure. I don't need onions, and I don't need to cry. You're always making some excuse for things I say not to count. I say something that's right and you say it doesn't count, every time. I don't miss points. Are you asking me? Regan has never paid me. [user has scammed regan out of thousands of dollars.]

I think they can probably help it.

I am being serious, and you are not the smartest person in the world. I'm not making a resolution. [user isn't entirely sure what this tradition is.] We'll see how good you are at throwing parties. I don't need to see who wins at the axe throwing, because I know it will be me. [user is, in fact, getting excited via competitiveness.]

Wait, is that the one with the cars? You cheated at that. [...] I wish it were different, too.

[featherymainffins]

Realised that Toshiro and his Laios Vs Falin situation is literally the Dungeon Meshi equivalent of Gortash and his Orin vs Durge situation

[eelclaw]

stupid fucking bastard. i am not coping with the leaks

[slingbats]

I am going to need that rewrite on my desk by tomorrow, 12 point font, times new roman, double spaced

noOOOOOO IT'S TOO MUCH WORK!!! I DON'T HAVE TIME AND I DON'T CARE ENOUGH........ girl help!

my rewrite where uhhhhhhhhhh. everything is the same except the writers actually care about female characters. a lot of decisions were made because of actresses no longer being available so plotlines like fish's are more or less the same but like, Ivy either gets to grow up normally or is never a child at the beginning to start with (you can go the weird plant body route if you have to keep her relatively younger since this is a prequel ig), and I don't... even know what to make of KK or Isabella, and Sofia should just be fucking. dont tell me there isn't a single female italian bodybuilder who can act, I don't believe you. let her be buff. let her take up space. let her be huge and wear vintage fashion.

also Oswald is fat and trans

[wokestone]

I really appreciate your dig into this! <3 This game is gonna drive me mad with these inconsistencies, especially since it's a game series that asks you to dig deeper lol.

For posterity, here is the NPC dialogue I mentioned at the masquerade:

The only other shaky thoughts I had were the definition of "consul" and "regent", which admittedly in a fantasy setting can mean whatever the heck they want it to be, but:

I'm still getting tied up on the word "consul" being used by Brant and that generic NPC dialogue (from Oswald) in particular, which seems to generally mean an elected/appointed representative position rather than on the same level as divinely chosen Sovran. Unless they really intend for "consul" and "Sovran" to be used interchangeably?

Disa does indeed have the title of "queen-regent", but it has me wondering if all past non-Sovran rulers are considered regents by default; perhaps her husband was known as the "king-regent" and the "regent" role means they're just acting in place until the next Sovran arrives? Disa might have manipulated things to be appointed as queen-regent after her husband's death considering Brant implies she was pretty much already running things while Vernworth was under her husband's rule already.

But this does bring up the question of how she's able to just pass the role onto her young, inexperienced son like the consul role is inheritable like she's just temporarily holding onto power until it can be given to the true inheritor (her son). This, I haven't a clue and requires more speculation and assumptions on how the governing of this damn kingdom is done lol. Perhaps she or other past nobles manipulated the consul role to be inheritable as a psuedo-monarchy without a Sovran around? Unfortunately I don't have enough lore to know for sure.

But yeah, that's just my food for thought.

(Side note, Sven needs more melanin if this Sovran is his dad.)

Depictions of Past Arisen (and various thoughts)

Was walking around Bakbattahl and noticed this mural depicting Rothias, the first Sovran (left), and a second figure (right). Considering they too are standing triumphant on top of a dragon, I assumed they must be Arisen too.

I had also collected some photos of the throne room's stain glass windows depicting the past Sovrans: a humanized Rothias, the 2nd Sovran (presumably the Arisen that Rothias said sealed him under the sea), the 3rd Sovran (the one from the Bakbattahl mural!), the 4th Sovran, and the 5th Sovran.

This makes us (or Darraugh/"Arthur"), the 6th Sovran in line.

Based on the dress of the 3rd Arisen and their appearance in Bakbattahl art, I can only assume Bakbattahl wanted to pay tribute to the Sovrans that originated from their land, so the rest are likely of Vermund origin.

The only other lore that I am aware of exists about past Sovrans is that with the underground library crypt, Waldhar says it was sealed by a Sovran "of generations past" that "in a bid to pass the throne on to his own descendants, this Sovran attempted to consign our kingdom's histories to oblivion" and that this "Sovran's line ultimately fell to ruin." Considering how forgotten this library is, I'd estimate maybe 2nd, 3rd, or 4th Sovran did that? 5th Sovran might be of too recent memory, because based on ambient NPC dialogue at the masquerade, it's been "decades" since they last had a true Sovran.

(This is speculation, but perhaps the beastren were run out of Vermund after blaming Mad Sovran for killing random people he thought were the Pathfinder, and thus the kingdom split in two? Perhaps the 2nd Sovran didn't help matters either.)

Interesting of note is each Sovran depiction hints at the types of vocations they might have favored.

Rothias - Greatsword (Warrior), Stave (Mage/Sorcerer), Duospear (Mystic Spearhand). The depiction of him over the throne appears to be have just a regular longsword, so Fighter too perhaps? Would make sense that Rothias would be an accomplished Arisen who mastered multiple vocations.

2nd Sovran - Stave (Mage/Sorceror); makes sense if they had the magick to seal away Rothias

3rd Sovran - Sword and Shield (Fighter) and Dagger (Thief)

4th Sovran - Stave (Mage/Sorcerer)

5th Sovran - Greatsword (Warrior)

I also had the thought - had any of these Sovran taken the Dragon's deal like Edmund did in Dark Arisen, which extends your life? Considering we aren't aware of any prolonged longevity past Rothias, they might have all successfully slain the Dragon and reclaimed their hearts. Rothias for sure did since he rose to Seneschal, and if the 2nd Sovran did indeed have the power to seal Rothias under the sea, I can only assume they were of strong enough will to be able to defeat their Dragon too. It is possible that perhaps any that took the Dragon's deal might have perished through other means (murder, accident, disease, etc.). While Ser Brant says Disa poisoned/cursed you and sent you away because an Arisen "can't be killed by mortal hands", I assume this to be meddling by the Pathfinder or a deeply believed superstition, and perhaps once an Arisen has claimed Sovranhood through a deal with the Dragon, Pathfinder stops caring about protecting their immortal ass lol.

Other miscellaneous depictions of Sovrans at the palace, and in the world:

Above the throne itself. Another human depiction of Rothias, along with (presumedly) kneeled pawns wielding weapons.

2. Rothias' statue as depicted in Battahl, with the head of the statue preserved and not knocked off to hide Rothias' true heritage like in Vermund.

3. On top of the Vermund palace. I can't fit this one to any one specific Sovran, so it might be a symbolic representation of one wearing the Stygian Omen armor because they're missing Rothias' beard. Considering Darraugh was wearing the armor, I assume it to be a flawed recreation based on the statues of Rothias' armor (considering the actual Sovran's Plate is a very similar but slightly different set).

4. Fountain of the 1st Sovran - a human Rothias wielding a duospear and wearing the Stygian Omen armor.

If any of you know any Sovran lore I'm missing, please let me know!

[tklpilled]

rant abt the bsd dub in the tags (both good and bad)

[0fps]

HOYO-MIX DROP THE LUOFO ALBUM ON SPOTIFY GOD DAMN PLEASEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

[daxite]

yeah i think i've fully come to terms with the fact that i'm 100% somewhere on the ace spectrum lol

[nientedal]

This protest had solid intent but it's unfortunately really frustrating to read about. The article above does a good job of framing it positively, but most of the articles from more widely-read sources maintain focus on the Gala itself rather than the protest, because of course they fucking do; you are not going to have the reach doing this that you think you are unless you actually make it to the location where the event is held and can disrupt the photos, as we saw success with last week at the White House Correspondents Dinner. The odds of making it to the door without a plan are extremely slim, and sure enough, it did not happen this time. Protesters lingered in Central Park; those who did attempt to march on the Gala were blocked by police at every turn. If you're protesting an event as big as this one, you need a way to get your people to disrupt the event itself. At the bare minimum, you need an extensive network of media contacts pushing pushing pushing this on social media and in the news, or you are going to be drowned out by the spectacle.

I am absolutely not saying Don't Protest At Celebrity Events, but for fuck's sake, part of protesting is pushing your cause higher into the public consciousness and that is not going to happen here and it just drives me up the wall. You have to make sure you have laid the groundwork for your voice to be heard when you do something like this! You're marching against the goddamned Met Gala with no strategy to make you bigger and actually get you to the Met Gala? What?

I dunno. I see what they were trying to do, and it did get some news articles. But it does not seem to have succeeded in generating focus the way it would have if they had, you know, actually made it into the crowd at the door. I'm not reading that they had any plan to that effect and it's just so frustrating.

ANYWAY "nobody better be posting about" etc. etc. without also posting a link to a local bail fund if possible. In this case, that'd probably be the Action Bail Fund, which supports protesters in New York. Bucknell has a multi-state list of bail funds as well, though many of these are cause-specific. Do your own research, but please support protesters where you can.

(Here's also a link to a list of Palestinian fundraisers that I believe have been vetted as legitimate. Clicking here will generate a random fundraiser from that list; the website's About page says they prioritize fundraisers that haven't gotten as much attention or have stagnated. So, that's cool. Donate & signal boost, you know the drill; getting more eyes on aid will hopefully help individual people a bit more than just posting a vaguely guilt-trippy link and calling it good.)

nobody better be posting about the met gala without mentioning the giant pro-palestine demonstration going on outside

[mist-the-wannabe-linguist]

Hot take

Night furies are actually perfectly evolved for hunting and killing other dragons and the only reason they aren't a dragon-hunting species like the death song or deathgrippers are is because DreamWorks couldn't have their adorable main character dragon be a "cannibal"

(below I'm gonna try to summarize what we've figured out in a convo with friends on discord)

(also tw animal death via predator)

First of all yes I'm aware that pretty much every decision made about their design was with consideration of the effect it would make on human audiences but hear me out

Night furies are most iconically known as dive-bombers. They are built for speed, high maneuverability, night-time camouflage and for striking targets from above. If we remove human settlements out of the equation (which would not have existed long enough to actually influence night fury evolution, come on), what does that leave us with?

They aren't built for catching fish for sure, they aren't very hydrodynamic and their head is round, wide, and their teeth are dull. Honestly, the monstrous nightmare is much better suited for catching fish, with its long neck, almost pelican-like jaw and rhamphorhynchus teeth

Compare to

Yeah the jaws look kinda like a porpoise of some sort but for that the whole body would have to be a lot more aquatic imo. The light fury looks a lot closer to an aquatic diver, it has a sleeker body, rounded fins instead of spikes, and a long neck.

I don't really see them hunting land animals either, they just don't look like they're adapted for that minus the resemblance with large felines and even then, they're too large to effectively hunt in forests.

The one thing I can kinda imagine them hunting is large mainland megafauna, but we're working with a setting that takes place pretty much exclusively on islands. And overall, dragons are the only abundant species there with the exception of fish and human-bred sheep and chickens.

In general, night furies have duller teeth, smaller claws and are smaller than most dragons. Disregarding the movies making Toothless weirdly OP, a night fury would be disadvantaged against most dragons in a 1v1 fight and besides, it has four huge weak spots that would highly discourage it from a direct physical fight - the primary and secondary tail fins. One unlucky rip in the membrane and the night fury is fucked.

The night fury however noticeably resembles falcons, given their dive-bombing ability and high maneuverability.

Falcons too have smaller beaks and weaker claws compared to most birds of prey, and for that they compensate by simply picking up speed, balling up their talons and Punching. Really. Hard.

And they use that ability to kill other birds, even much larger ones, by knocking them right from the sky.

Here, the night fury's plasma blast works the same way as a falcon's punch. Dragons are fire-resistant, so what the plasma blast does is really just a densely packed bolt of energy that has the effect of either stunning or outright killing prey by damaging its spine. And what the plasma bolt doesn't do, rapid contact with the ground would finish. And if even that doesn't do it, the night fury's wide jaws and dull teeth are just fine for simply clamping around the unlucky dragon's neck and strangling it, like a lion or a pitbull.

The night-time camouflage allows the night fury to soar for extended periods of time perfectly unnoticed in the night sky, and by the time it strikes, the dragon wouldn't even know what's coming.

Unless

Say the hunting night fury is aware of other dragons sleeping under the trees, as most dragons probably would at night (village raids aside, most dragons seem to be diurnal), so how does the night fury get them in position where it can use its signature attack? Well, there's That Iconic Screech Of Death. Since in the movies it tends to appear not just during dive-bombings but also when charging up a blast, I imagine it's something the night fury is able to control to some degree. So by simply fake-diving in close proximity to sleeping dragons, it can effectively terrify them into leaving their hideout and fly out into the open where it can easily take them out.

I dunno, the possibility of night furies as predators to other dragons just makes so much sense to me, I really don't know what other reasons there would be for them to evolve these particular adaptations.

And one more little headcanon to add to this whole rant - since night furies are significantly smaller and less equipped for dragon vs dragon fights and are primarily speed-based predators, I imagine there is this very likely scenario:

There is one dragon who resembles a hyena, a lil bit

Ok, rant over

[madebycloud]

pt 1 | Not Even at All

jinx/powder x female reader — 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

summary: vi is off limits until her sister gets a date that doesn't end within the first ten minutes. eager to date vi, a certain girl approaches you with a proposal. date jinx. win her over. and for your efforts, she's willing to be generous. (10 Things I Hate About You AU) warnings/themes: fluff, kinda enemies to what, one sided fake dating, highschool, modern au, smoking (reader), kat!jinx, patrick!reader words: 5.8k notes: because of the age difference, caitlyn is in college that's why she's always on calls.. — ✩ part one, part two, part three, part four, part five

You pick up at the third ring, hearing a deep sigh of relief. “Oh, good, you picked up.”

It's Caitlyn.

You put the phone down for a few seconds to eat your sandwich, before picking the phone back up. “What now?” you ask through a mouthful of sandwich. “I just woke up, y'know.”

The line is silent for a minute.

Then, you hear Caitlyn clear her throat. “Are you busy right now?”

It's 9am on Sunday, of course you're not busy. “Kinda busy eating my breakfast,” you reply, taking another bite. “Why?”

You hear some shuffling on the other end, some muttering, and another pause before Caitlyn speaks again. “I have… a proposition.”

A proposition already, and so early in the morning? you put your sandwich down, sitting up and making sure you heard that right. “I'm listening.”

Caitlyn clears her throat again, and there's sounds of footsteps and whispers in the background, as if she's moving somewhere more secluded. “…Do you know Jinx?”

It's a strange question. Pretty much everyone knows Jinx. “Yeah,” you reply. “Why?”

The shuffling resumes, a few footsteps, and the murmur of voices. “I'll cut to the chase. I'm asking for your help. I need you to do me a favor.”

You pause, raising an eyebrow. What does she want? “Depends on what it is.” You shrug. “And what I'd get in return.” You take a sip from your glass.

The murmuring on Caitlyn's end of the line stops, and you hear the sound of a door clicking shut. “I want you to take Jinx on a date.”

You nearly choke on your drink. “You want me to what?” you manage to ask between coughs.

“It'll be a fake date!” she says quickly. “If you can make this date go smoothly and… make her like you, even a little bit, I'll pay you a hundred dollars.”

Your eyes nearly pop out of your head. “100 dollars?!” You cough again. “You can't just throw me under the bus like that. You've lost your damn mind.”

“Please just hear me out,” Caitlyn pleads. “It's not like you have to ask her to marry you. Just think of it as a challenge. You get 100 dollars if you can get her to enjoy a date with you. Come on, you're good with girls, aren't you?”

What does she think you are, some suave James Bond-esque ladykilling playgirl? while you’ve kissed a couple girls, you can't call yourself super suave. 

“Caitlyn, Jinx hates me.” It's common knowledge. Jinx hates nearly everyone, especially people she was in class with. “She's gonna kill me if I ask her out on a date.” You shudder.

“That's why I chose you for this,” she says. “I figured you were the type to face any challenge head-on.”

“This isn't just a 'challenge', it's a mission for the suicidal,” you retort. “You're setting me up to embarrass myself and get ridiculed in the process.”

You hear her scoff. “So you can flirt and tease the whole damn school, but a date with Jinx is the line you draw, is that it?”

You scowl at her comment. You’ve been known to flirt and joke around with a few people at school, but that’s all it is—meaningless flirting with no strings attached. This is completely different—this is Jinx we’re talking about. “You're comparing apples and oranges here,” you protest. “They're not the same, Cait.”

“Maybe,” she replies. “But I've seen how you've charmed your way out of trouble. You're good at talking your way out of things. And that's exactly what I need right now.”

That's true, but that’s with a teacher, or a TA, or a store manager who’s trying to bust you for shoplifting. Not with Jinx, of all people.

“Caitlyn, c'mon. She's either gonna punch me in the face, or call me a dumbass, or both.”

“Just listen,” she cuts in. “All you have to do is go on a fake date with her. You don’t have to actually like her.”

“No, no, no.” You shake your head, gripping the phone in your hand. “No way, no how.”

“150 dollars.”

“You really, really want me to go on a fake date with Jinx?” you murmur. “Are you that desperate?”

“I'm very desperate.”

You groan, rubbing your temples. “Why are you so fixated on me doing this?”

You hear movement on the other line, like Caitlyn's pacing back and forth. “Okay, look,” she begins. “I… really like her sister. Like really like her. Like…”

This wasn't just a fake date. It was a way to get closer to who she liked. “Oh. Ohh.”

“Yeah...”

Wow. This was a lot more desperate than you initially thought.

“But why don't you just ask her sister out?” you ask.

“I did.” She sighs again. “I asked Vi out last week, and she said she can't go on a date with me until her sister finds someone. Jinx has to be happy before Vi can go on dates, according to her.”

What the hell kind of ridiculous rule is that? “So let me get this straight,” you start. “You want me to go on a fake date with Jinx.”

“Yes.”

“Until she becomes my... girlfriend?”

“Yes.”

“And then you can date Vi.”

“Yes.”

It sounds crazy, ridiculous, batshit insane. “Holy shit, Caitlyn.” You run your fingers over your eyes, shaking your head to yourself. “All of this just so you can get laid?”

A huff comes from the other end of the line. “Are we making a deal or not?”

“Hey, wait a minute—I'm gonna need the money first,” you say, drumming your fingers against the table.

“Excuse me?”

“Yeah,” you explain. “You know, the whole dating thing. Dates, food, gas, that kinda stuff. You can't expect me to pay for all of that with my own money.”

Caitlyn doesn't respond immediately. You can hear some shuffling, and you can imagine her biting her lower lip anxiously, maybe staring out the wall.

“There's a high probability I won't even get a Harley after all this,” you add. 

Silence.

“So I'm gonna need the money...”

There’s a pause, then an annoyed hiss. “Don't you trust me?”

“Oh hell no. Give me the money first and then I'll consider the deal.”

She sighs. “Fine. Whatever, I'll give you the money.”

“All of it?”

“…Yes. All of it. All 150. For your shitty, awful fake date.” She huffs. “Deal?”

“Deal.”

—

You step into the office, finding Caitlyn’s mother already hunched over her laptop, staring over the rim of her glasses. You hated coming into this office. It always felt like you were in the principal’s office.

“I see we're making our visits a weekly ritual,” Mrs. Kiramman says, staring at you over her laptop. 

“Only so we can have these moments together,” you reply, your mouth already curving into a grin. “Should I, uh, get the lights?”

Mrs. Kiramman sighs, her eyes scanning over the paper in front of her. “Exposed yourself... in the cafeteria,” she mutters. “I seriously don't understand why my daughter associates herself with you.”

“It was for a good reason, I swear.”

“Oh, really?” She raises her eyebrow. “And what reason is that?”

“I was joking with the lunch lady,” you explain, spreading your hands out. “She was being snippy with me, so I started unbuttoning my shirt, it's not like I was actually going to flash anyone.”

Mrs. Kiramman takes off her glasses and pinches the bridge of her nose, her other hand coming to rest on her forehead.

“But I suppose if we've already looked through all my wrongdoings, you can release me back into the wild, eh?” you continue.

“Just... make it more than a week before coming back here, alright? I don't want to see you in my office every week—you're a walking headache.”

“Sure thing, Mrs. K.”

“And stop calling me Mrs. K.”

—

Jinx kicks the ball here and there, back and forth, side to side. She's taking all of her frustrations out on this ball, dribbling it down the field, passing it to her teammates, dodging opponents.

Her moment of peace is interrupted when a player tries to intercept her pass. She grins, dribbling out of the way and kicking the ball hard into the player's face. 

The coach blows the whistle. “Great practice, everybody!”

Practice over. Jinx tosses the ball aside. She rubs her eyes with the heel of her hands, a headache thudding against her skull. She bends forward to grab her water bottle from the edge of the field, taking generous swigs from the bottle.

Jinx is the captain of her high school's soccer team. She's good—really good. She has quick feet and a mean kick, and she's scored a lot of points for the team. In games, however… Jinx is aggressive. She kicks hard. She kicks fast. She kicks a lot. She does not pull her punches when it comes to her opponents.

She's halfway done guzzling water when a voice interrupts her.

“Hey there, girlie.”

Jinx pauses, swallowing the last of the water in her bottle. She glances up at you, watching you approach her as you shove your hands into your pockets.

“How ya doin'?” 

“Sweating like a pig actually,” she replies, pulling out a small towel and wiping her face. “And yourself?”

You hum, rocking back and forth on your feet. “I’m good. Just thought I'd come and chat with our wonderful captain.”

Jinx grumbles as she slings the towel over her shoulder.

“That was quite a performance out there,” you continue, raising a hand to give her a slow clap. “You were brutal today. Worse than usual, not-gonna-lie.”

Gathering her stuff, Jinx zips up her bag, slings it across one shoulder, then strides past you.

“Hey,” you say, quickly catching up to her. “Where are you going?”

“Where do you think, genius? I'm leaving.”

You huff, following her as she marches out of the soccer field. “Pick you up on Friday, then.”

Jinx makes a face at that. “Oh, right, Friday,” she mimics. “Uh-huh.”

You cock a smirk. “Well, the night I take you places you've never been before.”

“Like where? The 7-Eleven on Broadway?”

“Ha, very funny.” You shake your head. “And actually, no, smartass.”

“Do you even know me?” she asks, not slowing her pace.

You hurry to keep up and shrug. “Yeah, we have the same class on science and english.”

She stops in her tracks and turns to look at you, eyes flitting up and down, up and down. Once, twice, three times. “You're the one that never shows up in Mr. Viktor's class?”

“Hey, to be fair,” you say, putting your hands up. “That's an 8 a.m. class. No one shows up for an 8 a.m. class at ass o'clock in the morning.”

Her expression remains unamused as she shifts her bag's backpack strap further off her shoulder. “Except you're the only one who never shows up. You have the same attendance rate as Mr. Blitzcrank,” she tells you, turning back around to start walking. “Which is absolutely none.”

“What can I say?” You chuckle, jogging to catch up to her again. “I'm very talented. Gifted, even.”

She mutters something under her breath that sounds suspiciously like “Talented at being an idiot, more like.”

“Hey, I heard that.”

“Good,” she says over her shoulder. “Maybe don’t try to impress me with your shitty grades and your non-existent attendance record next time, then.” Without a second glance, she continues walking, leaving you behind.

“Ouch!” you exclaim. “Rude, by the way!” you shout at her, and you see a flash of a smile over her features.

—

Jinx stands at her locker, gathering her books—a variety of books with names like Introduction to Rocketry, Engineering and Architecture, Chemistry Vol. 3: Chemical Reactions, Organic and Inorganic Compounds and Mixtures, and a few other engineering books, all with worn spines and yellow pages.

“Hey,” you greet.

She doesn't even glance at you as she continues sorting through her books, shoving what she doesn't need aside with a flick of her wrist.

“You hate me, don't you?” you ask, leaning against the locker beside her.

She gives you a side glance but doesn't fully look away from her locker. “What are you, five?” she asks. “I don't really care enough about you to hate you.”

“Rude.”

“It's the truth. As far as I'm concerned, you're better than a mosquito,” she says, continuing with sorting through her locker. “Annoying, but not something worth paying attention to.”

“Mosquito, really?”

She slams her locker shut and locks it. She turns to look at you, adjusting her backpack straps on her shoulders—a backpack that is covered in various patches and colorful pins. “What exactly do you want?”

“Spend Dollar Night at the track with me.”

She arches one eyebrow. “And why the hell would I do that?”

“Come on, the ponies, the flat beer... you with money in your eyes, me with my hand on your ass…”

“You covered in my vomit,” she cuts you off. “That's what's going to happen. If I go within ten feet of whatever greasy-ass food joint and cheap liquor you're going to take me to.”

“Damn, you're feisty. I kinda like that.”

She scowls at your words. “And you're annoying. I kinda despise that.”

“Ouch,” you mock. “And you're a bit more than feisty. You're like... feisty on steroids. Are you always like this?”

Her scowl deepens, and in one second, she suddenly has one of your arms twisted behind your back and pinned to your torso.

She leans forward, her face so close to yours. “Maybe, if you stopped annoying me,” she whispers. “I'd stop acting like this.”

You flinch, letting out a low hiss. “Ow, ow-” You try to pull away from her grip, but she only tightens it. “Ow, okay, I get it—let go, let go!” 

She holds you still for a moment longer before roughly releasing her grip. You stagger forward, rubbing the spot where her hand had been. “What-” you gasp “-the hell was that for?”

“Consider it a learning experience, dipshit,”  she snaps, before stalking off, her long blue braid swinging behind her.

“You can't just-” you start to call after her, but she's already halfway down the hall. You huff rubbing your sore arm. 

Yep. Jinx is as prickly as a cactus. This is gonna be harder than you thought.

—

“She's a freaking Ronda Rousey,” you mutter into the phone, massaging your throbbing arm. “She damn near twisted my arm off!”

“Jinx? Did she hurt you?”

“Just my dignity.”

You hear Cait chuckle faintly. “I'll take that to mean it didn't go very well?”

“You could say that,” you grumble. “She's difficult.” You watch your clothes spin around in the washing machine. “I think this may take longer than you think, Cait. Waaay longer.”

“I can't just flirt my way through this,” you go on, moving to grab one of the nearby magazines to distract yourself. “She's smart, witty, and sassy—the whole package. Very pretty, too. But she's rude.” You shift your phone to fit between your shoulder and ear.

“Rude,” you stress again, flipping to a magazine page with random trivia questions on it. “Who the hell is rude these days? It's all sugarcoating, bullshit, and fake smiles.” You glance idly at the question titled 'How Compatible Are You with Your Ideal Partner?'. You scoff, turning the page. “She's downright ruthless.”

“Have you even tried asking her out?”

“Hell yes I have. I even tried asking her to go to Dollar Night at the track.”

“You tried asking her to go to the race track?”

“You don't think she's a fan of ponies and alcohol?” you reply, grinning.

“I think she's a fan of punching you in the face.”

“Yeah, she did not like that idea.”

There's a pause on the line.

“Okay, I'll admit that wasn't the smoothest plan.”

“Or smartest,” Cait interjects. “Anyway, are you reading a magazine right now?”

“I'm at the laundromat.”

“And you're reading a magazine.”

“To pass the time,” you justify.

“Mhm.”

“I'm boooored.” You set the magazine down on a nearby chair, turning back to watch your clothes spin around. “And I'm tired of watching my clothes spin around. It's boring. I haven't had a good date in ages.” You move to rest your head against the glass. “I need something interesting. Someone interesting.”

Your eyes move across the storefronts and streets outside of the laundromat.

Wait… It can't be...

But, yes.

Yes it is. It's Jinx's car.

Your gaze focuses on the shiny blue vehicle before shifting to Jinx, who gets out of the car and walks over to a nearby music store just down the road.

You hear Caitlyn's muffled voice. “Did you hear anything I just said?”

“Yeah, Cait, I heard you,” you lie, taking your eyes off her car to turn your attention back to the washing machine and your phone. “Uh, I'll call you back. I think I just saw Jinx.”

—

Jinx pushes the entrance door open, juggling a small bag of CDs in one hand and rifling through her purse in the other. Her lips form a small 'o' when she finally pulls her keys out...

...and looks up to see you sitting on the hood of her car. She groans to herself.

“Nice ride. Vintage fenders.” You turn around to face her, leaning back against the hood.

Jinx stops a few feet away from you, shifting the bag of CDs to the other hand. “Are you following me?”

“Nah,” you shrug. “I was at the laundromat,” you pause, gesturing to the building in front of the store she just walked out of. “Saw your car. Thought I'd say hi.”

“Hi,” she grumbles.

Jinx walks over to her car, but you quickly stand ahead of her, placing yourself between her and her vehicle. “You're not afraid of me, are you?”

“Why would I be afraid of you?” she retorts, her nose wrinkling.

“Some people are,” you reply. 

“I'm not.” “Maybe you're not afraid of me… but I bet you've thought about me naked.” You smirk, taking the time to wink at her.

“Am I that transparent?” she mutters. “I want you... I need you... Oh, baby, oh baby.” Jinx rolls her eyes dramatically as she tries to step around you, but you shift your body to block her path again.

“Now, don't ignore me,” you tease.

“Let me pass, I have places to be,” Jinx says irritably, trying to step around you for the third time, only for you to once again move and block her.

“Come on now,” you urge. “Just a few minutes of your time.”

“You're being a pest,” she complains. “What do you want?”

“Just a little bit of your time, that's all,” you answer, holding your hands up in surrender before resting them back on the car. “C'mon. You don't have anything better to do anyway, right?”

“Piss off,” Jinx snaps, reaching out and grabbing the handle. The door swings open, throwing you off balance and causing you to topple forward.

Jinx throws the bag into the passenger seat, slams the door shut, and starts the car. She doesn't hesitate to throw the car in reverse, and you have to lunge out of the way to avoid being hit.

RUDE! You scowl in Jinx's direction, watching her drive away. With a sigh, you reach into your pocket and grab your phone, heading back into the laundromat. You begin to dial Caitlyn's number.

The phone only rings once before it's picked up immediately. “Well? what happened?” she starts without any sort of introduction.

“I just upped my price,” you declare.

“What?”

“200 dollars a date.” You stand your ground. “In advance.”

“And why are you increasing the price?”

You sigh heavily, rubbing your forehead. “I told you she's difficult,” you remind her. “She's prickly, short-tempered, and violent,” you explain. “I'm increasing my price because I'm taking a hell of a lot more risk dealing with her.”

“Forget it.”

“Forget her sister, then.”

Silence falls for a heartbeat. Then, reluctantly, she grunts. “Fine. 200 dollars a date. But I want results.”

“No promises,” you warn her. “And first things first, we need to find some way to make Jinx actually want to go on a date with me. How well do you know her?”

Caitlyn hums. “She's Vi's sister, so we have some, ah…” She searches for the correct word. “History,” she finishes awkwardly. “But I'm not an expert on Jinx's inner workings, if that's what you're asking.”

“Great.” That really wasn't the answer you were hoping for. How was it that Caitlyn was apparently able to make this plan without knowing anything about Jinx? “Do you think Vi would have anything?”

“...Maybe,” she responds slowly. “I could probably ask Vi.” She pauses. “Actually,” Caitlyn continues. “I might know someone who... might know Jinx pretty well.”

“Who?”

“Ever heard of a kid named Ekko?”

—

He glances over his shoulder at you, a paintbrush in hand. “What do you want?”

After a bit of searching, you're able to find Ekko at his usual spot—painting the empty space on the school wall. Some of your friends mentioned that he usually hung out here during free periods.

“I want to know about your friend... Jinx.”

Ekko rolls his eyes, resuming his painting. “Yeah, sure, stranger I don’t even know.”

You huff in annoyance. “Alright, listen,” you begin. “I'm not here to cause trouble, or gossip, or any of that. I…” you pause, shifting uncomfortably. “I'm trying to ask Jinx out on a date,” you explain. “So I thought you might be able to help me.”

That makes Ekko pause. He blinks slowly, slowly glancing back over his shoulder at you. “…You’re shitting me, right?”

“I'm not,” you insist. “I'm being serious, alright? and I'm not getting into some of the details, but I…” you pause awkwardly. “I kind of need this date to happen.”

“You need this date?” Ekko echoes, staring at you. “The hell does that mean?”

“I mean,” you reply, avoiding direct eye contact. “I just need it to happen, and for reasons I'm not going to disclose,” you add. “I need it to go really well. You get me?”

Ekko scoffs but nods his head. “Sounds like you're desperate or something.” He sets his brush down, turning around to face you. “Why Jinx, anyway?”

“I…” you start, not really sure how to explain this to Ekko without spilling every detail. “Let's just say my reasons are my own.”

“Hm.” He studies you up and down. “First off, who the hell even are you? how do I know you're not some creep trying to take advantage of Jinx?”

You open your mouth to defend yourself, but then close it and sigh. “Okay, you have a point,” you admit. “But listen,” you soothe. “I'm not a creep. I'm a senior student, like you and Jinx. I want to ask Jinx on a date, and no one really knows her all that well, so I thought you could help me because she's your friend-”

Ekko shakes his head, picking up the brush once again. “Nah we're not that close anymore.” He gives you a sidelong glance. “Jinx and I used to be close friends a few years ago,” he explains, returning his attention to the painting. “But things between us… got complicated.”

Juicy. But that’s none of your business, and definitely not Ekko’s place to share. So you move on, clearing your throat. “Right. Um… Okay, so back to Jinx,” you begin. “You still know her better than most, right? you must have some good insight on her.”

“I don't know,” he replies slowly. “Yeah, I know a bunch of things about Jinx. But… honestly, there's just as much that I don’t know.” He starts painting again. “She changes her mind like… every five seconds. She's unpredictable. Reckless. Wild. Dangerous.”

“I'm not here to psychoanalyze Jinx,” you clarify. “I just need to know… how the hell to even talk to her one-on-one, without her throwing a pencil at me or something.”

Ekko snorts. “Oh, that's easy.” He glances at you through his eyelashes. “Good luck.”

—

“Of all the places you want to meet up, you chose here?”

You straighten up and glance over at Caitlyn, who's standing off to the side, looking around the place. She looks rather out of place here, especially compared to the other customers in the pub—greasy-looking old men, rough-looking teenagers dressed in leather and denim, and drunken bums hanging around the slots.

Caitlyn grimaces as another patron spits tobacco juice to the floor. “Gross…” she mutters, wrinkling her nose.

You shrug, taking a puff from your cigarette. “You're never late,” you reply. “And this place is never busy. Figured it would give us privacy.”

“Right.” Caitlyn takes a seat on a nearby stool, folding her legs neatly. “So… how's Ekko?”

You line up the cue ball to the 8, taking one last look down the table before glancing at Caitlyn. “Um… he's good,” you reply. “A bit unhelpful, but that's alright.”

You aim the cue ball at the 8 again and give it a good hard smack, watching it glide across the table. It hits the 8 ball, which rolls a few inches before stopping. Damn. You’re just off.

“What about you, how's Vi?” you ask, taking a drag from your cigarette and exhaling a billowing cloud of smoke. You set the pool stick down.

Caitlyn coughs, fanning her hand in front of her face to try and clear the smoke away from her lungs. It doesn't work very well. “First thing you should know...” She snatches the cigarette from your hand and drops it to the floor. “She hates smokers.” She stomps on the butt to snuff it out.

“So, you’re telling me that I'm a-” You make air quotations with your fingers. “-non-smoker.”

“For now, yes.”

“Alright, alright. No smoking, got it.” You lean your pool cue on the wall. “Happy?”

“Another thing…” She purses her lips, eyes flicking over your features. “Vi mentioned that Jinx… likes pretty girls.”

Silence.

“Are you telling me I'm not pretty?”

Caitlyn jumps as soon as the words leave your mouth. “N-no!” She gestures at you. “You’re pretty. Definitely pretty.”

“Well, that’s reassuring.”

Caitlyn reaches into her pocket, pulling out a thick sheet of paper with a few bullet points written on it. “Anyways… there’s more.” She glances over the list, then looks back up at you. “Jinx likes: …art, drawing, bombs, explosions, tinkering, sweets, plushies, dogs, punk music...” She continues reading down the list. “Dislikes: teachers, school, rules, authority figures, boredom, being told what to do, being ignored…” 

She shoves the list into your hands, and you stare down at the words written in neat, orderly rows. “That's everything that I could get out of Vi.”

A few likes and a bunch of dislikes—what an absolute nutcase.

You look back up at Caitlyn. “So what does that give me? am I supposed to… bribe her with art supplies, draw her a picture, give her some sweets, then blow up a building?”

“Have you ever been to The Last Drop?”

You respond with a nod. You've been there a few times... it's usually filled with shady people, but the alcohol is reasonably priced.

“Letters to Cleo will be playing there tomorrow night.” 

“No.”

“Come on, it's just one night-” Caitlyn coaxes.

“No.”

She gives you a nudge. “Just assail your ears for one night. It's her favorite band, after all.”

It's a stupid idea. Spending your free time in a bar, listening to some god-awful music? It's the perfect recipe for a terrible night.

But if it's what Jinx likes...  “Fine.”

“Atta girl,” Caitlyn grins, clearly satisfied. She pulls out her phone, glancing down at the time as her fingers dance over the screen. “Oh… and I'm throwing a party on Friday night,” she says, looking back up at you. “It's the perfect opportunity.”

You blink. “Opportunity for what?”

“For you to ask out Jinx, of course.”

“…I'll think about it.”

—

Your car pulls up to a stop out front, the engine making a low noise. You step out of the car and start walking towards the entrance when you notice Sevika standing outside.

Sevika looks up, and her lips stretch into a smirk as she sees you. “Ah, my friend,” she greets. “It’s been a while.”

You shake her hand. “It’s good to see you again, Sev.”

Sevika eyes you up, raising an eyebrow in surprise. “Didn't have you pegged for a fan,” she says. “Aren't they a bit too pre-teen belly-button ring for you?”

“Just a fan of a fan,” you reply. 

The door is slightly ajar, and you can faintly make out the music coming from inside.

“Did a blue-haired girl come in by chance?”

Sevika nods towards the door. “Just sent her through. She's with some other gal.”

You nod and head towards the entrance when Sevika calls out to you. “What happened to that girl you brought in last time?”

Ah, right. It has been a few months. “I dunno,” you reply with a shrug. “I just never called her again.”

Sevika chuckles and shakes her head. “That figures.”

You squeeze through the crowded floor and eventually find an open spot at the bar. The music from the stage is so loud you can feel the floor vibrating under your feet.

You flag down the bartender and place an order, then start idly scanning the crowd. You can make out a flash of blue hair, and your gaze lands on Jinx singing along to the chorus of the song.

You rest against the counter and watch Jinx dancing along to the music. She’s happy, and surprisingly, no “attitude” is present—not the usual scowls, or frowns, or cold looks.

Seeing her like this… giddy, with a wide smile and flushed face, makes you find yourself… smiling.

Huh. That’s... something.

—

Jinx, who is thisclose to having her eardrums explode, yells at the top of her lungs, “I NEED AGUA!”

“Sorry, what?” Lux yells over the music.

“I need agua!” Jinx yells again.

“Agua?”

Jinx nods and points to the bar.

“Alright!” Lux yells, but Jinx is already pushing past her through the crowd.

Jinx manages to reach the bar and signals for the bartender. She glances around as she waits, her eyes landing on you a few feet away. 

Shiiit.

Before she can catch your eyes, you look at a random patron nearby, pretending to be looking at something else.

The bartender walks up to Jinx, shouting over the music. “What can I get for you?”

“Two waters,” she responds, casting a glance back in your direction only to find you completely focused on the stage.

The bartender brings out a pair of water bottles from the cooler and sets them on the counter. Jinx fishes out some change and pays, then grabs the water bottles.

She approaches from behind and raps a knuckle on your shoulder. “If you're planning on asking me out again, you might as well do it already.”

Playing dumb, you gesture back at the stage. “Do you mind? you're kind of ruining it for me.”

Jinx seethes, but stays where she is. “You're not surrounded by your usual cloud of smoke.”

The music dies down for a while to give the band a rest, so you no longer have to yell over the music. You turn to face her. “I know. I quit.”

“You... did?” Jinx gives you a weird look, trying to figure out your angle here. “Are you feeling alright?”

That's a pretty fair question, to be honest, because for once in your life, you're actively not trying to flirt with someone.

What's even more weird is that Jinx is actually engaging with the conversation. Jinx moves closer to the stool, standing beside you. “Since when?”

You clear your throat, avoiding her gaze. “Since… yesterday.”

“Yesterday? you quit smoking just yesterday?”

“Just yesterday.”

Jinx looks you up and down. “Why?”

You look over at the band, who are currently changing out their gear. “Because... apparently they're bad for you,” you mumble. With a shrug, you gesture back towards the stage. “They're no Bikini Kill or the Raincoats,” you reply. “But they're alright.”

You step into the crowd, and Jinx is surprised enough to be momentarily stupefied. “Wait-” she sputters before following you. “You know who the Raincoats are?”

You stop in the middle of the crowd, spinning to face her. “Why? don't you?” you ask. “I saw how you were dancing out there. I’ve never seen you look like that...”

“I.. well, I-” she stutters, before clearing her throat and collecting herself. “Yeah, I do,” she replies. “I’m into grunge and punk and stuff. Ever heard of Nirvana?”

You scoff. “Of course. Who hasn’t?”

Jinx laughs, and you resist the urge to smile when you hear it. “Yeah, fair point. What about... Siouxsie and the Banshees?”

“Love them. But you can't tell me you don't know The Damned?”

Jinx's eyes light up at the mention of The Damned. “Hell yeah, they're awesome,” she exclaims, before frowning. “Wait, how do you know The Damned?”

You give yourself a pat on the back. Nailed it. “Excuse you, I have excellent taste in music,” you reply. “How do you know The Damned?”

“I'll have you know, I'm very into music,” she retorts. “I've got a collection of 1300 CDs. Mostly punk and grunge, but some 70s rock and other stuff.”

Her response is a pleasant surprise to you… and maybe attractive. But you squash that thought down because she's Jinx, and no way are you going to feel your heart flutter at anything this woman does.

You whistle. “Only 1,300? That's cute. I have almost 2,000.” 

“No way.” She shakes her head. “No WAY you have 2,000 CDs. You're bluffing.”

“I'm not,” you insist. “I've got 2,000 pieces of music in my home.”

“Damn. You got me beat, then.” She looks around the club, then looks back at you. “Anyway, I gotta-”

“Come to Caitlyn's party with me. Friday night,” you cut her off.

“-Why should I?” 

“-Because I guarantee you'll have a fantastic time.” 

She laughs at your persistence. “You never give up, do you?” she mutters before walking away through the large crowd.

“Was that a yes?” you yell after her.

Her only response is a middle finger held high in the air.

You cup your hands around your mouth. “I'll see you at 9:30 then!”

This is good. Not great, maybe, but not awful either. You didn't get kicked in the face for asking, so you're taking that as a win.

—

“How did it go?”

You tap your fingers on the steering wheel. “Hey, Cait…” you hesitate, glancing around at the empty street. “How much money does it take to buy 2,000 CDs?”

The line goes dead.

…

After a few minutes of silence, it rings again.

“You've got to be kidding me.”

[xxsquiddkiddxx]

Viktor x Reader Headcanons

Pronouns for reader: Gender neutral, AFAB undertones if you squint

Relationship type: Platonic to Romantic

General Idea: Some silly little headcanons I have for Viktor because he's still my silly little princess. Even after the whole glorious evolution thing.

Content Warnings: S1 Viktor, no S2 spoilers, But there as little bit of s2 viktor's mindset, I'm projecting a little bit (a lot) but it's fine.

~☆~

I honestly see Viktor as asexual with light aromantic undertones (kinda like demiromantic, I guess??). He rarely ever developes romantic feelings. Like its a once in a blue moon thing.

Like... he has to know you for YEARS before something in his head is like "Oh... hey they kinda cute?"

However, when he DOES develop feelings that go beyond friendship, Viktor HEAVILY struggles with coming to terms with them. Not in like a "I don't DO feelings" type way, but more in a "Well... no... it could be this" type of way.

Oh, his heart rate speeds up a little bit when you two accidently brush hands? It must just be his nerves.

When he does realize that he has feelings for someone, it's kind of like that scene in Gravity Falls where Dipper is like "It's not like I stay awake at night thinking about Wendy" and it cuts to him laying awake thinking about Wendy XD

If he likes someone romantically, he talks about them a lot. Like as if trying to bring them up as much as he can. Like "Oh (Y/N) mentioned something about that book, said they really liked it" Or "(Y/N) actually said something similar about that topic" If he could yap about you for hours, he probably would.

Even if you're being PAINFULLY obvious about your romantic feelings towards Viktor, he will firmly believe you're just being friendly.

Why he does it is a mix between two things: one is that he's just not awesome with people. And second is that he firmly believes someone like you could never love someone like him back.

One night, Viktor had been constantly working without break, so you practically dragged him to his room by his ear and forced him to get some rest.

Viktor has a strong habit of having his workspace FILLED with old mugs, sometimes days old. He doesn't really mean to, just too wrapped up in Hextech to really notice.

He also struggles with meals too. Just like above, because he literally just gets too wrapped up in his work.

If Viktor actually confesses feelings, it's such an interesting experience. Because he doesn't just flat out say "Hey I have feelings for you". He stumbles over his words and rambles about something random in the middle of it. So you gotta help him out a little bit.

Viktor's love language is quality time. He'll make sure his seat is next to you when it can, he always yaps about what he's uncovered about Hextech.

Speaking of Hextech, if you just sit there and watch him work? He'd about die of happiness on the spot. If you, someone he really loved, took an interest to something he truly loved DOING? Perfect.

He used to get really flustered about physical affection. Like you held his hand one time and he about combusted. He was red in the face for hours. He got better with it overtime, of course. But for the first few months, he was pretty much bright red the whole time.

Dates are rare, neither of you have the time for it. But when you two do have dates of some kind, they're mostly stay at home type things.

You know that thing kids do? Like playing their own separate things together? Parallel play, I think it's called? Yeah you two do that a lot.

Viktor will be reading some papers and you'll be reading a book, your feet in his lap.

Speaking of, Viktor is such a reader omg He doesn't read a lot anymore due to his constant workload, but when he does, he reads a lot of like... old books. The ones with yellowing pages and smell nice? Yeah... those ones!

If you two slept in the same bed, he'd be all like... giggly and nervous the first few times. Just like affection, he'd get used to it. But it's still cute.

When you two are cuddling, run your fingers in his hair. He'll melt right into you regardless of the situation. It's like an instant relax button for him.

Him laying his head on your chest, and you running your fingers through his hair? Something about it just... works. It calms him down a lot and makes him feel at peace.

His favorite place to kiss is the crook of your neck. Especially if you're around his height (he's like... between 5'7 and 5'10. I don't remember exactly).

Or your temples. It's simple, it doesn't attract a lot of attention. And let's be real, it's underrated as hell.

He's not big on PDA, but he'll hold your hand in public. He likes holding onto just one of your fingers, like your pinkie or something like that. It, just like temple kisses, is simple and discreet.

He doesn't often say "I love you". He feels bad about it, but you don't mind. He often says I love you without saying it. Things like holding you while you sleep, kissing your forehead as you two read in each other's arms, weaving your fingers with his while he works.

He gets self-conscious a lot. He thinks you could do a lot better than him and that he's not perfect.

Please kiss this poor boy all over and tell him he's perfect as is 😭😭

~☆~

A/N:The Arcane brainrot has gotten to me... This is how I'm coping with the finale. But I've wanted to write Viktor or Sevika stuff for a HOT minute now. I've been in the Arcane fandom for YEARS (a fanfic writer even longer) but this is my first Arcane fic... wild XD

For more fics: my masterlist!

~Squeed

[castillon02]

Tim reviews Jason's operations management and makes a suggestion.

"Your first move: hire a head of sanitation," Tim said.

"You think a janitor's gonna solve my suddenly-successful-startup problems? What, by sweeping them away?" Jason rolled his eyes.

Tim steepled his fingers. “The good news,” he said, “is that your drug distribution and community norms enforcement hierarchy is very clear. You also have people doing marketing, program management, HR, facilities, and admin. Your system of rotating duties when people get injured isn’t bad—people generally benefit from cross-training—but you should formalize the top positions and compensate your new leadership team. Including sanitation.” 

“Sure, sure, I'll just tell one of my guys their job is to be head shit-scrubber instead of a badass neighborhood protector!" Jason threw up his hands.

Tim raised his eyebrows.

“It’s bad enough getting them to clean up a crime scene when they’re on my literal shit list! A couple of them thought that lighting the building on fire was an easier way to get it to stop smelling bad and having DNA. Guess who had to add five new slides to his powerpoint about evidence disposal?" Jason glared.

Tim grimaced. "I had an intern in the office who thought that he could just throw trash off his desk for the cleaning staff to pick up."

He and Jason shared a commiserating look that silently said, We were both stupid enough to work with the League of Assassins, and even we wouldn't do that.

“Anyway," Tim continued, "since you're dealing with...that...you can just hire an outside party. Lots of people in Gotham know how to clean up dead bodies and keep their mouths shut. I can advertise the position and send you the likeliest candidates for an interview. I’ll have to incorporate you, of course, but I’ve had the paperwork ready since I got back from the Middle East.” 

“Incorporate me?” 

“Red Hood LLC, technically."

Jason's breathing became calculatedly even.

"Once you’re legit in the eyes of the law, we can work on squaring away everyone’s taxes and keep you from getting Capone’d.” 

“I’m as legit as one of Two-Face’s two-dollar bills!” 

“Yeah, but when you’re an LLC, all your crimes are white-collar crimes, and no one cares about those.” Tim shrugged.

“...Pretty sure that’s not how that works, bud.” 

“It’s how the court of public opinion works. And if anyone tries to say that Red Hood, CEO of Red Hood LLC, and Red Hood, notorious vigilante, are the same person? Tell them to prove it. So what if you have the same outfit? It’s a free country and people can wear what they want. And if they ever get your DNA results, Oracle says no they didn't.”

Jason tilted his head and started smiling. "You want Red Hood to be the Scarlet Pimpernel and Percy Blakeney. At the same time."

"The more blatant you are about it, the better. Rub elbows with Gotham's elite and tell them that you can't imagine why someone would let a Crime Alley vigilante ruin their ability to wear a red hood as a fashion statement, but in your company, people have spines. Especially when they're job creators. If you play your cards right, red headgear will be back in fashion."

"And then?"

"And then," Tim's eyes gleamed, "you start selling merch."

"Oh, shit." Jason's smile turned into a full-on smirk.

"On a sliding scale, of course."

"Those nepo babies are gonna pay me so much money to look cool."

Tim smiled. "And that's how hiring a head shit-scrubber is going to mitigate your high growth and cash flow problems."

[lemon-lime-behavior]

Do you have any tips for drawing noses? Sorry this is out of nowhere but I'm wanting to improve on my art, specifically the faces, and it's always the nose I find myself struggling most with.

I really struggle w making it fit the face if that makes sense? Every time I try to add it it just throws the whole face off, especially the eyes, not to mention how to make different nose types and the angles </33

I love your art style so bad, it's so smooth and satisfying to look at and the way you draw noses like it's nbd (and anatomy in general like damn) baffles me so I was just wondering if you maybe had any tricks or not, Ty either way for sharing your art in the first place <33

@extravagav Well I can try! First off thank you very much, I often feel like I still have a very long way to go in regards to proportions and anatomy so I really appreciate your kind words <3

Hokay, so, noses. I do love noses. To start off when it comes to drawing noses I'm afraid I'm going to have to give you the most annoying advice in the world which is just to practice a lot. Find a lot of pictures of noses in a bunch of different shapes from a bunch of different angles and just draw them until your brain melts out of your ears. Pay particular attention though to the nose as a 3D object!

It's of course trickier to do than I'm making it out to be but the more you practice at imagining the nose as a 3d physical form the easier it becomes to make a nose model in your mind that you can rotate like a microwave.

This is my personal very very basic understanding of the nose's construction:

it's like three circles and a taco shell.

Okay so now that you've got a basic understanding of the nose's construction, how to put it in the middle of the god-dang face??

So the funky thing about noses is that they tend to change shape the least out of all our facial features when we're making expressions. Our eyes change shape, our mouths move, our eyebrows, our cheeks, our jaws, they all go all over the place. the nose, however, tends to be pretty stationary and doesn't deform much (save in one important way I'll get to later). So because of all this, and here's my biggest piece of advice when it comes to making the nose fit in the face, I like to draw the nose first! I do a very loose head construction, draw the nose, and then sort of "hang" the rest of the features off of it:

Two very different expressions, same nose!

Now when it comes to noses interacting specifically with the eyes the greatest thing to remember is that the part of the nose that sits between the eyes sticks out farther than you might think, and will likely be obscuring one of them, the extent of which depending a lot on the angle and how pronounced the nose bridge is.

for someone with a pretty flat nose bridge you'll be able to see most of the eye except in a more extreme angle, while someone with a protruding ridge might obscure the eye entirely. but the nose will likely be interacting with at least one eye if we're not facing the character head on. Really making your brain think in 3d is gonna most helpful here.

Finally! The nose being expressive! So the main way the nose plays in to expression is by wrinkling. the muscles that pull up your top lip and the muscles that pull down the middle of your forehead are almost all connected to the nose, so the nose tends to develop a lot of wrinkles whenever brows are furrowed or teeth are bared.

Adding those wrinkles can add a lot of impact in the expression! And not just angry ones neither:

Sooooooooooooooo yeah! noses! They're weird and they come in all sorts of shapes and sizes and they can do a lot to add character to a face and they can also make you want to tear your hair out in big clumps! I'm still learning myself when it comes to noses (and most other things) and I'm faaaar from a master at it, but I hope I've been able to provide at least a little bit of help. If you do use my advice going forward please let me know! Good luck!!!!! (And here's all my nose "headcanons" for the strawhats. The ones who actually have human noses, anyway):

[springwitch8]

flowers and firsts (melissa schemmenti x fem!reader)

summary: being the gracious friend you are, you offer to share your weed with melissa and jacob for a fun friday night at their place. when jacob goes to bed, things get heated between you and your favorite coworker.

warnings: smut (18+), consensual high sex, recreational marijuana use (be responsible), strap-ons, praise kink, vibrators, soft melissa, stoner reader, attempts at comedy (it's a fun fic guys), mario kart 8 GONE SEXUAL

notes: happy 4/20. this wasn't requested, but my OCD is beating the fuck out of me rn and writing it brought me comfort. let me know what you think. much love from your favorite slutty stoner 💚

"i know kids are curious, but eighth grade is a bit early to try weed, right?" jacob bounced his leg anxiously as he raised the question to his friends in the teachers' lounge. one of his students had just been suspended for bringing marijuana to school, and jacob was characteristically worried about the kid.

"i started in tenth grade, but teenagers are growin' up younger and younger these days," melissa responded. barbara raised her eyebrows in shock, and melissa reacted with an amused half-smile. "like trouble over here. when was your first time, hon?"

you tried to ignore the innuendo as melissa invited you into the conversation. you had been hired to teach the third grade a few months ago. you and melissa had a rapport from the first moment you walked into the lounge. every time you were in a room together, you made each other laugh. melissa made you feel at ease in your new workplace, and you felt lucky to have her.

because you both got along so well, ava often paired you up for team-building exercises and combined-class activities. the two of you weren't exactly close friends yet, but you had chemistry. that much was obvious to everyone at abbott.

"tenth grade for me, too," you answered between sips of your morning coffee. "a friend and i did it in the bathroom before art class. good memories."

"what, did you have some kinda fancy vape pen?" melissa cocked an eyebrow at you.

"i wouldn't call it fancy, but yeah, we mostly smoked carts," you explained. "bought 'em from the upperclassmen in the parking lot before school. i'm pretty sure they weren't pure weed, though. we had to be smoking battery acid, or plastic or something."

"god, your generation is weird. smokin' chemicals out of a flash drive," melissa said, gesturing wildly to convey her amazement. "the first time i got high was in detention. my buddy steve would sneak in and bring us cigarettes and blunts. they all looked the same, so we played russian roulette with it. now everybody walks around with those neon devices in their pockets."

"i can't tell if you're being serious or if you're referencing the breakfast club," you giggled, nudging the redhead's shoulder jokingly as you sat down next to her.

"ha ha, very funny, little miss," melissa deadpanned. you had asked her to stop calling you "kid" a few weeks ago. she respected your wishes by coming up with all sorts of endearing synonyms to call you instead. "what about you, jacob? you used to vape—ever experimented with mary jane?"

"or mark john?" you added. melissa snorted and gave you a playful swat on the arm.

"no, actually, i haven't," jacob said, rolling his eyes at your quip. "i didn't have many friends in high school or college, and after that i had to be drug tested regularly for teachers without borders. i never got the chance."

"well, if you ever feel like trying something new, i have plenty to share," you offered. "can't have you over at my place, though; every time i bring guests around, my crazy neighbor thinks they're cia operatives."

everyone in the room except melissa gave you a shocked look. barbara looked especially aghast, her brightly painted lips curled into an 'o' shape.

"damn, i thought janine was the only after-school stoner here. what a pleasant surprise!" ava broke the silence.

"i suppose i would partake given one of those weed pens you mentioned," jacob said to you. "the only thing i've been vaping lately is air, and it gets stale after a while."

"oh no, i haven't used a cart since high school," you clarified. "if you're smoking with me, you're smoking. don't worry, it's easy. just like vaping, but better in every way."

"first of all, no smoke circle is happening under my roof without me." melissa chimed in, looking at you with a silent question in her eyes. you nodded—of course you wanted her there. "and second, where do you even get the weed? if you buy the legal stuff from new york or massachusetts, you're not bringin' it to my house."

"i wouldn't dream of it," you affirmed. "i only smoke authentic philly weed. don't worry about it; i got a guy."

---

that friday night, you showed up on melissa's doorstep wearing a casual t-shirt dress, with a tote bag full of goodies slung over your shoulder. jacob was the one to answer the door.

"hey! come on in, melissa's making pizza," he said cheerfully, a bit jittery with anticipation.

you followed jacob inside and found melissa leaning over the kitchen island, smiling fondly at you. she was wearing sweatpants and a loose-fitting striped shirt, with her hair loose and a bit messy from cooking. she looked radiant and comfortable.

"you know, the pizza will taste better if we smoke before dinner," you proposed.

"bold of you to assume my pizza could taste any better," melissa joked back.

"i'm game," jacob said. "i want the full marijuana experience."

"in that case, help me set up," you said to the history teacher. "i want you to see how everything works."

you laid the contents of your tote bag out on the island countertop: a ziploc baggie full of flower, a little purple grinder, a holographic pink bowl, and a yellow lighter with white flowers on it.

"jacob, this is a grinder," you said, uncapping the grinder and opening the ziploc bag. "we're gonna use it to break up the flower into little pieces."

"oh wow, that is... pungent," jacob remarked. he watched as you ground up the weed, then handed the pink glass bowl to him.

"and this is a bowl, or a pipe if you're lame," you said. "you wanna do the honors?"

jacob grinned and reached into the grinder, bouncing excitedly on his heels. you put a hand on his shoulder to steady him. he filled the bowl, looking to you for approval several times while he did it.

"awesome, we're ready," you said. melissa placed her pizza in the oven and joined the circle.

"let's take it out on the patio," melissa suggested.

she led you and jacob out to the patio, a small ledge overlooking the city with three chairs conveniently set up in a tight circle. it was 7pm and the sun had just begun its descent, casting philadelphia in an orange glow.

the three of you sat down. you held the bowl up to your lips and moved to light it, but melissa snatched the lighter from your hand. she leaned in and held the flame to the bowl, her face inches from yours. you tried to concentrate on the task at hand, rather than her painted lips or her vivid green eyes dancing all over you.

you took a long inhale of the smoke and blew it up toward the sky. melissa plucked the bowl out of your hand and took a hit. she held the smoke in her lungs for an impressive amount of time for someone who didn't smoke regularly. she passed the still-lit bowl to jacob.

as soon as jacob took his hit, you knew it was gonna hurt. he overestimated his own lung capacity, and he didn't even finish blowing the smoke out before he was coughing.

"happens to everybody, pal," melissa patted jacob's back to ease his pain.

"ugh!" jacob sputtered between coughs. "why didn't you guys tell me smoking hurts?"

---

several rotations later, the three of you were high. well, you and melissa were high; jacob was outright fried. not altogether unexpected, but funny as hell.

when melissa's pizza was done, you all resolved to eat outside so you could watch the sunset together.

"this is heavenly, mel," you moaned after a delicious bite of the pizza.

"ha!" jacob exclaimed, and you and melissa turned to him, confused. meeting melissa's gaze, he threw his arms up in the air—like he expected her to understand what he meant by that one noise. "she stole two syllables from your name. you can't just take syllables, y/n. they're not yours."

"since when do you care about private property rights?" you quipped back before turning your attention to melissa. "i'm serious though. this pizza is sooo good. like last-meal-on-death-row good."

"keep talkin' sweet like that, and you can call me whatever you want," melissa replied with a wink, sending a flood of warmth to your face.

"what were we talking about? just now?" jacob chimed in, his eyes wide and darting every which way.

"... i actually don't know," you said with a giggle. you tried to remember, you really did. but you could feel melissa's eyes on you, and you heard her words echoing in your head. and it was hard to focus on anything else.

"short term memory loss! add that to the list of things you guys didn't warn me about," jacob scoffed.

"jacob, eat your damn pizza," melissa cut in. a peaceful smile graced her lips as she stared out at the city skyline, now a twilight blue in the absence of the sun. "i've missed this feeling, everythin' all fuzzy and light. how are you holding up, lovebug?"

your heart fluttered at the endearing name. melissa, it seemed, wore her heart on her sleeve when she was high—judging by the adoring way she gazed at you while she awaited your response. maybe the weed was messing with your head, but you swore she'd never looked so beautiful.

her eyes lacked any trace of the fire you were used to seeing (though they were quite red). for once, she wasn't on guard. her plump lips curled around her wine glass as she took a sip of merlot, vocalizing her sensual appreciation with a hum.

her long auburn hair was tucked behind her ears, resting on her shoulders in loose waves instead of her preferred meticulous curls. you wanted to run your fingers through her locks, feel their softness and smell her shampoo.

entranced by the redhead, you forgot she had asked you a question. melissa tapped your knee in reminder.

"i feel perfect," was your soft reply. you were beaming brightly before the sentence even finished. rather than sitting in a chair, you felt like you were floating on a cloud. the colors of melissa's patio and the sky blended together in a beautiful, swirling mosaic. the sounds of the city were clear and pleasant as philly wound down for the night. "i'm so happy."

"glad to hear it, sunshine. but i'm pretty sure jacob is asleep," melissa chuckled and patted the man's shoulder. he didn't stir, remaining slumped and conked out in his chair. "he's been losin' sleep over the kid who got suspended. bending over backwards trying to keep 'em on track."

"oh gosh," you said sympathetically before patting jacob a bit more firmly than melissa had. "jacob, hey. c'mon, it's time for bed. get up, go get cozy."

your words were slurred and hushed, but they seemed to pierce the veil of jacob's slumber as he awoke with a start.

melissa stood behind jacob's chair, gently rocking it back and forth to bring him back to the conscious world.

"can't go to bed, we just started," jacob grumbled, but his eyes were still closed. he was dangerously close to falling asleep again.

"from the looks of it, you're either gonna spend the night sleepin' in this chair or in your bed, so get up," melissa said resolutely.

"yeah, and besides, there's always next time," you assured jacob as he stretched and groaned his way into an upright position. you made eye contact with melissa, and this time you winked.

---

after helping jacob into bed (his motor skills really deteriorated when he got high) and smoking another bowl together, you and melissa were ready to continue your night.

"alright, sweetheart, it's down to you and me," melissa said, sitting down next to you on the couch. "what do you wanna do?" you pondered the question, looking around the room for inspiration.

"oh my god, you have a nintendo switch?" you asked excitedly, gesturing to the black tablet plugged in next to the cable box.

"that's jacob's. he showed me one of the games on there—animal crossing, i think it was. i don't get it. why play a game if you can't win?"

"alright, i know what we have to do now," you said, walking over to jacob's game cabinet and pulling out mario kart 8. holding the case up for melissa to see, you grinned. "four races. whoever wins gets whatever she wants from the other."

you were distantly aware of the implications, but you were too high to reconsider what you'd proposed.

you figured melissa would want something from your thoroughly decorated classroom if she won. if you won, you'd ask her to make you a custom pizza.

"you have no idea what you just started, hon," melissa said with a confident smirk.

"may the best woman win."

---

how the hell was she so good at everything?

melissa had needed some time to warm up to the switch controls, complaining about how the little red rectangle was too small to hold comfortably. but she was a quick learner with skilled fingers, and soon she was absolutely demolishing you.

it also didn't help that your coordination escaped you when you were high. you had driven off of too many ledges to count.

"two wins in a row for luigi," melissa bragged as she crossed the finish line of the third race. "hope you're ready to give me whatever i want, princess. don't think i forgot about our bet."

"daisy won the first race," you pointed out calmly. "i can still bring it back. but you know what this last race has to be?"

"what?"

"rainbow road. it's the perfect final showdown course," you explained, navigating to the course with your controller.

"get ready to be mine for a night," melissa said lowly. god, you knew she was talking about the bet, but she knew damn well what she was doing. by this point your panties were almost uncomfortably wet.

you leaned into her unconsciously as the race countdown began. you both held your controllers tight, almost shoulder to shoulder.

3...

2... (you push down the gas pedal button)

1...

GO!!!

daisy took off with a boost of speed thanks to your timing. luigi had a false start as his engine blew out. you cheered, and melissa cursed.

"how the fuck do you do that?" she asked, exasperated.

"play the game!" you demanded without looking away from the screen.

the competition was intense. you and melissa weaved around curves, nearly fell off the road, passed and bumped each other. neither one of you spoke until lap 3.

coming up on one of the last turns of the last lap, your hands jerked and you swerved. reacting on instinct, you bent your arms dramatically in the other direction to overcorrect.

melissa's arm bumped into yours, sending your controller flying out of your hands.

"hey!" you said, thinking she was cheating.

"hey yourself," she said, her eyes still fixed on the screen.

if she was gonna play dirty, so were you. you thrust your arm forward to grab her controller. but she saw you coming from a mile away. effortlessly, she shifted the controller into her left hand alone and held it up and out of your reach.

desperately competitive (and stupid high), you launched yourself toward the controller. you'd stop at nothing to get even. before you could snatch it out of her grasp, though, your balance faltered. you fell out of your position and started to fall backwards off the couch.

melissa dropped the controller and wrapped her arms around you, pulling you back up before you could hurt yourself. there was only one problem with this heroic act.

you were in her lap now.

her hands remained clasped at the small of your back, and your balance shifted forward. you put your arms out for stability, and wrapped them around her neck.

"careful, don't hurt your pretty head," melissa cooed. the two of you stared at each other for a moment. she surged forward and pressed her lips to yours.

if sitting outside with her felt like floating, kissing her and feeling her body against yours felt like riding the ocean waves. but unlike the atlantic, she was warm. you relaxed into her warmth as her tongue licked into your mouth.

you felt her tongue everywhere. in response to her, you gave a few tentative kitten licks. she moaned, she moaned, and pulled back before giving you one last kiss on the lips.

she stared at you with heated eyes for a while before switching her focus to the tv.

"look, baby," she said smugly while gesturing to the tv screen, where luigi was driving victory laps after placing first on rainbow road. "i won. you remember what that means?"

it was a fair question, considering how many conversations you forgot happened tonight. still, you nodded shyly and bit your lip.

"smart girl," melissa praised. "can you guess what i want from you?"

you shook your head no with a frown. melissa beamed and kissed you on the forehead. then she leaned in to whisper in your ear.

"i wanna touch you everywhere. i wanna hear your pretty voice moan my name and see your face scrunch up when you come. i want you to feel me all over you, and i want you to spend the rest of your life craving that feeling," melissa said her piece all at once, as if revealing a long-buried secret to you and herself.

you swallowed.

"would you let me do that?"

you nodded, pressing your forehead against hers.

"i need to hear you say it," she said softly, so softly you almost missed it.

"i want you, melissa. i have since the day we met."

that was all the confirmation melissa needed to attack your face and neck with kisses.

"sorry, let me just," melissa said as she pulled away abruptly and reached for the tv remote. she changed it to cable mode and navigated to the jazz music channel. "there we go, perfect."

"you're ridiculous," you giggled upon seeing melissa's proud face.

"honey," she leaned in to nip at your ear before whispering, "watch your mouth. you wanna be on my good side tonight, trust me."

you shuddered and wiggled in her lap, aching for her touch. a slow grin spread across her face and her hands found your legs, running up your thighs and lightly dragging her nails along your skin. they soon made their way up your waist to your breasts, cupping and squeezing them. melissa even took two fingernails and circled your nipples teasingly, to which you squeaked.

"do you know how many times i thought about havin' you like this?" melissa whispered. her voice was sweet like molasses and flowed right through you. you could feel your nipples tingling where her fingers had been, swimming in a bubble of desire. "in my lap, all whiny and squirmy."

she pinched your nipple and you keened. you held your breath as her hands once again traveled to your thighs, making a beeline for your core.

"and now i got my angel in my arms," she said, gently spreading your legs for better access. you sucked in a breath and trembled when her palm caressed you through your panties. "but i gotta say, even in my imagination you were never this wet for me."

she punctuated the sentence by pressing her pointer finger on your clit through the fabric, drawing tiny circles. you gasped and hid your face in her neck. the high made every touch feel like it rippled through your whole body. the world felt like it had been knocked off its axis, and melissa was your new center of gravity.

"aw, don't be embarrassed, babygirl. it's cute you're so sensitive," melissa soothed, easing you out of the crook of her neck to face her again. she trailed her fingers down to swirl around your wetness under your panties. "let me take care of you, yeah?"

---

a few minutes later, you were spread out on melissa's bed, naked save for your (now useless) panties. she'd practically carried you to her room as you were baked and horny and unable to walk straight.

in spite of your writhing and needy whines, the redhead took her time to savor you. she kissed every inch of your torso before she even considered taking your panties off, mumbling sweet nothings between love bites.

when she finally pulled away to admire her work, the view did not disappoint. you were panting and covered in melissa's marks, and god, you were her favorite piece of art ever created. all hers.

"alright, sweet girl, i know," she cooed as you continued to plead for her touch with your best pout and puppy eyes. unable to resist you, melissa hooked two fingers in the waistband of your panties. "i'm gonna slip these off ya, okay? there, down they go."

melissa discreetly tucked the saturated material into her pocket. not as a trophy or proof of her conquest; rather, a token from the first of many magical nights with her girl. she would treasure it.

she wasted no time getting situated between your legs so she was face-to-face with your pussy. she inhaled deeply, basking in the heady aroma of your arousal. you overwhelmed her senses. everything she saw, everything she smelled, everything she felt, everything she thought—it was all one big, bottomless pool of you. and there was only one sense left for you to conquer.

the first drag of her tongue up your slit set you ablaze, flames licking from your core all the way to your extremities and your head. she let out a small noise of appreciation, and you felt it more than you heard it.

"you taste like fuckin' heaven," melissa rumbled between determined licks through your folds. her comment reminded you of the pizza, and you found yourself amused at how much things had changed in just a few hours.

"last-meal-on-death-row good?" you joked, and melissa seized the moment of levity to latch onto your clit. you cried out before remembering jacob was sleeping in the next room. you clapped a hand over your mouth.

"mhmmmmm," she moaned in agreement, and the vibrations on your bundle felt incredible. "but if you're still crackin' jokes, i'm not doin' my job."

with that, she shut you up completely. her tongue poked at your clit between harsh sucks. your back arched and melissa changed her strategy, prodding at your entrance with her tongue while her fingers took over on your clit. when her tongue penetrated you, you bit down on your hand to keep from screaming.

"i said i wanna hear you, remember?" melissa pulled out to chastise you.

"but jacob—" you managed.

"is passed out. he's dead to the world. now sing for me, angel," melissa's tongue dove back into your weeping cunt and lapped at your walls. you wailed her name.

"oh, mel, right—ahhh—there!" you mewled as her tongue teased your most sensitive spot. now that she'd located her target, melissa changed her play once again. two fingers replaced her tongue and crooked into your g-spot while her mouth returned to your clit. "close..."

melissa nodded her permission, her mouth busy with your button. with another hard roll of your clit between her lips and drive of her fingers into your sweet spot, you fell apart. you moaned and cried unbidden as she worked you through your orgasm, which felt twice as powerful thanks to the intoxication factor. your body shook in the grip of seemingly endless waves of heat.

your climax eventually died down and you squirmed away from melissa's touch. your mouth opened in dismay when instead of staying by your side, she stood up and disappeared into her closet.

after a short while, the older woman reappeared by your side. she was now nude and sporting a long, girthy strap-on. she placed a few other items on the nightstand, but you couldn't tear your eyes away from the thick faux cock. unless it was to look at her gorgeous tits, which swung with her every move. she was a goddess.

"okay, sweets, i'm gonna spell this out nice and slow because i know your brain is a little messy right now," she said as she crawled on top of you. "i'm gonna fuck you with my strap. and i know it's so big, but i have this to help you take it."

melissa reached over to the nightstand and retrieved a green mini wand vibrator. her intentions were clear, and you gulped. the redhead peppered kisses all over your face in reassurance.

"now relax, little love. let me in," melissa instructed as the wand buzzed to life. she smeared your wetness around your clit with her fingers, then pulled back its hood to position the vibrator tightly against your nub. even the lowest setting was a shock at such a direct angle.

while you were distracted trying to adjust to the clitoral stimulation, melissa aligned the tip of the dildo with your entrance and pushed in. you both groaned, and you felt yourself stretch around the toy. melissa turned up the vibrations on your clit as she progressed to being fully seated inside you.

"that's a good girl, so brave," melissa cooed. you thrashed underneath her, the sensations overstimulating you. the pain of the intrusion staved off a powerful orgasm from the wand vibrator.

again, you wondered if the drugs were messing with your mind—the dildo felt indistinguishable from a part of mel's body, and you were full to the brim of her.

as she began to rock her hips back and forth, you saw her bite her lip. you assumed that the strap had some kind of clit attachment for her based on the telltale signs of pleasure.

melissa built up a steady rhythm and drank in your pathetic sounds of pleasure. her tits swung in your face with every thrust, and you made a mental note to give them proper attention next time. with another tactical increase to the wand's speed, you felt yourself approaching the edge once more.

"you gettin' close? yeah, i can tell. feels too good to hide it, huh bunny?" that was a new one. you clenched at her words and she set the wand to its maximum power, rubbing it up and down on your clit. your vision went white and you spun out of reality as you came. "that's my girl. good little princess, coming so hard for me."

with a few more thrusts, melissa also came to a release. she shuddered and shimmied her hips at random while she rode it out. as soon as she recovered, she turned off the green wand and relieved you. next, she eased herself out of and off of you.

with a chaste peck to your lips, she sat upright and reached for the nightstand. she smiled at your fucked-out expression as she laid out the pajamas she'd picked out for you.

you watched in awe as she took off the strap and put on her own sleep clothes. her red hair was wild from the night's activities and glowed like a warm hearth against the white backdrop of her walls.

in your state, you wanted nothing more than to cuddle up with melissa and fall asleep. but she insisted that you get ready for bed so that you'd be comfortable through the night. she guided you into the bathroom and gave you a new toothbrush to use.

returning to the bedroom, you found a silky green nightgown with flowers on it waiting on the bed for you. given your exhausted and intoxicated state, melissa had to help you into it. neither of you minded. as a reward for your cooperation, she gave you a kiss.

the two of you snuggled into bed, tucked in together with you curled up against her chest. the tides of slumber lapped at your feet.

"g'night, lovebug," melissa whispered as you drifted off. "sleep well. see you in the morning."

and tomorrow would be the first of a lifetime of tomorrows waking up in her arms.