#in a lil handbook he had

[beardedjoel]

new habits

part two of new addiction | part one 

boss!joel x f!reader one-shot collection

summary: you can’t place the emotion - is joel miller guilty for the rendezvous you two had in his office? you soon get an answer in the form of  another late night visit with him.

warnings: 18+! MDNI! non-apocalypse au, boss!joel is a lil mean but not too mean, oral sex (f recieving), dirty talk, unprotected piv, fingering, cum play, squirting, size kink kinda, panty stealing, daddy kink (my hand slipped i swear)

word count: 5.1k

a/n: hellooooo back with another part for boss!joel and reader, i got literally one request for another part and was like yep i’m not tired of them yet at ALL so here we go! time to get more depraved with my fav manager

If you didn’t know any better, it would seem like Joel Miller was avoiding you. 

The day after what you’ve been referring to as the incident (the most mind blowing incident) he hadn’t even stopped by the office, spending the entire day out at the construction sites. That was a Friday, so the entire weekend you pined, plotted, and over thought the whole thing. Could it be possible that Joel - the same Joel who had gladly and enthusiastically spit right into your mouth for fuck’s sake - was feeling guilty? He certainly hadn’t seemed it when his cock was shoved so deep in your pussy you could’ve seen stars, so what the hell gives now?

Monday came, and Joel breezed into the office in his typical manner, too busy for anything other than a quick “morning” to you all, grumbling that “there’d better be coffee made” before working on scheduling and blueprints in his office for a few hours. 

Just having him so close by, your desk mere feet from his office door, makes your skin buzz. Knowing the things you did in there, the depths of your depravity with him that nobody else in the room could even dream about, makes you wild. You realize halfway through the day you’re practically soaking your panties with just your thoughts alone. You really could stand to get it together, you think as you sneak into the break room for a cup of tea, hoping the calming drink could take your mind off of things. 

Suddenly the exact opposite is happening when Joel enters the room, sidling up next to you at the counter, fixing to pour himself a cup of coffee. For a few moments just the potent, rich smell of it hangs in the air between you two and Joel clears his throat a little. 

“How was your weekend, doll?” he asks quietly, and when you glance at him in semi-shock, he has a knowing smirk on his face. He’s enjoying this, he knows he’s been making you squirm for days, and is testing your patience.

“Was alright. I had a lot to think about,” you reply, and Joel snorts a tiny chuckle out. 

“I’ll bet,” he replies, and before you can even return the favor to ask him about his weekend, his hand is around the mug handle and he’s leaving the room. 

He doesn’t interact with you for the rest of the day. 

You’re practically fuming as you walk to your car after work, not having heard much else from Joel other than the things he was telling everyone in your vicinity, from upcoming projects to a few housekeeping items he needed done around the office this week. The only respite you’d had was when his eyes lingered slightly on you, legs crossed and stretching out gracefully from your short dress. His gaze had raked over your body in a quick, ravenous glance, and that one look could’ve eaten you alive with how much power was behind it. Only a flash of the man you’d met that night, that was all you got for now. 

You don’t know what to do from here. Are you supposed to wait for another note? Or did your last secret rendezvous mean that it was free game to pay him a visit any time you wanted as well? You had a feeling the former was more his style, wanting to be in control, to have the upper hand here. You sigh as you grip the wheel on the way home, knowing there isn’t exactly a handbook for the perfect way to have a secret affair with your boss. 

When Wednesday comes around, with Tuesday having had almost the same outcome, you’re practically seething, ready to confront him privately and figure out just what the hell is going on in that twisted mind of his. If he likes playing games, fine, you’d just like to at least be clued into them so you can get some enjoyment from the chase of it all. 

Your phone pings in the middle of the workday, and your lips part in shock as you glance down at the screen and see words that make the blood rush inside your ears and your heart jump. A new message from Joel Miller. You’d completely forgotten you’d even saved his number on your first day of work, him claiming he wanted every employee to have it for emergencies. And you have to wonder if what he messaged you for truly was, well, an emergency, just of a different nature. A sly smile creeps onto your lips as you read the words on your screen. 

Joel Miller: Feeling awful stressed today. Meeting after fuckin meeting. Think you could help me out with that, babydoll? 

Your fingers go flying, not caring just how desperately quick you’re texting him back, all the anger brewing inside of you at him quickly forgotten. 

You: Whatever you need from me boss ;)

Joel Miller: How about some pretty photos of you to ease my pain

You swallow hard, sneaking off the bathroom, your heartbeat pounding against your chest as if every single person in this office can read your mind and knows what you’re about to do. You lock yourself inside a stall and try to think quickly of what Joel would want to see from you.

You pull the backside of your dress up, showing off the curve of your ass adorned by a cheeky, red lace set of panties and try to angle your phone in a way that will capture the sexy essence you’re going for, feeling absolutely ridiculous with the way you’re contorting your body to try to get the shot. Next, you put a foot up on the toilet seat and try to get an upskirt shot, placing your free hand dangerously close to your pussy, letting the fingers rest comfortably, spread out along your thigh teasingly. 

Fuck. Yes. You’re surprised at just how well the photos turned out given your time constraint and shaky hands. You’ve taken a few photos like this before, but something about these, knowing they’re going to Joel, your heart flutters with anticipation as you queue them up with a message for him.

You: Hope these help until you can get the real thing

When you exit the stall with a shaky breath and return to your desk, he hasn’t answered yet, and you assume with good intentions that he’s just in a meeting, not ignoring your absolutely perfect nudes you’ve sent over.

You tap your foot impatiently, trying to get some work done, when your phone lights up next to you, alerting you to a message.

Joel Miller: So dirty baby. Need to get my hands on that perfect ass

You decide on a bold whim to leave him hanging, let him stew without a response from you to egg him on, only the photos.

Joel’s appearance in the office later that evening shows just how long he felt his day was - his tie askew, the knot partially pulled down to give his neck some room to breathe, and hair mussed from running his hands through it too many times. In some perverted little way, you find the sight of him looking so rough exciting. The more stressed Joel is, the more likely he’ll need to lean on you tonight. When your life got this pathetic, you don’t know, but you have a feeling you could trace it back to the first time you laid eyes on Joel Miller.

He walks through the space, saying quick goodnights to a few of his employees that are finishing up for the day, claiming he forgot something at the office when he went out for his meetings earlier. As he reaches to pass your desk, your heart jumps into your throat, and suddenly it’s so dry you can barely swallow. 

An imperceptible nod. That’s all he gives you when he passes, but it says everything you need to know. He needs you tonight. 

You wriggle in your seat, the dull ache of arousal coming to your attention between your legs as you start to anticipate Joel’s advances being focused on you in just a few short moments. You impatiently wait out everyone else in the office, practically jumping out of your chair at the last of your coworker’s departures.

Shoulders back. Deep breath. Exude confidence.

The silent chant moves through your thoughts as you approach Joel’s office door and poke your head in the small space where the door was left cracked, slowly pushing it open as you enter. The sight that awaits you, Joel sitting back in his office chair, legs spread, as if inviting you to his lap, makes your knees want to quake.

He hasn’t said a word yet, so you choose not to either, taking careful, bordering on feline-like steps around his desk to where he sits. You swing your leg over him delicately, spreading yourself wide as you settle onto his lap, straddling him. He instantly groans at the pressure of your warm body on him, as if that was all he needed in the world to satisfy him.

“Dressed up today, huh? I kinda like it,” you say, wrapping your fingers around the tie and pulling slightly, nudging his head a bit closer to yours.

“Client meetings for a big project, hate wearin’ this shit,” he grumbles. He reaches up to loosen his tie and pull it off over his head, tossing it on the floor next to his chair.

His lips find your neck, but he’s more reserved today, already knowing he has you right where he wants you. His lips graze the skin lightly, sending shiver after shiver of goosebumps over your body. Playful light kisses press onto the sensitive skin over and over, Joel’s tongue flicking out every so often to taste you even deeper. 

“Smell so fuckin’ good, all a man needs after a day like mine, swear,” he says gruffly, barely pulling off of your neck, taking a deep breath of the perfume you’d put on just for him, every single day since you started working here.

“You can talk to me, y’know. What I’m here for, all to take care of you. I’m whatever you need,” you say huskily, already lost in all the touch he’s delivering. He simply lets out a small hum of satisfaction, running his large, rough hands along your back, feeling the curve of it as you arch into his touch.

“That make you all wet, babydoll? Wantin’ that pussy to get all used up by me when I need you?” His lips are on you the second his sentence finished, sucking on your neck lightly before tracing up to your earlobe and lightly taking it between his lips.

“Yes, Mr. Miller,” you reply, barely a hushed whisper. You mewl quietly at his lips’ various movements on you, drawing your hips down onto his lap, trying to find any sense of relief. The dull ache from earlier has been replaced quickly with a full on throbbing on your sensitive clit, making you feel wild with need for him.

“Mmm, so polite, sweetheart. Weren’t so polite earlier, were you? Takin’ naughty photos in the bathroom for me.”

You blush under his words and his gaze, unable to control the slightly burning creeping onto your cheeks at the thought of you taking those photos for him earlier. It had felt wrong, contorting and perching yourself just right to get a photo to help fulfill his little fantasies, and you loved every minute of it.

“Liked what you saw?” you ask, your hips starting to grind absentmindedly against his center.

“Y’know I did,” he says, hands sliding to your ass, pulling you closer so that your movements get more friction. You can feel yourself seeping through your panties already, probably about to soak the front of him at any moment. “Such a tease, those little photos, thought ‘bout ‘em all day.”

“What did you think about, huh? What got you through the day?” you whisper melodically in his ear, trying to be the soothing presence for him that you desire so badly to be.

Joel chuckles, deep and throaty. “Little slut, want to hear me talk about how I love your pussy so bad, don’t you? Thought about it all fuckin’ day, could barely hear a word in those damn meetings.”

“That’s what I wanted to hear,” you purr, hips grinding a little harder, and you let out a breathy sound. You pinch your lips together, suddenly feeling slightly embarrassed at just how shamelessly you’re moving yourself against him. At the least you’re comforted by the fact that you can feel his hard length straining against his jeans as you rub against him, meaning he’s enjoying this just as much.

“Go on, don’t be shy,” Joel says, looking down in between you at the way you’re moving on him. “Kept you waiting a long time, didn’t I, babydoll? Needin’ this cock again so badly.”

You nod as you look at him with heady eyes starting to glaze over with need. “Thought you didn’t need me anymore. Wanted to do my good little job for you.” You whine with a pout, your voice is a low pitched hush, head buried in his shoulder as you continue to get yourself off.

“Doin’ so good, waitin’ on me every moment in case I need ya,” Joel says, and you’re embarrassingly close to climaxing, your soaked panties rubbing perfectly against your clit as you grind on his jeans, the firmness of his cock pressing deliciously against your folds.

“I’m- I’m close…” you whimper.

Joel chuckles again, clearly amused at just how easy it is for you to lose yourself to him. His hands move from where they’ve been kneading your ass through your dress to your hips, and he grips tightly, lifting you up. Your hips grind out into nothing, and you groan loudly at the unexpected interruption in your quickly approaching bliss.

“N-no, Mr. Miller, I- please -” Your entire body shudders down with the loss of the coming climax, your insides feeling like they’re clawing to get the sensation out, but with nothing there to edge it forward, you’re lost. You sigh in desperation, reaching to grip his shoulders and pull yourself back down.

“Nuh-uh, sugar,” Joel tuts with a devious glint in his eye. “Playin’ with you will make me feel better, isn’t that what you want?”

Your entire body shakes as you nod yes, and Joel smirks happily. “Good girl,” he says, “Now what to do with you…” He looks you over, his eyes roaming over your tits now starting to spill out of the top of your dress with the way you’d been rubbing against him, moving the fabric.

“You like dressin’ like a little whore for me, don’t you, havin’ your tits out and everything,” he says, releasing your hips to palm both of them, squeezing them upwards, testing the weight in his hands. 

“Want to give you something fun to look at at work,” you say with a little giggle, which Joel returns with his own gruff chuckle.

“Y’sure do,” he concludes, tearing the dress down to reveal your chest to him, and he hisses through his teeth, seeing your bare tits bounce out at him.

“Knew you’d look so perfect,” he practically growls out, immediately going for one of your nipples, rolling it between his fingers. You let out a gasp, your hips defying all logic and moving of their own accord, grinding down on him again as your back arches.

“Lemme taste you, that’ll make daddy feel so much better,” Joel says, eyes transfixed on the way he’s playing with your nipples and your body’s eager reactions to it. You’re not even sure he realizes the new shift in dynamic he’s just introduced, the words flowing out of him so naturally.

“Yes, daddy, taste me, taste me,” you say, echoing him without a second thought. You weren’t sure where it came from, but whatever gets Joel off seems to get you off, if you’re honest. Your cunt is aching beyond control now, the throbbing bordering on painful now, your breath hitching at the thought of his tongue licking the increasingly sensitive spot.

“Be good and get on up there, then,” Joel commands, nodding towards the desk. You sit on the edge, legs dangling and spreading open for him. “All the way back,” Joel corrects, grabbing at your hips and scooting you himself, then placing a hand on your chest and pushing back, so that you eventually end up laying down completely. Joel hovers over you, playing with the hem of your dress, slowly pulling it up. 

You writhe and wriggle, strangled little cries coming out of your mouth, unable to take the anticipation anymore.

“Joel…” you whine.

“Haven't even started yet and you’re callin’ my name,” he laughs before his fingers reach the band of your underwear, sliding a finger along it. You cry out again when his finger brushes further down on your mound. You want to slam your fists onto the desk in pure desire-fueled frustration, but you refrain, showing Joel how eager you are by movements and twists of your hips.

When he finally pulls your panties down, the cool air touching your bare sex, you sigh a bit of relief at the coming pleasure. 

“Didn’t get to ‘preciate this ‘nuff the last time, sugar,” Joel muses. “Bet you taste so sweet too… fuckin’ divine…” One of his fingers swipes through your slit and you gasp, peering up at him as you watch him slide it through several times to your entrance, gathering as much slickness as he can. He slides the finger into his mouth, tasting it almost pornographically, groaning in pleasure before popping it out.

“Was right, y’know. Ever tasted yourself, babydoll?” Joel asks with an enticing lick of his lips, like he needs to clean every bit of you off that he can.

“N-no, I haven’t,” you answer, too stunned by his behavior and your distractingly aching pussy to think of anything witty to retort.

“Oh, you’re missin’ out,” he coos before repeating the same motions on your pussy, every time he brushes the sensitive bud of your clit it’s own tiny form of torture. He leans over your body, his shiny, slick finger reaching towards your mouth. 

“Don’t make me hav’ta ask,” he warns, and you sit up on your elbows and part your lips alluringly, allowing his finger to slide right in. You suck hard with a swirl of your tongue, hoping it emulates the way your mouth had felt on his cock just a few days ago. It seems to do the trick, Joel’s smile growing into a devious smirk as he groans a little.

“This fuckin’ mouth,” he says with a shake of his head, letting his finger linger a few moments longer, pumping it in and out of your mouth in slow strokes. “Such a pretty mouth, but does such dirty things for me, doesn’t it?”

You nod for him before Joel pulls his finger out of your mouth and moves back to position himself between your legs.

“Legs up, just like that,” Joel says, manually lifting your legs so that your knees are bent with your feet flat on the desk, legs immediately falling open for him. He takes a long pause to look at your completely exposed cunt, a burning look of desire in his eyes.

“Poor baby, ain’t ya? So wet and ready with no cock inside ya to ease the pain. You achin��� for daddy’s cock, sugar?” Joel delivers a swift slap to your pussy that sends your hips lurching forward for a moment before he laughs. 

Asshole, you think with a little rush of desire. But this absolute asshole is about to make you come, so you decide against saying anything of the sort.

“Mhm,” you say instead. “Need you to use me and fuck yourself better, daddy.” Joel nearly snarls at the nickname leaving your mouth, starting to undo his belt as he lowers his head in between your legs. One hand is gripping onto your thigh while the other steadily works to free his cock from his pants, palming it tightly as his mouth licks a long strip up your pussy. His fingers dip inside of you gathering up your arousal before he brings it down to his cock, spreading it along the lengthy shaft. He moans into your cunt as he licks, beginning to stroke himself as he tastes you. 

You’ve never been treated like this before, like Joel is a man hungry for his last meal as he ravenously slurps and licks up every bit of arousal that keeps pouring out for him. His enthusiastic yet gruff reactions and noises start a vicious cycle - you’re so turned on by it that you’re getting impossibly wet, and in turn, Joel laps it up like he’s never tasted anything better in his life. It brings you close to the brink faster than you’d expected, another high quickly building low in your stomach. The tingling sensation starts to overtake every one of your senses and you let out a moan low and deep from your throat.

“Oh, Joel, p-please, I’m so close…” you murmur, your head rolling wildly on the desk as his tongue flicks on your clit and then sucks for a few pulses. “Daddy…” you whimper, and the guttural noise he makes is indescribable before he pulls off of you completely. You cry out, feeling tears start to form in your eyes at the injustice he’s been serving on your pussy tonight.

“Let daddy play with you a bit, it’s half the fun,” he says, and you can hear the smirk in his voice, and it instantly adds to your frustration just how much he’s getting off on this. The sound of his hand slapping against his own flesh comes and goes, and he seems to be bringing himself close to climaxing along with you.

He brings you back to the edge again moments later with just the lightest flicks of his tongue right on your clit, and as he senses your entire body tensing he stops again, leaving a desperate moan to die out in your throat as you’d nearly reached the throes of ecstasy again.

“Please… I’m begging you, it’s too much, Joel,” you whine. Your whole body is starting to tremble, your hips squirming along the surface of your desk from the throbbing of your swollen, aching heat just wanting him to give you release.

“Little longer, babydoll, be a good girl and keep begging me,” Joel replies.

“Please, let me come, I’ll do anything,” you say, your frown deepening despite the way that you’re also getting off on this, maybe just as much as him. You’ve never had someone give you so much careful, specialized attention like this - taking the time to make you feel this insanely turned on and desperate for them. 

Joel puts his face between your legs again while you let whispers of your continued begging along with his name pass your lips over and over until he edges you one more time and you nearly scream, letting out a choked back moan for him instead.

“Music to my ears,” Joel chuckles, and you breathe heavily, then peer down at him with your slick covering his face from the way he’s been indulging himself repeatedly on your pussy and you feel yourself clenching, nearly reaching your climax from the sight of him like that alone.

You nearly feel like passing out at this point, your breathing so erratic and body so overstimulated that you nearly can’t take it anymore when Joel returns to his former position, but this time inserting two fingers, stretching you as he scissors them apart while his tongue works on your clit. You cry out a furious whimper, your body bordering on madness as you feel Joel push deep inside of you with his fingers before pressing right on the perfect, spongy part inside that has your eyes rolling back.

“H-holy shit,” you blurt out, the tension coiling deep in your belly quickly as Joel presses over and over while he works his tongue on your abused clit. His other hand pushes down low on your belly, only increasing the sensation of everything and you’re panting, wild, incorrigible sounds flying out of your mouth.

“Don’t stop, please, please, don’t… let me come this time, I can’t take it anymore,” you manage to say as your body tumbles towards a cliff, your insides clawing for release and escape from this heavenly torture he’s put putting you through. Joel doesn’t stop this time, but intensifies everything - his fingers, his mouth, his warm, large palm pushing down on the bottom of your stomach.

You scream over and over, barely registering the sheer volume of the sound leaving your mouth as you gush and spasm onto him, the tether to reality snapping as you're transported to another place for a few moments, your vision going dark as you squeeze your eyes shut in pure bliss. You’re coming so hard that it seems like it’s never ending, sloppy, wet noises filling the room along with your little sobs. A sudden gush escapes you in the midst of everything, and when you finally come down, only then do you realize the reason everything felt so unreal for a moment, so much.

You can feel the excess wetness on your dress, all over the desk underneath you, and you nearly die with embarrassment at how much of a mess you’ve made because of this man, but Joel doesn’t seem to mind one bit, sliding you forward and wrapping his arms underneath your back, sitting you up and pulling you to your feet. You sway dazedly in your current state, practically useless to speak, think, or move, but Joel seems to be covering those bases for the two of you.

He swings your body in his grip, slamming your back against a nearby tall cabinet full of files that you’d spend hours helping organize, but you tear your mind away from the droll thought and back to Joel, whose cock is now pressing against your slick folds as he lifts one of your legs and hooks under your knee, holding it up.

“Fuckin’ filthy girl for me aren’t you? Squirting all over the place… like the way I make you come, don’t you?”

“Fuck yes, I do. S-so- so good,” you reply, hips bucking forward towards his cock despite the oversensitivity now raging there. He pushes in with one swift stroke, burying himself deep and you yelp at the sudden stretch. You’ve been warmed up plenty, but the sheer size of Joel is still enough to cause a sharp moment of discomfort before your body adjusts.

“I know, c’mon babydoll, you can take it. Want to make me feel good, don’t you?” Joel coos, his voice a little gentler now, urging you along. 

You nod enthusiastically for him, grinding forward to take the last bit of him into you until he’s fully seated. He grins wildly, his eyes flashing intensely as he starts to fuck you in earnest, snapping his hips into yours quickly.

“That’s a good girl for me,” he praises as you continue to take his cock over and over, and you’re so full, you can feel everything - him throbbing against your walls as he slides in and out.

“So f-fucking full of you, Joel,” you murmur as you flutter your eyes. 

“That’s right, babydoll, y’like my big cock using your little pussy, like it when I fill you up,” he grunts as his breath starts wavering more. Your own body is trembling, another climax building right where Joel’s cock is slamming into you each time he pushes in again. 

“Yes, Joel, fill me up today. Don’t pull out,” you beg.

Joel groans loudly, and you feel a rush of satisfaction at the way your words hold so much power over him. You can feel how you drive him wild, in and out of your own private world in his office. The way he steals glances at you, ogles your short skirts and dresses, the cleavage that you show for him, down to right now, when simply telling him to come inside of you has him practically spasming.

“Want me to fill you up with daddy’s come, that it? Like the little slut for me you are,” Joel retorts, his movements more sporadic now as he chases his own climax. 

“Only if it’ll help your day get better, Mr. Miller,” you tease with eyelashes fluttering, and Joel lets out a strangled little chuckle, his eyes completely glazed over with lust as you look into them. 

“Fuckin’ kiddin’ me, sugar, ‘course it would,” he says simply, letting out a little moan as he feels you squeeze around him slightly as he brushes against your walls over and over.

“Then do it, fill me up, daddy,” you say, and Joel doesn’t need to hear anything more, can’t hear anything more as he thrusts deeply into you and you gasp, feeling him come and fill you up so deeply. You milk every bit of it out of him, feeling your own climax overtake you unexpectedly at the pure power trip you’ve gotten from making him come this hard. You shudder into his cock still inside of you, your own white creaminess coating his shaft along with his cum and you let out a breathy moan at the sight of it pulling out of you a few moments later. 

“Sure made a mess, bad little girl,” Joel sucks his tongue between his teeth a few times, chastising you. “Half a mind to make you clean all this up.” He shakes his head as he steps away, but you just smile bashfully at him, still leaning against the cabinet, dripping pussy and tits still falling out of your dress. 

“Really gonna ask that from me after all I did for you tonight, baby?” you ask him with a saccharine smile, your voice dripping honey like off your tongue. 

“Lookin’ like that? No way in hell. You just stand there pretty and let me get a good look at ya all fucked out like that f’me,” Joel replies, tucking himself back into his pants. 

You spy your underwear on the ground, and as Joel follows your eyeline he swipes them off the floor, but tucks them in his back pocket again instead of handing them over to you. After the second time, you can see this is one of his things, and take a mental note to buy some more panties.

“Need to do this more often, don’t we?” Joel asks as he settles back into his office chair, groaning a little as he goes down. 

“Absolutely,” you grin. 

[gracefireheart]

Got DnD on my mind, so here's Demoman as an Elf Blood Hunter, Medic as a Tiefling Cleric, and Heavy as a Half-Orc Barbarian 💃

Btw, if you haven't already, please go and sign the petition for #FixTF2 that's on this site right here: https://save.tf/

A few side notes for these three drawings:

If you're wondering what race and class (and maybe subclass) I chose for the rest of the squad, you can read the post I made right here. And since making that post, I also tried assigning backgrounds as well (that comes with the basic DnD Player's Handbook). Demoman would be (as you can obv see) a Sailor, but moreso specifically the Pirate variant. Medic meanwhile would be a Sage (that was actually pretty well respected, but then did something that got him kicked out). And I thought that Heavy would probably be a Hermit. As for what I picked out for the others; Soldier is a Soldier, Spy is a Criminal (Spy variant), Scout is a Charlatan, Sniper is an Outlander, Engineer is a Guild Artisan, and idk what to pick for Pyro between Folk hero, Urchin, and Noble.

At first, I was a bit iffy what to pick for Demoman between him being an Elf, Half-Elf, and a Minotaur. But then I said "Fuck it. I don't care if Elves are supposed to have lighter skin and straighter hair or whatever, let this handsome af man be an Elf with long, curly hair." I like it :)

I had such a struggle trying to figure out how to color Medic's outfit o(-( At first, it was going to be a lot of off-white colors with a bit of red, then some off-white along with some red and black, then darker colors with some red, so on and so forth. Ngl, it tired me out a lil' orz Oh, and his holy symbol is an amulet he has hidden away in his clothing.

The staff Medic's holding is something I tinkered around with quite a few days ago riiiight here. Idk, I just really liked how the staff looked :')

Imo, I was a bit lazy with Heavy's outfit orz Mostly 'cause I have no clue how to spice up Barbarian clothes besides "give it a bit of fur."

[writing-for-the-gays]

The whole being dead thing

(MUSICAL) BEETLEJUICE X GN! PLUS SIZE! MORTICIAN! READER

Beej being really into the readers body, fat4fat bitches rise up. Beetlejuice is a tummy guy.

+nsfw

- Death was something you were well acquainted with. Working with the dead like it was second nature.

- and to you it was, underneath florescent lights and protective gear you felt at home.

- you'd had run-ins with the recently deceased, it wasn't uncommon, in fact a representative of the underworld had given you a couple dozen copies of 'handbook for recently deceased'.

- ghosts were just a part of your job, so when Beetlejuice showed up you didn't think too much of it.

- until he stayed around.

"So why exactly do you stay here with me?" You ask, hands busy gently applying a layer of foundation on an older woman's face. Beetlejuice hums.

"I just like the vibe."

- one night after a particularly rough day (even as a seasoned mortician some things can still get to you.) you smoked a joint in the car before you left the parking lot.

-irresponsible? 100%, but you don't do it often, so Beetlejuice is high-key surprised.

- you're his favorite breather, so of course you smoke weed! And also a lil worried, but he's not exactly sure why yet.

- you end up falling asleep in the car and when you wake up you're leaning on him, he's just kinda looking at you with wide unblinking eyes.

- like a cat focusing on prey?? But y'know kinda lovingly .

- acts differently from that point

- he stops staying there for the 'vibe' he starts saying he just wants to hangout.

- outside of being at the funeral home.

- at YOUR house.

- he still came and went while you worked.

- one night you spark up maybe a little too much, and are just a bit too touchy, and- ah shit he's hard.

- you kiss him; he tries sobering you up. You think he's mad at you. You fucked up.

- you wake up the next morning and Beej checks up on you, and you apologize like crazy and low-key confess.

- he kisses you this time and you reciprocate. And soon his hands are wandering all over your body, and he finds your belly and it's soft and squishy and he can grab at it and and and-

-he short circuits, he can't produce new blood you assume so when it goes to his dick he def gets light headed.

- lets out just this fucking noise from deep in his throat, he's so turned on man.

- you grind on him and he almost cums in his pants 🤩.

- your hands find his body, and you run your hands across his folds and just hold his love handles

- you fuck so hard that night you genuinely have to call of work because you can't walk.

- if you're trans masc he sucks T dick like a binki btw! Runs his tongue over the tip and slurps it down with the filthiest fucking noises, literally bobbing his head up and down, moaning when you pull his hair.

- T shots are followed by head, he can't go without it.

- trans femmes he sucks girl cock like it's his fucking job, will literally only come up to call you a good girl and finger you :3!

- what I'm trying to say is he's super good at giving head, and it's mostly bc he doesn't need to breathe, so he could go until your legs shake and you're crying 🩷.

- also takes it up the ass like a fucking CHAMP, whining for it and his voice literally cracking. (Oh God if you're teasing him, don't get me started, "you take my strap/cock so good pretty boy." "MORE PLEASEPLEASEPLEASE!")

- he pulls hair, scratches and bites, no you can't convince me otherwise.

-it sparks up... Interesting conflicts in your brain. "It's... not necrophilia, right? Technically??? You're dead, but not like... Dead dead, I can talk to you, and you can consent?"

- he's soft for you.

- but also you'll probably need to wrangle him into the bath.

[hwaightme]

Come fly with me

✈️ pairing: pilot!yunho x gn!journalist!reader ✈️ genre: fluff, love at first sight, bit of angst, slice of life ✈️ summary: Aerophobia - the fear of flying. And clearly, something that your boss has no idea exists. While you curse the universe and the metal bird, your handsome seatmate ponders if it is possible to redirect this flight, from Gwangju, to your heart. ✈️ wordcount: 9.0k ✈️ warnings/tags: language, general cuteness, a lot of hand holding and stealing glances, panic/anxiety, aerophobia, discussion of past trauma, mention of grave injury (side character), you never really know what someone has been through ✈️ a/n: Hello!! Here is a lil one shot bc Yunho is renting out my brain. Thank you so much for your love and support, all reblogs, notes and asks welcome! Much love and big hugs (P.S.: not me reading FAA docs and flight handbooks lol)

The chances of dying in a plane crash are one in eleven million.

The odds of a plane crashing are one in one point two million.

Between the years twenty twelve and twenty sixteen, there was only a one in a one point three seven billion chance of dying in a commercial plane crash, and a one in twenty million chance of being on a commercial flight and experiencing a fatal accident.

But there were fatal accidents.

In those same years there were crashes where people died.

And what about those planes that disappeared?

What about the malfunctions?

What if something happens and two planes just fly into one another?

What if the wing breaks off?

What if one of the windows breaks?

What if something happens to the pilot?

What if everything on the plane just malfunctions?

Those odds… still not in my favour.

Damn this work trip.

And damn how packed it is.

Damn this window seat.

Right. By. The. Wing.

Damn that flappy shit on it that looks like something is about to break off.

Why do I have to keep this blind open goddamn it I am having a stressful enough time as is with the plane vibrating like a hungry beast.

Your mind was racing at the speed of light as you cursed your workplace over and over again for sending you on a business trip. On a plane. Of all modes of transport. The mode of transport that had a track record of making you ill, and one time made you faint. Actually, that had been the best flight of your life since you had been conked out for the most of it. No, this was the one mode of transport that seemed to be fine, but just as you would begin forgetting that planes equaled mass destruction, you would check your colleagues’ freshest news reports and once again, crash, burn, genocide.

It was not that you were a scaredy-cat, not by any means. You were a journalist, for fucks sake. You could handle pretty much anything thrown your way. Well, anything except planes. They were not a pseudo-activist who you could expose for not knowing what they were fighting for. They were not an official figure whose corruption you could bring to light. They were not a dog that you could interview for a fun ‘alternative news’ segment. They were a machine made to trap people for set periods of time, can them like sardines, pop their ear drums, and if all went well, regurgitate them on some other metal bird playground, and lie in wait until another bunch gets loaded up for a ride.

But of course, out of all the people in the office, including those who would kill to get out of Seoul and those who were basically known as the nomadic reporters, your boss had to appoint you to go on a three-day trip to Gwangju. The one person who almost exclusively worked in the capital. Who had no experience in working abroad. Hell, the one person who had literally refused to attend a social event because it was held in Busan and the travel plan included flying there. You were the antithesis to such trips, but your boss could not give less of a shit, apparently.

He even had the audacity to praise you in front of your colleagues and say you were ‘just the right person for the interview’ – all when the topic, and the professional background of the individual you were to be meeting, were so far out of your regular scope and within your nightmare space that no amount of reading would make you neither proficient, nor truly appreciative. You were convinced that the universe was out to get you. An alarming interpretation had crossed your mind – perhaps this was your boss wanting to find an excuse to fire you?

A new wave of panic settled in as you made feeble attempts to play a mental game of ‘whack-a-mole’ with your not so friendly musings. Why couldn’t you just exchange the tickets, take the train or a bus, or event drive there yourself? Why did you have to follow orders at your own expense? Just as you were beginning to transition from using familiar curse words to describe the situation to recalling anything and everything you had ever heard either in a foreign drama or in real life, you were gently stirred from the activity by a change in lighting.

You peered to your left – the culprit was a man, broad-shouldered, on the taller side, clad in a stylish sheepskin coat with a white turtleneck and some well-tailored trousers to match. You couldn’t quite see his face fully, but you guessed it would happen sooner than later, seeing as he was in the process of fitting his carry-on into the luggage compartment above where you were sat. Not wanting to intrude any further with your stares, you glanced away, instantly regretting it and exhaling sharply as your eyes were met with the metal wings of doom outside.

An airplanes wings are designed to flex up to ten degrees, and during the average flight the flex can reach up to seven degrees. The wings have been stress-tested time and time again so they cannot break off and the plane will stay balanced and-

But what about the Lockheed L-188 Electra II? What about the Lockheed C-141C Starlifter? Their wings just decided to go on holiday why can’t the wings of a commercial liner do the same? Oh, and the second one had a fuel leak – when do people check that? Did they check for this one? What if something happens and the fuel tank explodes?

“Would you be willing to switch seats by any chance?” a calming voice suddenly interrupted your nervous flow, and you snapped your head in its direction.

That man. Oh no, he was handsome. Dark hair, which was the tiniest bit tousled, kind eyes that you swore glinted at you, and a heart-stopping million-dollar smile. Now you had to keep up appearances too, to not seem like a total wuss, at least for the duration that you had to sit in this can. You heard his question loud and clear, but to allow your mind to process, you asked him to repeat with a quick:

“Sorry?”

He tilted his head and pointed towards the seat closest to him, “Ah, well, technically, this seat is mine, but… would you want to switch?”

Who was this man and why was he reading your ;mind? Was the universe pitying you finally?

“Yes, let’s do that!”

You shot up from your seat, nearly hitting the one in front of you, and slid out to give way to the brave soul who could look out of the window. As you two were settling down and he was giving you his thanks, you were not sure whether your heart was beating fast because of your fear of flying, or because of how you lucked out on your seat mate. Probably both.

It was hard to resist stealing a couple more glances at him while he was checking something on his phone. He had a reassuring aura about him and judging by how well-practiced his motions had been as he was settling in, he appeared to be quite a frequent flyer. He was so relaxed it made you envious. But you had no better way to get back to muting your phobias aside from absent-mindedly fishing out the airplane safety instructions manual from the pocket of the seat in front and reading it with the intensity of a final year student preparing for the KSAT.

You pored over the calls to fasten your seatbelt, to check that there was in fact, a life vest under your seat, to be prepared to pull on some random strings on an air mask if they were to be ‘made available’…

Abandon everything and run ‘in an organised manner’…

No high heels…

Someone probably would try to wear them still, even if we all had to go down that inflatable slide.

Slide down in the Dracula position…

You heard a chuckle to your right, and upon turning a little, you noticed your seatmate studying you, his lips threatening to curl into a grin. He looked you up and down, from the safety manual that you were now gripping a little bit too strongly, and finally locking eyes with you.

“Thought so.” he came to some cryptic conclusion, leaving you perplexed.

“Thought what?” you could not help but give into your curiosity.

“Aerophobia?”

“Is it that obvious?” you groaned and shut the manual to return it to the pocket. You felt as though you turned into a child who wanted to be taken more seriously, with your body refusing to suppress a slight pout. Yes, planes, for all their bird-imitating glory, were never going to be your wingmen. It was hard to ooze attractiveness when you were on the verge of having a mental breakdown.

“Well, there were some signs, but I only noticed them because I was paying attention,” before you could respond to the subtle flirtation, he continued by introducing himself, “I’m Jeong Yunho. Yunho is completely fine though.”

“L/N Y/N. Then Y/N is fine by me too. Pleasure to make your acquaintance. You might just be giving me a run for my money with those deduction skills!” You complimented him, delighted when you could elicit and even brighter smile. This flight was slowly but surely becoming a little bit more enjoyable thanks to the outgoing eye candy in the window seat.

“Are you an investigator, better yet, a special agent out on a mission?” he wiggled his eyebrows, further lightening the mood.

“I doubt I would ever be able to pull Brad Pitt-level stunts and board the plane in an unconventional manner like he did, but the mystery aspect is enticing. I’m a journalist and reporter.”

Something you could only describe as recognition flashed across his face as he clapped his hands together. By now, he had his body turned to the greatest extent possible towards you, his knees nearly touching your thighs. You had to admit, you were worried that a flight attendant would come and scold him, or that this would end up being a hazard during takeoff. But at the same time, the attention was a welcome relief.

“Oh wait! I have seen you before! You mainly cover local news, right? Or at least spanning Seoul Capital Area?”

“Funny to use ‘at least’ there, but yep, that’s me-”

“Your exposé on the fitness center money laundering scheme was amazing, it was like watching an action thriller.”

Well, that fell short. You giggled. Yunho was evidently trying to impress you by praising your work, but mixed things up right at the end. As you were still a junior, the times where you were allowed to as much as breathe in the direction of a live broadcast or even a pre-recording were few and far between. So far, you had only made a couple of appearances, and most definitely not in the crime segments – though you had indeed helped write the script.

“That’s not me. Close enough though. My mentor was the one on the screen.”

The utter confusion on his face spelled disaster for your composure, so you bit the inside of your cheek lightly, eyes sparkling. He covered his face with his hand out of embarrassment, and, once he had regained at least some of his courage, apologized, assuring you that your name did ring a bell and that he had heard it announced.

“Okay, I’ll give you that one. I was one of the writers.”

“Score! Otherwise, I really don’t know how I would be apologizing to you aside from buying you a drink.”

“Something tells me that you were a step away from messing up intentionally.”

“I wouldn’t do that on a short-haul.” Yunho was back to being his cheery self, his only distraction from you being the need to turn his phone on to airplane mode.

This action, meaningless on its own, but in context… left a sour taste in your mouth – a reminder that you were still in a tin can with planks glued onto either side, and that it was about to start grumbling and rumbling across to take off. You saw attendants start preparing for the safety announcement, making you retract into your seat and sigh. How you wished you were as carefree as this charming stranger.

“You know a bit about me, since you are so attentive, but I am intrigued as to who you are.” You inquired, trying to take your mind off what it considered to be imminent danger.

“I don’t want to spoil the fun! Give me a little taste of your own deduction skills.” He challenged playfully, though his tone revealed fleeting notes of concern.

You paused. You had already taken him to be a frequent flier, though for what reason was beyond you. You did not have enough experience racing through airports to be able to distinguish between different types of passengers. But what did stand out to you, was that comment about the reportage – the event that had been covered occurred within the Incheon Metropolitan City area, thus was presented through local branches only.

“You are in Incheon pretty frequently, right?”

“Terrifyingly accurate comment, but yes.” He confirmed while nodding. You felt proud of yourself for managing to have at least some of your skillset still intact.

“And what is bringing you to Gwangju? If it is okay to ask, of course.” You resumed your miniature interrogation, rushing as the announcement began to resound across the cabin, and a flight attendant was demonstrating how to put on the life vest, top up the air, where the emergency exits were… a flurry of information streaming right at you.

“Visiting my parents.” Yunho’s calmness had not changed a single bit since he had boarded the plane, and he was answering you in a level, measured out manner.

“Not during a standard holiday?”

“Here’s the hint: my line of work limits annual hours of… redacted for now.”

“That just makes me think you work abroad most of the time!” you exclaimed, recalling the shock you had when you had first entered the workforce and experience the full package of overtime, minimal breaks, and high demands. There was no guarantee that it was not the same in other countries, could even be worse, but as the old saying goes: ‘the grass is always greener on the other side’.

After he shook his head, shattering your theories, you fell quiet. Everyone had settled in their seats, and now information that was sending adrenaline to pump right through your veins was being shared. Even the demonstration of the flashlight on the vest was ominous. Once the routine had been completed, the rumble of the engines grew a little louder, and you were still making no move to return to the conversation, Yunho leaned over and exclaimed in a low voice:

“I’m a pilot. Indeed, am based in Incheon, and being abroad is very much part of the deal so I would say your logic was impeccable.” 

“No wonder you look to be right at home.” You stated, albeit it came across as a little jealous. The air-mobile and your personal panic inducer began to demand more attention as it steered from the airport, leaving a still outstretched landing bridge behind.

“Maybe you are right. I do spend more time in planes than in Gwangju.”

“Sounds like the triangle between me, my apartment, and the office.” You concurred – at least locally the enforce workaholic culture was universal.

With your fingers, you tapped out an abstract rhythmic sequence with your fingers, then moving to feel for the position of the different buttons, side-eyeing them to make sure your seat, nor the electrics were broken. You were tempted to check if the seat could lean back but you were convinced that if you did that the world would collapse. Or at least you would be in trouble. As it turns out you had a flight law enforcement representative right next to you. A good-looking and so far, so sweet, but still.

“If you don’t mind me asking, how did you crack the Incheon bit?” he detracted you from your near scratching of the synthetic material, and you pressed your hands into your lap to supress their light tremor.

“Ah, you gave it away when you mentioned the news. That was only shown in Incheon.” You curtly responded, your concentration escaping you after you felt the metal bird jolt.

It was crystal clear to Yunho that your phobia was getting the better of you. After not having flown since at least a decade ago, each one of your senses was going into overdrive, screaming catastrophe. Your eyes were slightly widened, breathing becoming more shallow threatening to turn into hyperventilation, and, of course, you not knowing what to do with your hands (or really, yourself) sealed the deal. He needed to help you. Using whatever technique that came to him. And quick.

“Lightheaded?”

“Uh huh…” you could not deny it. That was just how it was. You, alone with your uncontrollable palpitations and a lump in your throat were on the verge of just control alt deleting your consciousness for take-off.

“Uhm… may I… wait, this might be very tactless, and you have every right to tell me to go- …wherever, but may I hold your hand?”

“What?” you snapped out of your thoughts and gaped at Yunho. What strange form of crisis-based moves-making was this? Or was he making fun of you? The engines were becoming almost deafening while you were still struggling to isolate your seatmate’s voice.

Even though he had not shown any signs of malice, you still expected the worst. Always did when it came to discussing travel, since the majority of your interactions often resulted in your conversation partner revealing some aggression-based schadenfreude. They were happy to pity you and diminish all of your other qualities just because you were scared of this one thing. But even though you were actively searching for any form of darkness, you could only find a caring soul, wholly preoccupied with your wellbeing.

“It is so you know that there is someone here with you. Just by feeling. Kind of like a grounding technique?”

“Oh, I would kill to be on the ground right now.” You twisted his words spiralling into dread.

“Sorry, I’d like to live another day, so you’ll have to bear with this. May I?”

Spooked by some noise from outside of the airplane, you did not dare raise your voice and instead resorted to nodding back your confirmation. As soon as you gave the sign, you felt his steady, warm and soothing hand tentatively touch yours, moving it a fraction and intertwining fingers until the palms were pressed together. Yunho gave yours a quick squeeze, as if in mute encouragement.

“This is so embarrassing...” you mumbled, shaking your head.

After the plane had come to a halt before the final turn onto the runway, you felt feverish, and overwhelmingly guilty. You had convinced yourself that you were ruining this wonderful man’s entire flight, by acting like such a child. And on top of this, he was a pilot, so if anyone had the right to consider you ridiculous it would be him.

“If it is the hand holding then I totally understand I can-”

“NO PLEASE THAT HELPS-” you yelped, practically yanking his hand back with yours and returning them to resting between you, “oops I said that too loud didn’t I…” this really was one moment of humiliation after another. Heat rose in your cheeks as you pondered whether it was too late to stop the plane or not.

“You should hear me scream on roller coasters. Now that’s loud.” He countered your insecurity, making you chuckle. You felt Yunho’s thumb brush over the back of your hand – it was not unpleasant. At all. “I must say, you are already doing really well.”

“Funny.”

“No, really.” Now, the engines were really starting up and you gripped Yunho’s hand a little tighter, this led to him making a split-second decision – a final resort. “But how about this. You close your eyes, okay?”

“What are you trying?” you raised an eyebrow, meeting his confident gaze with your own panicked one.

“Just, I know I am a stranger but, trust me for the next couple of minutes, okay?”

“Sure…” you did not have any of the forcefulness and pride left in you, so you quickly agreed and shut your eyes, but that led to you beginning to hyper fixate on the quietest, most insignificant of noises, blowing their impact out of proportion.

“Now, listen to my voice only.” Yunho instructed.

He was alarmingly close, almost right by your ear as he whispered:

“Let me guide you.”

Your heart fluttered, as you tried to push at least some thoughts to the back of your head, in order to focus on Yunho. This surely had to be one of the most original and thrilling ways you had ever been hit on. And terror-promoted-

Oh you had not even recounted the statistics for hijacking and for those types of attacks yet. How foolish of you! How were you going to remain safe if you did not have the likelihood of you perishing because of an air criminal or air pirate in the front of your mind!? You raked your brain for the 'fun facts' you had enjoyed reviewing last night, when Yunho cleared his throat and tapped your intertwined hands with his free one.

“Okay, so, first, let us set the scene. There is this neat thing called the Pilot’s Operating Handbook, which helps the pilot of a given aircraft determine whether it is safe to fly. And they would not do anything until all checks are done."

Where and what was the guarantee of that? You wanted to ask, too aware of the vibrations that were travelling from the floor of the cabin and turning into your jitters. But Yunho sounded so sure of what he was saying... damn it, he was using ethos-based marketing against you. What if he had lied about being a pilot?

"Also, the runway, the wind speed and direction, and a grand bunch of other things are all checked, one by one, to make sure that everything works as expected. You following me so far?” he informed, and paused to check up on you.

Yunho was using the opportunity to study you to the fullest. The little squint as you were fighting against the desire to shoot your eyes open and search for invisible troubles. The slightest hint of a pout etched on your rosy lips, signifying displeasure with your surroundings. He could not control his smile as he was admiring your battle spirit.

It was hard for Yunho to imagine you being as vulnerable as you were with him right now, due to sheer circumstance. Had anything been different, he might not have even had the chance to introduce himself to the beautiful stranger in what originally was the window seat.

“Yes but… what if something does not work?” as much as this experience was exposure therapy, in the moment, you did not give a shit and was sticking to your ways.

“That is not in the job description. And the engineers do a damn good job too. Just like you are now, okay, Y/N?” Yunho scolded softly but finished with more encouragement.

“I am so sorry again-”

“Nothing to be sorry about."

Of course, you would not know just how much you were reminding Yunho of himself in the distant past. How, when he had been a child, he was not able to even stay on airport grounds because of the noise, and the images that would flash in his head. He only hoped that for you it was a 'lighter' phobia, not stemming from true disaster.

"You know how the plane was just turning right now and making some noise?” Yunho cut his rumination short and returned to his miniature lecture.

“Yes.”

“Well, this is the pilot using rudder pedals, kind of like pedals in a car, pedals on a piano... whichever is closer to home for you, to steer the plane. Basically, we must make sure that the nose of the plane is well-aligned with the centre of the runway. And now, release of the brakes…”

Just as he said it, you could pick out a distinct change in the mechanical cacophony. You chuckled - it was like Yunho was conducting the actions of the beast.

“Now, do you hear this rise in sound? This rumble? Quite ominous, isn’t it? But it is just the pilot advancing the throttle gently to take off power, while keeping their feet on the rudder portions of the pedals and their eyes on the super cool engine instruments.”

He almost sounded like a technical kid getting a DIY kit for their birthday. The excitement in Yunho's voice did not falter as he continued to dive into more and more detail. Did you understand any of it? No. Was it more than pleasant to listen to Yunho having the time of his life explaining it? Yes.

“As the speed picks up, there is more pressure on the controls, but more specifically the rudder and elevator. Then we quickly transition to having the plane being flown more than it is taxied and having three axis manoeuvrability. What is really cool about commercial aviation, and pilots like the one flying this plane, is that we are actually able to feel plane controllability and are able to adjust pressures to make take off just right.”

The take-off procedure was being presented to you like a picture book. A straightforward scheme of a few steps, a celebration of a pilot's mastery. You daydreamed of how your seat mate would look like in the famous uniform, doing exactly what he was recounting to you.

“Okay so we are passing this stage now… and here we are approaching lift off. How we call the angle at which the plane takes off the ground is quite funny: the attitude. And after this… we are going to adjust the pitch just a little to make sure we get the best climbing rate.”

Yes, keep on talking this odd terminology that you were not even attempting to get a grasp on anymore. Probably would have been a good idea in light of your interview, but you could barely remain conscious as your inner world was experiencing high magnitude worry-quakes.

“Now, do you feel that? this is the pilot beginning to apply back-elevator pressure, and this is done to lift that little wheel at the front of the plane up. This is the attitude being created, we call it the rotation for lift off. Ah there it is now he is adjusting… adjusting… now the wings are being levelled, and the plane is remaining right on track, aligned with the centreline of the runway.”

Good for the plane. Good for the pilot. Good for Yunho. You just did not want to die. You squeezed Yunho's hand harder and harder, an action on which he did not comment. On the contrary, he resumed the soothing motion with his thumb that he had tried a bit of time ago.

“And now… we keep on going and… we are going steady.”

You eased off the grip, cringing at how forward, how ridiculous you likely seemed. It was hard to open your eyes back up again, so you took it slow. One eye. Then the next. You were still there. In the can. Which was now in the sky. Zooming across it at whatever speed. Yunho was still there. And still holding onto your hand.

Thanks to his guidance, you had not gone into a full-blown panic, nor had you passed out – an achievement really. But as you were regaining your senses, returning to a more neutral mode of worry, your need to show that you were an independent adult and did not require support returned, and you gingerly tried to remove yourself from his hold, as much as you wanted to stay in the same position for the duration of the flight.

Though Yunho allowed you to do so and waved off your numerous apologies. He was of the same mindset – the contact had been near electric, making this one of the more exciting of his flights. He would be lying if he said that the thought of finding an excuse to hold your hand again did not cross his mind. But he was drawn in even more by the contrast between the you from a few minutes ago and you who was boring holes in the seat in front, evidently counting seconds as you were measuring out your breathing. He was in awe of your perseverance, and how brave you had been to even book the tickets. To be in the cabin. To just, be there.

He was perplexed by why you were going to Gwangju by plane if you had a phobia. His own mother, over a decade after the life-changing incident his family had experienced, still had not gotten over it. Sometimes, looking at the racing clouds in the sky had caused her to tear up, and choose to spend the day shut indoors. Such was life. Even though his father was still alive, and had recovered for the most part, the fear of planes, the roar of the engine – a lethal predator, of flying like Icarus, too close to the sun, remained.

Flying was in his family. His grandfather, his father, him… had all committed themselves to the life of a pilot. And his younger brother, too, was in training. The lineage was to continue, despite the close brush with death that had nearly made Yunho’s father one with the world above. Prior to sustaining grave injuries, he had been a test pilot with a stellar reputation, and one successful flight after another. He was known for being able to land planes that had exhibited faults mid-flight, was able to tame high-speed jets that grew unstable, and was a gifted aerobatics master when he could unwind and choose a trusty steed for himself. His father was his role model. Regardless of what had happened.

It had been a freak accident. A miscalculation resulting in a catastrophe. Better yet, the company that had commissioned the testing had managed to keep the accident under wraps, and only after his mother near rioted and escalated the conflict to the local government and threatened to take it to the media, did his family receive compensation and as laughable charity, some physiotherapy courses. Nothing could compensate a broken heart of a person who had been told that they would not be able to do what they lived for anymore, however. Yunho was just a child then. But the fear that had had come to occupy his home was ageless.

It was not easy, living every day not sure whether his own father would be able to walk him to school. Play football with him. Stand together with him for a photo during a family trip. It was not easy on his mother, who had almost totally turned into a carer, splitting herself in pieces to raise two boys, to work, and to be her husband’s strength, both mentally and physically. Her sleepless nights, when Yunho had caught her bawling silently in the kitchen, trying to hide away from the rest of the family, had imprinted themselves in his mind.

The bitterness in his father’s words as he cursed everything related to the event, and the forlorn gazes he sent the awards, the books, the photographs in his office. Although he had been able to walk again, after years of forgetting the feeling, his meaning was only a memory. This was what had shaped Yunho’s initial impression of the world of flying. That it was a place of misery, hurt and false promises. He had vowed then to never, ever step onto a plane. Never once to approach an airport. Never once to give himself up to that dream that he had been born with. His personal ‘fear’ was not quite that. It was more the rage, the sense of injustice – why did it have to be his father? Out of spite he did not want to continue the dynasty.

His mother had been relieved when Yunho had announced at the dinner table that he wanted to be an engineer. And he made a pretty good job of convincing himself that this was what he really wanted. He had even gone to cram school for mathematics and physics and participated in some competitions. Not that he had ever felt purpose or found joy in it. He was just riding the wave of stability. And simultaneously cursing it.

As time for the national exams was fast approaching, and he needed to specify what kind of engineering he was going to do, he had been stumped. How could Yunho pick between a variety of subjects which he had virtually zero interest in, and pursued because of childhood trauma? So, he did what he could only call an act of desperation and approached his father for career advice. Yunho had assumed that the discussion was going to go nowhere. That his father, who had become a consultant and trainer (though permanently grounded), would only dismiss him and say something along the lines of ‘it did not matter anyways, everything could fall apart at any moment’. But surprisingly, he was responsive. Moreover, he had reminisced with Yunho about his early days, ones where he had not been sure what to do.

Then, he had posed Yunho a question: what was it that his heart wanted to pursue? If he were to forget everything, any and all external influence, what would he pick? After much deliberation, he peered at the poster of a Boeing-777 that hung across from him, and merely stated:

“Flying.”

After years of fooling himself. Running away from what his inner self was yearning for. Only this path seemed right. That night, his father and him had made a deal. To not disappoint his mother, and gain some basic understanding of aircraft, he was to pick aero-engineering, and in secret, simultaneously begin flight lessons. His father had activated his network, and once Yunho had gone through that first year, made a smooth transfer to become who he was now. A fully trained commercial airline pilot. True to himself, his dreams and his future.

When his mother had first found out, she was in hysterics. It was as though someone had brought the news to her that her son had passed away. Maybe that would have hurt less – less than the fear for what could happen, the anguish she would be experiencing every time Yunho would lift off. But he had made up his mind. And would indeed rather die than face the prospect of being anything else than a pilot. This was what he was made to do, and it felt right.

On the one hand, the reason why he wanted to help you was because he wanted others to feel the same way he did about flying. It had become his mission to bring comfort to passengers, to inspire future generations of pilots, and to share just how fun it could be. On the other, he had learned the hard way about what phobia and detestation was and could not bear to see you experience it. He had grown far too good at detecting its approach, so much so that he could live through it with you.

Maybe this was a strange way for him to cope and process his own life’s events, but it sure was damn near magical when he saw that he could take away at least a fraction of the weight you carried. After all there was only so much baggage you could bring on board with you.

Yunho’s heart was conflicted. When he had just boarded and got to his row, he had told himself that he lucked out, having an attractive seatmate and one who appeared to be as curious in him as he was in them. And now, he was almost feeling attached to you since he had helped you overcome the take off. It was inexplicable. A little irrational. But he wanted to talk to you. And to keep on holding your hand if you were okay with it.

When you considered yourself to be more or less recovered you sighed in relief. Having Yunho logically talk you through what you had labelled as horror film material had done what you thought was impossible – made you reconsider if planes really were as terrible as you thought. At least the ones where Yunho could be with you and chant plane speak over the screeches and groans of the engines and brakes. You turned your head a little and noticed Yunho watching the Earth transform through the window. He was leaning back and appeared to be deep in his mind palace. You tapped him lightly on his upper arm, which made all his attention come back to you.

“I wanted to say thank you. Thank you for helping me through this, really. You did not have to, Yunho, but you saved me just now.”

“Really, as I said, it is not a problem, Y/N.”

“But still. As you probably can tell, this really is nightmare fuel for me-”

“I am more than happy to continue, just so you know. If you need me, I am right here.” He offered, flustering you.

The sincerity of his words made you dwell on his desire to help. He was nothing short of respectful, but you felt that the story ran much deeper. Perhaps because he knew what it was like. But you were not about to force him into sharing all the potential skeletons and sprinklings of trauma, if anything it would make you appear ungrateful and downright prying. The atmosphere was just right for now, thanks to Yunho.

“You best be worried, because I might just pick you up on that offer, since I have a lot of revision to do before actually doing the job I was sent to do.” You answered, running a hand through your hair. You wondered whether you should use the rest of the flight to actually do some preparation for the interview or… the second option won out immediately, and you were back to enjoying Yunho’s company.

“Ah, so you are on the flight not by your own volition?”

“Yep. My boss is rather creative when it comes to picking out his entertainment.” His chuckle made a dopey grin appear on your face.

“And what do you mean by revision? Will you be joining the ranks?” he realised he barely knew anything about you aside from the odd mix of bare bone basics and auto-completed nonsense, courtesy of his imagination.

“Probably not, still need to sit as a passenger for a long, long time before that, you know, learn by observation!” you joked, attempting to conjure a vision of yourself as a pilot, but the irony of it was too much. “I am going to be doing a mini-documentary and interview with Hwang Taehyuk. He is a recently retired pilot with many accolades and, apparently, a very exciting professional life so-”

“This really keeps on getting better.”

“What keeps on getting better?”

“I had the chance to co-pilot with him a couple of times. Absolutely the most amazing guy on the planet. Total goofball too.”

“Why am I not surprised?” you threw the rhetorical question out into the air, but almost instantly continued, “You know, you are making me glad that I took this flight.”

“Like I said, if you need a plane nerd rundown of what’s going on at any point, just let me know and I can even draw some diagrams for you on a napkin.”

“Not just that, though now you promised me some diagrams and I do want to see them. It’s just, the beauty of how things have aligned. That makes me... quite happy.”

“Seconded.”

For the hour that it took to fly from Seoul to Gwangju, you were in deep discussion with your seatmate, turned acquaintance, turned to something that could not exactly be called a friend – an ‘interest’, rather. It was a process of progressive mutual discovery, stepping beyond first impressions and learning that, in fact, both of you only wanted to know more and more as the minutes and stories flew by.

Feverishly you shared your lives with one another, in a manner not dissimilar to that of someone retelling a missed episode to make sure that from then on, everyone would be moving forward together, at the same pace. You and Yunho explained your dreams, your hopes for the future, whilst inadvertently looking for, and finding similarities in them. You soared through conversation and landed being much closer than either of you could have predicted.

Everything was on the table – from embarrassing stories to going through each other’s camera rolls (under strict supervision, but that was a given). To prove to you that Yunho was truly a pilot and not just a plane nerd, he had shown you some photos of himself in uniform, zooming in to show you that the epaulettes were very much real and that he was earning his stripes. You commended his determination and had even taken an interest in how the career ladder functioned, but really what you could comprehend the best out of that discourse was that he chose the right job even if just for how handsome he looked in the attire. Yunho really was one of a kind, inside and out. He reminded you of a day in early spring, when the days were steadily growing longer, and the winter breeze finally departed, instead letting the budding leaves and blossoming beauties take over and instil a happier sense of tomorrow. He was the one to start to thaw your previously deadest perceptions and blood-curdling associations.

It went without saying that your fear of flying did not go without mention. A dreaded topic for you, you had initially tried to brush it under the table, but it was pointless to do before a person who had just seen you through take off, and for the duration of the flight sometimes paused your dialogue to check in with you. In addition, if he noticed your concentration drifting because of a foreign noise, or because of a little tilt or turn, every time Yunho would explain the reasoning behind it the best he could. Though it would take much longer to get over the phobia, his dedication made you swoon.

You had revealed to him that you had been diagnosed with aerophobia back in early primary school. It was genetic, with your father’s family line showing particularly strong symptoms – so any reunions were either planned with military precision, or simply did not happen, because Jeju Island was not so ‘all modes of transport’ -friendly. Back then, you had no idea how serious your condition could be, seeing as you were minimally exposed, but the times you were had been haunting you since. Your choice of work had not helped with your condition either, since you were constantly exposed to the worst locally, nationally, and globally. Though you had to be an objective messenger and remain unperturbed, aviation-related accidents often left you a whimpering, misty-eyed mess. At least you had become an expert in reading and responding to emails while your vision was blurry.

This was probably the first time ever that you had shared this aspect of you without either being interrupted or misunderstood. With Yunho, he listened carefully, and bewilderingly, drew parallels between your reality and his. It was obvious that he was holding back on some more upsetting facts out of care for how you would react, but you could figure out that his path to becoming a pilot had been on the bumpier side. He did end up drawing some free body diagrams for you and explaining the aerodynamics involved in a flight, lighting up every time you would ask him a question, or even when you would lean in, so your heads were almost touching, brows furrowed and processing.

Yunho had provided you with more anecdotes about the pilot you were going to interview, and even suggested that he could come along to introduce you – apparently the guy liked to keep his circle small and was not one to trust outsiders until they gained his respect. There was something surreal about being on the plane with Yunho – it made you believe that you two would last forever, and that what he was initially proposing, and then downright promising you to do, would really happen. Here was to be hoping that you would not part ways and at least be able to recognise one another in a crowd.

Landing went a little smoother for you than take off, perhaps because you had automatically searched for Yunho, and gingerly placed your hand on his lower arm. Too shy to do the same as before, you had remained in that position, focusing on the fabric of his coat. Meanwhile Yunho was frozen, like a person who had been chosen by a cat as the perfect napping spot. He remained close to your ear, once again whispering through the steps, though seeing your lowered anxiety, allowed himself to veer off the script a little more and crack a couple of jokes.

You left the plane as if you had been companions to begin with, checking if the other had left anything behind, chatting as you made your way across the jet bridge. Unlike the rest of the passengers who had decidedly become track and field athletes as soon as they were hit with airport air conditioning, Yunho and you moved slow, off to the side of the giant glass corridors, just so that time would not pass by you. For the first time, you were grateful that the line for passport control had gotten quite long by the time you reached it – all the more time to sneak glances at one another, kid around, and act like you had known each other forever. When you had reached the front of the line, the border control officer had even mistaken you as a couple and let you through together. Not that you would correct them.

Baggage claims. A time to reminisce, as it turned out. Standing side by side, you recollected each other's musings and theories as though you were revising, flipping through cards and supporting each try at a response with ripples of laughter. This was a plane that neither of you wanted to land, and kept on praying, repeating the same wish like a mantra: may this last.

If only this damn luggage could continue spinning forever, or would just be lost in the metal bird's belly. Somehow, life on the ground appeared to move faster than that high above. The hustle and bustle, people moving to and fro with their identities shoved into flimsy wheeled boxes, kept together by duct tape and overpriced cling film. Everyone had to have a plan. A destination. Up in the air, that could be removed. Troubles minimised for the duration of the flight. The only direction being to a random dot of choice, labelled as a city, town, base, important only because of plans that resume upon landing.

To Yunho, this was the biggest disillusionment he had experienced in his first flight. When he had been a little boy, he believed that everything radically changed after such a journey. That pilots were like wizards. But, as it turned out, he was only serving other people's plans. Just like this time, he was following a specific agenda. But you had made it colourful. Meaningful. The time suspended in mid-air well spent, and in need of a ‘to be continued’. As you made your way closer and closer to the airport exit, after having collected your belongings, he only had one thing on his mind. How could he prolong this metaphorical flight with you?

Without any prior agreement, nor any feat of telepathy, you and Yunho halted. It was time to part. Both you and him knew it, and yet neither of you were making the decisive move to do so. Instead, you chose to dawdle and stand, facing each other in the middle of Arrivals, luggage by your sides.

“Are you... going to be taking a taxi? Or is someone going to meet you?” he broke the silence with some small talk, while his heart was threatening to burst out of his chest – somewhat comical, now it was his turn to be panicked.

“I’ll catch a taxi. Yeah. And yourself?” You asked, not caring for the response, but for the prolongation of time that it brought. You were not looking forward to departing from this bliss between destinations. Back to rushing somewhere. Trying not to lose yourself amidst the events you had to pursue.

“Car rental.” Yunho swore he could hear turbine noise in his head as he was dashing from one idea to the next. Was he about to lose you?

“That’s neat.” You kicked the air with your foot, and stuffed your hands into your pockets, readying yourself for an unwanted goodbye.

You raised your head and faced him. Two people, fumbling for a way to stay like this. Were both of you waiting for some divine intervention? For a third person, a passive observer to suddenly step in and give you a friendly nudge? All the signs were pointing to a sure-fire success, and yet hesitation, doubt and insecurity remained as the devil on both your shoulders. Perhaps this was not meant to be, and you merely served one another as a time passer, a cure for boredom, and eventually destined to bid your farewells. Your lips parted, and you inhaled, about to say the dreaded words, when-

“I can drive you.”

“Huh?”

“If you want.”

He officially short-circuited as he could not wait any longer. Had Yunho been a poet or a writer, hell, maybe even if he had stayed an engineer, he could have come up with something more impressive, but at the end of the day, the message would be the same. Let’s go together. Let’s go anywhere together. Come fly with me.

Now, it was one thing to hope, and a wholly different one to expect, and you sure as hell had not been doing the latter. So, when Yunho took the leap and reached out to you, and to your future self, you needed to take a moment to internally squeal. And then try your best to keep it cool and answer like a proper adult, rather than the inner giddy schoolchild who was on their umpteenth celebratory somersault.

“I would want that. But aren’t your parents waiting for you?” your response was light and breezy, and an attempt to showcase, once again, that you had paid attention to him and could recall why he was here in the first place.

“Well, I mean, I don’t usually do this… but if you are into meeting parents so early…”

“Oh, come on!” you giggled, playfully hitting Yunho’s upper arm as he grinned wide.

“Totally serious, Y/N, I am totally serious.” He responded, sarcasm dripping from his words.

He pointed in the direction of the car rentals and took the small suitcase you had brought with you in his free hand. Ever the gentleman.

“And if you are free at any point, I would love to show you around.” He continued as you ambled on, barely any space between you.

“As long as it is by foot or car, I am free today and tomorrow afternoon.”

“I wish I had the car from Back to The Future so that I could impress you with my piloting skills, alas, I’ll have to disappoint you with… are they advertising new Kia models? Y/N, not all is lost!”

“Now to figure out which one looks most like a Yunho-mobile.”

“We’ll figure it out, take an online test that matches MBTI to a car or something.”

“Don’t tempt me, or I might actually do that.” You warned in jest and proceeded to take out your phone to make a point. This seemed to have an effect on Yunho, as he stopped abruptly and began searching for his own device.

“Oh! That reminds me! Your five-star guarantee Uber driver would like to have your number. You know, for announcing his arrival, of course.” As you typed in your digits, and then proceeded to save his number on your phone after he had texted you a string of airplane emojis you ideated out loud:

“I can already see the review I shall write: car may or may not take off and grow wings during journey. Passenger discretion is advised."

“If that’s the case, I’d be more than happy to hold your hand again, or maybe something more serious to protect against turbulence?” he winked, and you felt heat rising to your cheeks.

“I think I’ll have to write a piece about your methods.”

“Just make sure to mention that they are exclusive to Jeong Yunho, your private pilot,” well that was an original, yet explicit expression of interest, “and speaking of reporting, I am taking you to teacher Hwang’s for some proper networking.”

“Yeah, and what about my crew?”

“Pilots are no strangers to crews, trust me on that.” he answered promptly.

“I can imagine.”

You and Yunho stood still, eyes locked. Your 'spring' ahead of you.

“Now, shall we be off?” he gestured towards the rentals office, but not removing his gaze.

“Go on ahead, be my guide.”

Given half a billion potential soul mates, your chance of finding your true love is one in 10,000.

1 in 50 airplane passengers meet the love of their life on board an aircraft.

And when it came to you and Yunho, the probability was simply 1. 100%. No other way.

Perhaps it was a good thing that you were scared of flying.

[fatuismooches]

HIII ITS ME AGAIN.

I been thinking about reader just one day bringing home a puppy 😭 like they just waltz in with a dog in they arms and Dottore looks at them in confusion "Why do you have a dog." "I want to keep it!" "No."

Eventually he agrees because reader said they wouldnt snuggle with him for a week and so now theres just a lil puppy running around the lab (I like to think Zandy and puppy become friends....peace and love) and a new rule is added to the handbook that the dog is to be treated with the highest respect 💀 Dog has its own coat and is so spoiled. mf basically owns the lab now much to Dottores dismay.

aahshhuugghdhbydbuidbjnd oupy.....

Also happy new years eve eve (at the time of me writing this its the 30th) I expect a dottore segment to poof into my room when the clock hits midnight for the new year. If I do not see dottore I will be very discheesed and hoyoverse WILL be hearing from me >:C

- 🐓

OH MY GOSH YES... Ugh he would literally demand you to "return that thing to where it came from" and you'd just beg and beg to keep the cute lil guy... :( You didn't even end up convincing him,, more like you had to slightly threaten your lover to let you keep the dog! He was certainly not happy about that... (I can also imagine reader walking in with a suspicious lump underneath their coat,, and Dottore demanding them to take it off and then he's met with the puppy eyes of both you and the dog,, he's SO done with you and your shenanigans 😭)

Thankfully, despite how much the pup runs around it hasn't caused any lab disasters (yet) but the segments are sure getting jealous of it,, What's so special about running after a dog? You have them, what could it have that they don't?? Zandy is the only one who understands as you said... he loves all the attention the dog gives him! He loves playing fetch and giving it tummy rubs and head pats! (Also whenever the segments try to be mean to him the dog is on guard duty,,) Rules are added to the book on how to treat it with the utmost respect otherwise the dog will report back to you (and you'll know who the transgressor was, somehow.)

Does Dottore warm up to your furry friend? Maybe, maybe not, maybe he learns to tolerate it,, but when the dog comes to quietly snooze at his feet he doesn't shoo it away at least!

(It's still New Year's Eve as I write this... so in advance happy New Year's to you 🐓 anon!! Hoping that Dottore segment poofs into your room fr 🙏🙏)

[presidenthades]

I think you've mentioned before is we really don't know how Rhaenrya would act if Daemon and her actually had a son/ Alyssa was an Aegon by either keeping Jace as heir/disinheriting her unless we get her pov. But daemon seemed to think his son would become heir, only with Jace as his wife despite the age difference if I'm remembering correctly from the handbook, or at least a situation similar to that. In this situation at least I'm pretty sure Rhaenrya would probably run into problems with her own succession if she did disinherit Jace because even if she did say "im heir because my father chose me" and that's not even mentioning how the Velaryons might react or Jace who probably doesn't want to marry her brother whose twelve years younger than her. So I would imagine the green and the blacks tension start floating again, Jace is probably still dutiful and no eloping occurs in this timeline so she's stuck in a an engagement she doesn't want and her inheritance taken from her. So do you think in this scenario Aegon says fuck it I'm becoming king so I can take Jace as my queen and give her rightful position not tied to her younger half brother, and actually makes strides to becoming a half decent ruler. Because to him he's seems Jace tear herself apart since she was seven to become the perfect heiress and suddenly his sister has a son with and uncle he hates and the power and position is rightfully Jace's is torn away and she would become merely a consort, probably an influential one like Alysanne but still a consort at the end of the day. While becoming king means Jace would probably still end up in that postion, it's okay to him because he loves her and he believes he could give her the power she rightfully deserves and she would be married to him at the end of the day. Though I suppose all of this probably means that the golds faction probably ends up forming at the end of the day again because Aegon is unwilling to be his grandfather's puppet and otto after seeing Jcae being disinherited in favor of her brother probably went back to plan B and wants to marry Aegon and Helaena again. Meanwhile Jace is probably torn in between doing her duty and at the end of the day, the resentment she might feel stirring at being passed over. ( and whose to say that viserra being born or visenya even won't become a better option as a bride for and Aegon the younger and she would end up with nothing in the end because she's not even the heir to driftmark.)

At least that's how I imagine a scenario like that might play out because as you've mentioned and showed that at the end of the day what Aegon ultimately wants is Jace and what is best for Jace. And if that means he has to usurp his older sister if that is the only way for him to have Jace then so be it.

You captured Daemon’s thought process in the Handbook pretty accurately. You’re right that Rhaenyra might not be completely aligned with him. In The Golds, Rhaenyra admits she would’ve made a son with Laenor her heir over Jace, but a son with Daemon wouldn’t come with as much Velaryon support. She would be conflicted.

But the kids start plotting the elopement before Alyssa/Aegon III is born. Jace gets fed up with Rhaenyra as early as the Daemyra elopement, because she feels like she has to do her duty while Rhaenyra does what she wants. If Rhaenyra can marry the man she wants, why can’t Jace do the same?

So the timeline is something like Lil Aegon is born, Jace elopes with Aegon soon after, then they all go before Viserys to sort it out. That might be where things change. At this point, Daemon has only known Jace for about 9 months, and she’s been away at Driftmark for 6 of those months. He likes Jace, but he’s not as attached to her as he is later in the Handbook. If he has a son with Rhaenyra, he might push for her to name Lil Aegon her new heir rather than keep Jace, who is now married to a grandson of Otto Hightower.

So there could be some drama where Jace is disinherited ostensibly for marrying Aegon. If she’s disinherited, then she probably stays with him and the Greens in KL rather than go home and wait for three years. Jace definitely has a lot of bitter feelings toward her mother and Daemon about this, and the Greens have renewed incentive to plot to put Aegon on the throne. And Aegon might go along with it if it’s the only way Jace gets to be queen. 🧐

[belphegor1982]

More RPG nonsense! When I first took the plunge into D&D I went for a spellcasting class instantly because I've been interested in bards well before I even really dug into RPG for real; meanwhile, the Best Beloved has been playing for a few months and prefers to stick with the martial classes, especially barbarian and fighters, because he feels he knows where he's at when he hits creatures with a weapon and is reluctant to mess around with spells.

Except. The other day, he comes home from work and asks me "What's a class that casts spells with a magic wand [ie. an arcane focus] but doesn't need to prepare a spell list for the day?" I say he can go with a sorcerer or a warlock, although more the sorcerer if he doesn't want his character's magic to come from a patron. I am. SO proud ^^

So we grabbed the Player's Handbook and a few moments later here's what he tells me (and writes on his new character sheet!):

"Okay, so there's this half-orc, Mathurin, whose dad used to be a sutler in an orc army (basically a cook) and saved and scrimped enough to buy and run his own tavern. At some point he found a weird stick on the battlefield and kept it amongst his mementos (and later gave it to his infant son as a rattle/to teeth on). He got married (to a female half-orc) and runs his tavern with his wife, and their little family is very happy.

Mathurin had a happy childhood and helped out in the tavern. Unfortunately, when he tried blowing his candles on his 19th birthday, the flames turned into a fireball. By some miracle nobody got hurt, but Mathurin decided not to put his family in danger any more and learn to master his new capabilities - and left in search of someone who could help him, his old rattle/lucky stick still in his pocket. He's wondering if it might have magical powers of its own… (it's an arcane focus, but he doesn't know that yet :D)

And look, Mathurin Dubonnet the half-orc is adorable. He has muscles and chub (lil' belly going on here), with green skin, short curly black hair, and a broad, honest face. He's naive and kind and dresses like a middle class hobbit. He's just a thought experiment for now and I really hope I'll get to see the Best Beloved play him because I love him so much already 🥰

[matchagyudon]

Charisma, Charisma Battle Anthem - Fumiya Ito English Lyrics Translation

TL Notes:

I kind of butcher it in the English translation, but what Fumiya calls a “Yukichi Bromide” is just 10,000 yen. He likes to collect a bunch of them like bromides, like a hardcore stan with their ita bags and rooms of the same merch. I think I managed to get the point across. The American version I guess would be “Lincoln Photocards” or something like that lol.

I really had to keep myself from writing “my peppy lil pro idol” because maybe Fumiya would have come off a little Discord admin-y. But I think Fumiya would do anything for some yen at this rate. Anyways, JPY is just the currency (Japanese Yen). Like how he calls the Yukichi note a bromide, he essentially relates JPY to an idol he adores.

そそり勃つ/sosoritatsu: To become erect (like a nipple/penis/etc).

I don’t even know how to explain where Amahiko gets asparagus from 野天門. 野天 (noten) is to be in the open air and 門 (mon) is gate. His ass is a gate…. Also thank you to my friend for pointing out that で (de) is in fact a location marker, and with the shape of asparagus…. You can see asparagus inside Amahiko’s Wild Gate ;)

札束 (satsutaba) is a bundle of cash/stack of money. So he’s collecting those bands!!!

“Do well on your mission and “you will be rewarded”. This most definitely has some religious connotation, given the verse as well as the whole thing of Fumiya and his “godly” message. A missionary going on a mission.

ビターな甘味処 “This place is bittersweet” 甘味処/kanmidokoro is a cafe featuring Japanese sweets. Bitter sweet[shop].

“Shit that makes something out of nothing call that Holy shit” Ohse our Holy Mary <3

Tera, peta, and exa are SI prefixes. Tera is 1012, peta is 1015, and exa is 1018. Lots of beauty to go around.

I can’t keep beating around the bush anymore with Amahiko. I try to fluff up anything he says but if he were to say “I LOVE ROUGH ANAL SEX” in full blown English what am I supposed to do at this point. I give up.

Fun fact! Look up χάρισμα. This is read as charisma…. Which in Greek, means gift of god! A divine boon.

Raps are not my strong suit. Maybe one day I’ll be able to make this make sense. In the meantime, I tried. Not my best work. I really appreciate the writers creativity though <3 even though it melts my mind a lot of the times.

“1, 2, 3” Chasin’, chasin’ after that paper like collectible photo cards “1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7” Driven High, you’ll get your fair share “1, 2, 3” JPY, my peppy pro idol A handbook? Nah, how ‘bout a tour guide? “Charisma Style Rap Battle Break!”

Didn’t I already explain it to ya? Well to sum it up At the beginning of the week Let's call it Charisma Monday Interpol scatters Asia’s allies Marching alongside them, inciting right and wrong

Even birds who tweet their blessings have morals Attaining that QOL comes with responsibility Adulterated fraternizing, Not love for you Try to follow a different justice without diminishing it

Take advantage of that gap in my armor I’m a speedy, pro-slave Just a stray dog if you don’t call my name So tip my scale with endless burdens

Rebel then counter, counter, counter And counter again Lemme paint a picture of me for ya I’m like a coyote in the Sonoran desert Bloodthirsty and comin’ for ya throat

Beat down the greed that’s outta your league I’ve got a great view from down here like the shitty bug I am There’s 7 of us, but I’m the only dwarf The color of snow white Neurosis

No need for even a sliver of eccentricity Am I a necessity? “Seeking irregularities” Even from a long, long, long, long, long time ago, I’m a legacy Yes, I’m super beautiful ♪

The inevitable is calm So stiffen up This world’s fate is sexy! It’s sexy to read “Amahiko’s Wild Gate” With “ASSparagus!”

Magnificent 7th wonder I reach out and grab some bands Now it’s time to shine This Charisma Alchemy We’ve already got it in the bag

24/7 We set out, under the same roof With our everyday chaotic synergy 24/7 Eating out of the same pot Check out our flashy energy

Don’t give a shit about Pitiful jealousy Don’t give a shit about Living shamefully

Just shout out whenever And you can tell by the sound of footsteps

24/7 We set out, under the same roof With our everyday chaotic synergy 24/7 Eating out of the same pot Check out our flashy energy

We ain’t friends so stay out of our way ‘S no good? This is the path between Good and Evil

However! We’ve got rules here too If someone’s in trouble We’re all going down together

“1, 2, 3” Chasin’, chasin’ after that paper like collectible photo cards “1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7” Driven High, you’ll get your fair share “1, 2, 3” JPY, my peppy pro idol A handbook? Nah, how ‘bout a tour guide? “Charisma Style Rap Battle Break!”

I wonder, are there spawns of demons and gods? And when you sift through them, how many people will be left? Do well on your mission and “you will be rewarded” This place is bittersweet

A pure white monologue No need for a secretary, just this diary You’re a caller of injustice So let’s get to the bottom of this, are you good or evil

Another successful case of tendonitis If you can’t get it, then we aren’t on the same page Those who are scrupulous Are squares My load tolerance is more than double-digits

Rage Against everything in this world Always angry, forgetting how to show mercy “Right?” Garbage that don’t burn That’s bullshit I’ll light it up anyways

Scum who is bewildered by those who are gentle A dark craft that drains the joys and sorrows of peace Shit that makes something out of nothing call that Holy shit A digital tattoo engraver

A neverending diffusion in every direction My beauty multiplies: tera, peta, and exa Mirror, oh mirror Even if you can’t understand the words The answer is revealed right in front of you

Extremely☆Horny A midsummer monster Quivering☆swaying A gift from God Locked in a grapple Inside of you Is a treasure Nearly bare!

If you back out now, it’ll vanish Your offerings of one hundred million Are not nearly enough But they can offset it “Rainy days” So from the back With no motion “Strike” While the iron’s still hot

24/7 We set out, under the same roof With our everyday chaotic synergy 24/7 Eating out of the same pot Check out our flashy energy

Don’t give a shit about Pitiful jealousy Don’t give a shit about Living shamefully

Just shout out whenever And you can tell by the sound of footsteps

24/7 We set out, under the same roof With our everyday chaotic synergy 24/7 Eating out of the same pot Check out our flashy energy

We ain’t friends so stay out of our way ‘S no good? This is the path between Good and Evil

However! We’ve got rules here too If someone’s in trouble We’re all going down together

“1, 2, 3” Chasin’, chasin’ after that paper like collectible photo cards “1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7” Driven High, you’ll get your fair share “1, 2, 3” JPY, my peppy pro idol A handbook? Nah, how ‘bout a tour guide? “Charisma Style Rap Battle Break!”

Charisma Battle Anthem (google.com)

[salternateunreality2]

The Untamed aka Zackiroth brain rot updates for episodes 12 and 13 because HECK I am eating well today.

Spoilers below:

Heidegger: bring him out

Sephiroth: *injured, on the sad side of genocide, hostage, still standing tall, suffering*

Zack: SEPH! 😁 Genesis, look, it's Seph! My Seph! Hi Sephiroth! Hey! Hey, hey, hey, hey Sephiroth! How's it going? You good? Hi! Hi Sephiroth! *Waves* Hi! 🐶🐶🐶❤️😁❤️

Sephiroth: 😐 *trying not to let Zack get in trouble, secretly really wants a hug*

-------

Heidegger: Sephiroth, recite the rules of Shinra!

Sephiroth: No.

Heidegger: Random Guy, recite the rules of Shinra!

Random Guy: I cannot.

Heidegger: SOMEONE HAD BETTER ANSWER. Zack, recite the rules of Shinra!

Zack: Ok! I studied, so I should be good *starts doing squats, winking at Sephiroth, posturing, stretching*

Heidegger: NOW!

Zack: alright, alright, keep your shorts on...*ahem* Be on time. Do not be late. Have good posture. Always be sober. Do not laugh at your elders. D-

Heidegger: *apoplectic* HOW DARE YOU RECITE THE RULES OF THE CRESCENT CLAN?!?!!!??!

Zack: oops, lol, I'm a dumb dumb 😂

Heidegger: TO THE POOP DECK, ALL THREE OF YOU!!!

------

At the poop deck, Zack gets in trouble and there is a glorious series of Sephiroth and Zack standing up for each other. Heidegger almost hits Zack, Sephiroth's wounded leg gets it instead, while he's on the ground, Zack draws Heidegger's hits, Sephiroth tries to stop Zack from being thrown in the dungeon, Heidegger almost throws Sephiroth in the dungeon, Zack saves his butt, just lots of self-sacrifice for bae on both ends ❤️

If you need me I'll be crying and petting their heads.

-------

IN THE DUNGEON THERE IS A PUPPER AND I THOUGHT ZACK WOULD BEFRIEND IT AND I WAS WRONG AND NOW AM VERY SAD 😭😭😭

Instead, pupper did a CHOMP on Zack.

Bb Cloud sneaks in to stop the pupper and give Zack meds.

Zack: wazzup?

Cloud: the Crescents were half-killed

Zack: *skips right over the entire clan* IS SEPHIROTH INJURED?!

Cloud: yeah

Zack: *saves the meds Cloud brought instead of using them on his FeStErInG dOg BiTe*

-------

Later, they all go on a walk and Zack spends the whole time Bothering Sephiroth, asking if he wants a piggyback, getting Red Lady to stop the march, and fetching water for his boo.

10/10 good pupper.

Genesis the whole time: brother, we are in a HOSTAGE SITUATION, keep it in your pants!

Zack:

--------

During their walk, they go spelunking! ...it doesn't go great.

I mean, it goes great for me, I get lots of SephZack saving each other from giant dick heads (literal and figurative; if you know, you know #murdertortoise)

---------

Heidegger: *starts a fight*

Zack: Anyone who's a giant dickhead and starts fights because he's got a big scary clan backing him will be executed and beheaded and spat on!

Heidegger: HOW DARE YOU SAY THAT SHIT?!

Zack: ...that's literally in your clan's handbook. Line 213. The handbook you forced everyone to memorize and made my lil buddy pass out over (btw that happened). It ALSO says don't insult your ancestors like a dick, and you just did. The punishment, as outlined on line 376, is ALSO DEATH because wtf man y'all are metal.

Heidegger's cronies: ohhhh snap, oh no he didn't!

Heidegger: 🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬

-------

Zack puts the sexy in sexy wound care by, I shit you not, threatening to undress Sephiroth, then undressing himself until Sephiroth COUGHS UP BLOOD OUT OF SHEER GAY PANIC, which Zack is happy about because apparently it's a vital step in the healing process. 😂😂😂😂😂

--------

Zack: hah, I'm glad I got branded by the crazy woman (btw that happened) instead of her getting that cute chick, because that would SUCK for the chick. She was totally into me, and will remember me forever after this *smug dumb bi noises*.

Sephiroth: 😳��*sad gay rejection noises* 😡 *angry noises* You shouldn't flirt if you don't mean it.

Zack: awww, are you jealous?

Sephiroth: 🫠*gay panic noises*

Zack: you have a crush on her, don't you! 😂 *idiot bi noises of denial*

Sephiroth: 👁️👄👁️ *stares into Zack's soul with the gayest longing ever* 🫠 no.

-------

Zack-approved medical care:

* not treating your dog bites because bae might need treatment later

* JUST GOING SWIMMING with open wounds

* forcing bae into gay panic so severe that he coughs up "stale blood"

* wrapping the shortest sticks ever DIRECTLY ONTO OPEN WOUNDS presumably to stabilize the bone that was broken? Months? Ago?

* shrugging

* patting open wounds with dirty, unwashed hands

* leaving bae in wet clothes but it's ok because you dried your coat and put it over his wet clothes.

-------

Also Zack makes Sephiroth cry, which is probably good for him, and likely the first and only time Sephiroth has opened up this much to anyone in his adult life I AM DECEASED IN A PUDDLE OF MY OWN TEARS 😭😭😭

[spectralscathath]

What would each Antares character play as in a tabletop RPG like Dungeons and Dragons? What races, classes and builds? Why? What does it say about them as a character?

now this IS a fun one. I'm gonna go with standard D&D because I know it well enough, though there is actually an in-universe dungeon-crawler tabletop RPG called Grimmlings & Grottos. But anyway! Let's do some breakdowns. Let's just set it tentatively at the beginning of the story, because what the characters might play at the end would be very different. But lets just stick with early days for now. I'm also gonna stick to the people, so far, who might currently have played in Ruby's hypothetical D&D game, so thats mostly her family and friend group. Beacon Era, even. Or else this would be VERY long.

First of all: Ruby is the DM. No question. She wants to tell stories, make homebrew stuff, and gets to play all of the monsters and NPCs. done deal. If she had to be a player at all she'd probably want to be something she can do a lot of fun roleplaying in, and also probably be really rules-lawyering and try to swing it all in her favour. Which makes me think that her go to is a Stout Halfling Dhampir (its a lineage that goes on top of a base race) as an Arcane Trickster Rogue or something ("yeah DM sneak attack is once per turn"). But yeah Ruby is the DM. As for why? She likes storytelling, and she likes having a measure of control over things around her, she's not ever been a 'go-with-the-flow' person, she thinks and plans and even as leader her worries were 'what if things get out of control and I can't handle that' rather than 'i'm too young for this'. And, well, Ruby is all about fairytales and grand adventures, what suits her better than making that grand adventure?

Which is to say: when the players go off script she gets grumpy about it. She'll roll with it but she'll complain. "Yang I gave you eight seperate story threads and you picked PIRACY? that wasn't one of them do you know how many crew member NPCs I have to roll up now?"

I like to think that canonically the Xiao Long-Rose-Branwen household has played at least one session with Ruby DMing and Yang instantly picked the highest damage output possible and built an Orc Barbarian (Path of the Beast). Backstory? What's that? "Her name's Ember and she's killed twenty people, lets go kill monsters'. I think this should be quite self-explanatory to Yang's beginning characterisation. She wants to skip ahead to the cool fight scenes where she can describe how badass her character is.

Taiyang and Qrow (they're mostly here to support Ruby's interests and don't actually get what's going on but they have a great attitude and Ruby's patient with them) both individually saw 'Bard' and Taiyang saw 'well that looks fun, I can make up lil rhymes' and Qrow saw 'I can be a sex, drugs, rock-and-roll guy that's the epitome of cool' and drummed up a bard duo called where one is an aging punk rocker Tiefling based on all Qrow's fav emo bands as a twenty-year-old and Taiyang saw 'gold dragonborn' and blacked out. They both picked College of Eloquence because it looked easiest. Not much to say about why beyond 'parental support and really trying to understand their kid's interests' which is why Tai is the best parent in Antares and why Qrow- well, sometimes he hits the mark.

Weiss has no fuckin clue what any of this is aside from 'nerd stuff for plebians that I suppose I must join for team building'. Basic first options on the list, human fighter, basic stats, doesn't really get into it for a couple of sessions but once she twigs that the dice is like a numbers game it really catches her interest and she starts looking into it more. She snags Eldritch Knight as her path for access to spells and ends up having a good time. Its a microcosm of Weiss's 'defrosting ice queen' plotline. Once she gets into to she gets into it.

Blake actually read the players handbook for more than half a second and decided she wanted to be creative and have a bit of fun while also quickly making the connection that the party was very tanky, so she decided to create a Water Genasi Sorcerer with the path of Lunar Sorcery, since she thought the options it had were fun and she absolutely did extra reading to decide. Mostly this ties into Blake's early character of, though not looking like it, actually genuinely really wanting to get along with her friends while also rediscovering her interests. She also decides to play an optimist, just to try and have that bit of escapism she so desperately wants. Oh- play as a Tabaxi? No, why do you ask?

Onto JNPR, Jaune has the distinction of Acutally Having Knowledge of This, he strikes me as a 'oh I love D&D podcasts I've always wanted to play it'. His dicerolls are, obviously, fucking horrendous at all times, but he ends up playing as a dwarf paladin, I think, good ol Oath of Devotion. He just wants to do a bit of wish fulfilment as a hero, but he doesn't really push it to the point of being a pure 'must follow all the rules' type of paladin roleplay. He just wants to enjoy having friends and mostly tries to keep things chill at the table.

Pyrrha has no idea what she's doing either but she's trying really hard even though she can't wrap her head around any of it. She picked a Cleric because it seemed nice, she could be the party healer. Life domain, Ruby threw her a softball and said 'that's the healing one' and Pyrrha went 'yep'. She just wants to be a normal girl who plays games with a friend group and also be useful in a way that will keep them from ditching her. Gotta please everyone, and healing- it's nice. Useful. They'll invite her more to play.

Nora wants to be a barbarian too, specifically a Goliath with path of Wild Magic for the chaos because she wants to try derail the campaign like she heard about, but Ruby plays favourites with her sister and tells her to pick a new one so Nora goes sulking through the book again for something else, sees the words 'blood' and 'hunter' next to each other, and goes feral. Order of the Lycan is an instant follow-up. Race? Oh- yeah, still a Goliath. Nora just wants to fuck shit up and be with her friends, there's no underlying deeper character issues. Possibly height envy, maybe.

Ren, similarly to Blake, reads the handbook cover to cover, does his own research, and gets super into the idea of Roleplaying as well. However, he goes full 'how dark can I get away with' and creates a warlock, specifically with a Great Old One as patron. A haunted man, troubled by shadows and loss of the past long before being cursed with a treacherous deal that leads to the nightmares and madness of the present, desperately struggling to hold onto sanity as their patron eats a piece of their mind with every spell he casts. Yanno, standard Lovecraftian horror. Ren's really trying to be dramatic and hoping for a tragic end, where his character is twisted into the secret main villain, and Ruby thinks that would be really cool and is pushing for it if only the rest of the campaign wasn't trying to power of friendship this. Ren's just trying to lowkey work through some stuff, it's fine. It's totally fine. Oh- and he picked Pact of the Tome, he wants more cantrips.

Sun got invited along and was like 'gnome ranger lets fuckin go'. Epitome of 'holy shit I can have a pet dinosaur this game RULES' as a player. Mostly coasting on dice luck but can pull out one HELL of a bit of roleplay when he wants to. It's beautiful. He really wishes this campaign could go on forever, it's easier when the bad guys are just figurines on a table.

Penny is ready and waiting to play but she never gets the chance to join a session. Her schedule just doesn't line up, unfortunately. And she hasn't decided her class- she'll see what everyone else needs for an effective party balance first and then she'll pick one. So she doesn't get to pick a subclass. But she'd really like to give it a try if she could! She'd play a standard human character. No there's no other meaning in her wanting to be a human character when she could be something way more interesting, not at all.

Ruby offered to Sun to bring Emerald along for a session but Emerald said no. F in the chat for Emerald (one day).

[an-aura-about-you]

guess what we have all decided it's too lazy a day to go on a hike, so I'm jumping right into Handbook for Mortals Chapter 3:

when we last left our hero, Scheherazade started yelling at Mac the technical director because he made the oh so unreasonable request of asking to schedule a meeting with her to go over the mechanics of her trick so it can be safely incorporated into the show. because, y'know, no other technical director in the world would ask that. Charles comes up to end the row, takes Zade to his office, and asks her to tell him everything. the chapter ends there and we're never gonna see that meeting.

which means it's time for Chapter 3: The Hierophant

-Zade talks about how for the first time she's really out on her own as if she doesn't have baby's first job at daddy's show.

-I don't understand why her first day would be with wardrobe. seems like her measurements could have been taken during the week that the administrative slop was taken care of.

-there's a tangent about Halloween costumes and Zade mentions how she always wants her costume to both be completely recognizable and something so unique that no one else has it. do I even have to mention how not possible that is? it may not fit the letter of having your cake and eating it too but it certainly fits the spirit.

-for some reason Zade has to strip down to her underwear for her measurements. I know this is for cheesecake purposes, but I've had my measurements taken before and I was able to just. wear my clothes. I COULD see this making more sense in a Vegas show since skimpier costumes might need more precision, but there's no indication of that? besides, I would think the most important aspect of the costume for Zade's dive is that it would be a swimsuit.

-we're introduced to Zade's chatty costumer Lil and more or less get her whole backstory. however, we're not seeing Lil say it. we're just seeing Zade think it to us. and she ends up tuning Lil out as she continues to get measured. this is another part of what I was talking about before about how Zade wants people as objects and not as people. she doesn't care to listen to Lil, doesn't concern herself with any sort of professional camaraderie. you don't HAVE to be friends with your coworkers, but coworkers are one of the easiest sources of friends in one's adult life since a lot of friendship relies on proximity at the start of it. and Zade is essentially alone in Las Vegas, so making connections is actually pretty vital. but Lil only matters to Zade as far as what she can do for her, like giving Zade compliments or making Halloween and renfaire costumes for her.

-and now Zade feels awkward because she doesn't have anything to compliment Lil on in return for Lil's compliment to her. now this might just be a guess, but do you think you MIGHT have some idea of what to compliment her on if you, oh, I don't know, paid attention to her while she was talking to you?

-Zade gestures to some costumes and asks, "You make any of these?" which sounds like a risky move if you haven't been paying attention to the conversation since she very well might have mentioned that.

-and we get the first of our infamous italics breaks, sections of the book that follow a character besides Zade so they appear to be in the third person. as for why Sarem does this, my guess is that she's one of the like 17 people who read EL James's The Mister because that book does the same thing between its two main characters. however, there are sections of the italic parts in this book that this IS still from Zade's first person pov, so I'm not sure what exactly is going on.

-also the whole reason we jump to another perspective is so we can catch Mac peeping on Zade while she's in her panties. can't miss the optimal view for cheesecake.

-like. I'm no prude about this, but there are right and wrong ways to do the cheesecake and this is just engineered all wrong. let's look at a slightly better example from Lunar 2. in that one, it makes SENSE that Lucia would have to undress completely because she's wanted by Althena's Guard and her dramatic red and black outfit is too distinctive. our protagonist/her love interest Hiro does not look in on her, but pervy Ronfar finds a spot because he wants to watch. Hiro accidentally sees what's happening but only because he's trying to block Ronfar's view and falls into the room. it's obvious why the scene is here, but Hiro still retains a measure of higher ground because he didn't initiate it or willingly participate.

-I also want to take a moment to say that this scene confirms Zade is whiter than white. We will come back to that.

-(though I guess that really isn't surprising since Zade's family have been landowners in Tennessee since the 1700s. I know we're never gonna come back to that, but I'm also not gonna forget it.)

-man, we are pushing the "enemies" part of this enemies to lovers arc. you guys had exactly one spat. yeah, a Meet Ugly can be sufficient fuel for a while, but it's been a week and there hasn't been any other word of how Zade and Mac might grate on each other.

-actually if I'm gonna be talking about enemies to lovers, I'm gonna talk about how to do it well because it feels so easy to botch. now obviously writers can write whatever the hell they want and I don't have to like it. but the dynamic I personally crave with enemies to lovers is people who are equal but opposite and recognize that. they don't have to recognize it right away, but it does work best if they recognize it during the enemies stage because from there comes respect for the enemy, and that's the foundation that they're going to land on when they're inevitably pushed onto common ground. we sometimes see this sort of thing in superhero comics when they have to work together with a villain from their rogues gallery that is into crime for reasons besides hurting people. the hero in that situation knows and trusts that the villain won't do any killing because they have that moral in common even though they are otherwise on opposite sides. this sort of team-up also requires an acknowledgement, spoken or otherwise, that the hero and the villain have complementary skills that aid them in this shared goal. to me a good enemies to lovers arc should have that kind of flavor.

-oh geez I haven't even mentioned Tad yet in this. I probably should since he's Thomas Ian Nicholas's character and thus a major side character. he's Mac's best friend, and he catches Mac peeping on Zade. he's just here to do what I'm gonna guess is the same shtick his character does in American Pie. though I will give Tad this: when someone asks him why Mac's so moody, he at least leaves it at, "Don't worry about it, it has nothing to do with you." I can at least respect that. (it might be the only thing I respect about him, but hey.)

-hey we finally got the introduction to our other love interest Jackson! holy shit, the mess of who this character is is way more interesting than the character himself. let me see if I can cram in all the juicy bits. Jackson in this book is the front man for this fictional version of real life band the Plain White T's. he is also Jackson Rathbone's proxy character, the guy who played Jasper in the Twilight movies. Rathbone's here because he was in the band 100 Monkeys, which the author used to manage. I hesitate to call this cringe because I'm usually a proclaimer of "cringe is dead long live cringe," but holy shit is this supremely awkward. especially since Rathbone's gone on record saying he doesn't like Sarem too much.

-"Why can't I form sentences that actually make any sense right now?" I mean why start now?

-oof, the repetition about Jackson's guitar and Zade wondering if he's in the house band.

-Jackson is impressed that Zade knows how to play the guitar. I'm gonna put a little reminder here that Chapter 0 of this book ended with Zade listening to a Chicks song, an all women band where every member can play the guitar.

-and we're back for another installment of When Is This Story Set? Jackson has shown up to give Zade a tour of the place and she has to run back to get her phone. He quotes Right Here Waiting by Richard Marx, and our 25ish year old protagonist got the reference right away. this indicates to me that Zade is probably around my age since I also got the reference but don't know if the majority of people younger than me would because that song came out like three years after I was born. the only reason I got the reference is because the song was on one of those compilation albums that was advertised all the time when I was little. I was 25 in 2011, so this actually sort of tracks with the year we got before and the story might take place in the early 2010s.

-also I find that hilarious if Sarem is still insisting that she'll play Zade in the movie that still hasn't been made because if she IS around my age, well, I'm 38 now. the "teens" in the movie version of Grease are more convincing.

-"I had been so scared about my decision to leave home" well you did a poor job showing it because the chapter when you left home had you singing along to your radio in high spirits.

and that's what we end the chapter on, Zade being glad she decided to move to Vegas because hot boy. I'm tempted to move on to the next chapter because hoo boy is THAT going to be a shitshow, but either way I'll end this post here.

[imabillyami]

Thoughts on Smackdown?

Oh lovely anon, you’re back!

I’m always so baffled when I get one of these, cause I see these being sent (I assume by you) to all my favorite blogs and I go 🥺🥺🥺 that you would even think of me. Thank you so much! It’s always welcome and appreciated 💜

Now let’s get into it, shall we?

Any Smackdown that starts off with "Main Event Jey Uso" (that intro gave me goosebumps - the good kind) already has me smiling - what can I say, I’m that predictable lol.

Roman immediately interrupting him after his lil intro, before he can get another word in? That man is such a petty diva 😭🥰

Paul not carrying the extra titles, but the Ula Fala instead had me go 👀 (does it mean those titles are gone for good? I kinda hope not, cause I’ll be honest, I’d miss Paul decked out in those). The way he held on to that thing the entire night cracked me up so much. Paul in general was genius as always, his mannerisms are gold gold gold. God I can’t praise that man enough, seriously. (I sincerely hope Jey kicks his ass again at Summerslam, mostly cause it’s so entertaining to watch him squirm and beg for his life lmao)

Roman was a gaslighting handbook once again this week 😭😭😭 "Lil Jey" "you only like the Usos because of me" "because I made you that" just STOOOOP. Man, he made me wanna cry. And don’t get me started on Jey’s microexpressions during all that. That man could teach a masterclass at that point, same as Roman. These two are in a whole different stratosphere compared to anyone else.

And when Jey fired back GOOD LORD. That man would rip himself apart for his family. He LOVES with such an intensity, it’s so beautiful and heartbreaking to watch 🥺 "I believed in you, Uce." "But you broke this family." "And it is all your fault." Yes Jey! Preach it! (Honestly I’m so glad that Jey is done taking all the blame & Roman’s abuse.)

He struggled so hard during hat last part when Roman was trying to turn it all back on him and place the blame on him and make him doubt (and god Paul’s lil "Rightfully so, rightfully so" when Roman talked about Solo loving and respecting him more? That shit was so cruel. All of it was, really. We’re getting glimpses of psychopath 2020 Roman and I’m all here for it.)

Roman keeps pointing out and spewing out stuff about Jey costing Jimmy all these things and I’m so scared that this is gonna end up in Jimmy turning against Jey. I know Jon and Josh want the feud more than anything, but I’m like… please don’t? Just… keep that to yourselves until Roman is no longer there to get involved maybe? Alternatively (and we’re going deep into delulu land here) have Jey win at Summerslam, become the new champ and the new chief and then have Jimmy return to "congratulate" him resulting in a turn and a challenge for that position. Gimme a trilogy of that pls and thx. But then what to do with Roman and Solo? A double turn? Like… Jimmy turning on new chief Jey and Solo costing Roman and igniting a feud between them? That could be interesting. (I don’t think that’s gonna happen though. Like I said delulu land, just like any and all hopes that Sami will come out to have Jey’s back at some point.)

The "you’re all alone" part ticked me off. NO HE’S NOT YOU COWARDS, BUT MUCH LIKE ROMAN TALKED ABOUT WIPING JEY OUT OF THE FAMILY & LEGACY, WWE CHOSE TO COMPLETELY WIPE OUT ANY AND ALL MEMORIES OR MENTIONS OF SAMI AND I’M SO PISSED OFF YOU DON’T EVEN UNDERSTAND.

Jey’s pity neck grab (that Roman performed on him so many times before?), that "I already beat you" with that smile? The "I’m gonna beat you again" while looking Roman right in the eye, something he’s been so afraid of for so long? His lil goofy walk out of the ring? SIR you are a menace and I love you! God this version of Jey is just chef’s kiss

Oh god, this is already so long AGAIN and we’re only past the first segment. I apologize for that 😭

That Waller and Jey backstage segment? I cracked up so hard. From Jey’s fake laugh, to that right hand, to his irritated expression. He was having none of that shit. Your honor, I love him. (and I honestly enjoy watching people beat up Waller, so there’s that)

Rey vs. Santos was a great entertaining match (I could’ve gone without seeing Theory’s stupid face, but then maybe the „with all his friends“ line was worth it. It wasn’t the most original, but I’ll take it. My hatred for this guy is… well…), it’s too bad Rey got hurt (which apparently is legitimate, so I’m wishing him a speedy recovery 🙏) and they had to stop the match.

I love Sonya and Chelsea as a tag team so much, they are so damn entertaining 😂 Face Charlotte still isn’t for me (I like her way better as a heel). I’m also awaiting a Bianca heel turn. Pls, I need it! The match was solid in itself, but I don’t get why they have a team of two randomly put together superstars win against their new tag champs? It just takes any and all credibility and momentum away from them? I hate when WWE does that shit. Like… with people who have tagged together a lot before or have been a tag team at some point, I’d get it, y’know? But that’s not the case here, so I’m more frustrated than anything.

I keep forgetting Hit Row is still even in WWE? Oops 😅 Like, no disrespect or anything, but I wish they’d give LA Knight a win in a longer match over someone who’s a legitimate big name in WWE. Just strap that rocket to him and shoot him to the moon already, instead of constantly putting the brakes on him!

The Lashley and Street Profits stuff is so 👀👀👀 That’s a new faction I need pls! I’m very much awaiting the result of what’s currently going on. Anything to get the Profits back on my screen in a bigger role!

I love what they’re teasing with Shotzi and Bayley and Iyo and Asuka. It’s probably the most interesting thing they have going on in the women’s division rn (and not to be a negative nancy, but that tells you a lot about the current state of the women’s division, when the big match that’s happening at the next PLE isn’t even close to being as interesting as anything they’re still teasing in backstage segments). Praying that someone grows a brain and starts making some better booking decisions for their women’s champs and everyone else in that division 🤡

Also - another Battle Royal at a PLE? Those never really get the winner anything and are easily forgotten about, so I’m not a fan. It’s a great thing to have more superstars involved in the PLE, sure, but what’s the payoff here?

I did not care about Anderson vs. Kross one bit, sorry not sorry. And I won’t care about Styles vs. Kross either. The whole gimmick of Kross isn’t working for me to the point where I’m absolutely bored.

Main Event:

They really spoiled us with the amount of screen time Jey/ Roman/ Bloodline got today once again 🥰

We need to take a minute to appreciate the wonder that is crop top Jey Uso, his beautiful tummy and the peek of that BACK TATTOO. THAT BACK TATTOO EXCUSE ME SIR 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😭😭😭

(On another note I don’t get why Waller gets all these main event matches against the big names. Good for him, I guess. Won’t make me more of a fan though. But who knows, maybe he’ll win me over at some point.)

I did mention Roman was a petty diva earlier, right? Well, he was extra petty tonight 💀 Coming down to ringside mid-match to get in Jey’s head? Getting a chair and observing the whole thing like a final boss? My god he’s such a diva 😂

That smile he shot Roman mid-match when he was hanging in the ropes. Don’t matter if that was Jey @ Roman or Josh @ Joe, I cackled to hard 😂 Such a lovely little detail!

That stare down between them 🥵 and the fucking mind games (Jey using the spear, taunting Roman? All while Roman goes back and forth between that arrogant smirk and looking absolutely ticked off?). I’m on the floor. *Sings* They're gonna kill each other come Summerslam.

And then I guess we all saw that after match beat down coming from a million miles away, huh? Roman still in that chair just nodding at Solo like the final boss, only interfering once he sees things are getting out of control, only to be hit by a spear from Jey? God that was delicious! Of course it wasn’t gonna last if it’s 2-on-1 (another missed chance to have SOMEONE *cough* help Jey out), but that little moment? So satisfying. Roman tasting some of his own medicine & getting embarrassed, I love that. Of course he had to destroy Jey after that. And god I HATE HIM, I HATE HIM SO MUCH, but I’m also freaking pissed off at my killer baby, but that just means Roman and Solo are doing their jobs exceptionally well. I’m beyond frustrated and I NEED Jey to win even though I rationally know it’s not happening. They are doing such a stellar job at getting us emotionally invested that I feel sick to my stomach even thinking about what’ll happen if Jey loses.

Overall it was an okay episode for me. The Bloodline stuff was perfect as ever (except for the lack of Sami, but that’s my weekly complaint), the rest of the episode was a bit of a mess booking wise with a few good moments sprinkled in here and there. I’m honestly dreading the day this whole Bloodline business comes to an end (Roman, Paul, Jey &co. aren’t around in that capacity anymore) cause the quality of the product is gonna take a nose dive for sure.

As always, thanks so much for asking/ being interested in my opinions, anon!

Hugs hugs hugs to you ❤️

[tfsroleplay]

"hehe! Very tasty!"

Julian sits in the fake snow of Alterna with Cordelia and Arius, munching away on the last of the desserts they brought with them. Lil Buddy sits next to him, getting handed some of the desserts too.

"I'm glad you like them."

Arius looks at Julian and his Smallfry, still a little confused despite the story they were told that Julian was just raised by Salmonids.

"Still can't believe ya jus' were raised wit' them... Neva really thought much about the Salmonids other than what we were told in that handbook..."

Julian smiles, nodding and lifting Lil Buddy up.

"Lil Buddy best friend, wasn't raised with friend but are family! Gotta go see family soon... Miss them!"

He leans back slightly, suddenly frowning.

"Julian?"

"...Just thinking... Seen a lot of things, good and bad, with Salmonid family... Inklings and Octolings coming to our territory... Taking Golden Eggs for bad reason... People getting hurt cause they try to take our stuff..."

Arius and Cordelia look at each other, both of them were guilty of working for Grizzco without even thinking about it.

"...I suppose we never really thought of the repercussions..."

"Mhm..."

"...Dangerous for both parties. Inklings and Octolings can get hurt, we lose Golden Eggs. Can even lose lives if not careful... Bear will leave you behind if he thinks you a lost cause. We seen it."

"Really? Well, I mean... after hearing what he's done yeah but... He's seriously left behind someone??"

"Mhm. Multiple. Not everyone makes it... We try to save them if possible. An Inkling once left behind, didn't get splatted by Maws, just bit. Had to swim on back of King Salmonid to bring to safety.

Arius winces, that does not sound pleasant...

"Another one got knocked out, and was surrounded, Bear said to return to helicopter and left. We just dropped off back near Splatsville... We not monsters, we just defend what is ours..."

Lil Buddy moves to sit on his shoulder, gently rubbing his head against Julian's cheek.

"Of course not... And Grizzco is still up and running, even without Mr. Grizz... I wonder who's running it..."

"We neva even saw Mr. Grizz, don't know if we'll even see who's runnin' the place. Though no one really knows what happened here in Alterna..."

Julian shakes his head.

"Probably not. It will stay open, just part of Inkling and Octoling life now. But without Bear, maybe no one get left behind anymore..."

The three of them are quiet, instead of continuing to talk, they just sit in silence and enjoy the company of each other.

...And Julian finishes the rest of the desserts with Lil Buddy, of course.

[fawnsflowerbed]

may i request a jealous Leon who gets all possessive with reader, using pet names like "pup" ? and just smut without plot

thx i rlly enjoy ur blog..♡

HHHGJGHGHDH YESSIR

I SAW PUP AND I WALKED A THOUSAND MILES WITH IT AND IF IN THE FUTURE I GET REQUESTS WITH THESE TYPE OF PETNAMES I WILL WALK A THOUSAND MORE.

This is pure smut, there’s like 0 plot except some dumbass tried to flirt with you and let’s just say that didn’t end well. Half the office probably knows who you belong to now.

Warnings/content: fem reader, 2nd person (your/yours), this is just pure filth with a silly lil ending. Use of ‘good girl’ ‘pup’ and ‘puppy’, semi in public fucking?? It’s in another room, up against wall, fingers in mouth, breeding/creampie, full on possession bro idk what I was on when I wrote this but I need another HIT.

Word count: 2,506

!! MINORS DNI OR I’M TELLING THE BOARD OF DIRECTORS AT THE DSO !!

┌─────── ∘°∘♡∘°∘ ───────┐

└─────── °∘∘♡∘∘° ───────┘

You didn’t think Leon had a jealous bone in his body, honest to god. Maybe it was because of how much he trusted you, how he knew you were loyal.

What he didn’t trust was other people, like the dumb as fuck rookie who made the mistake of flirting with you. Or rather at you. Sure you were trying your best to be civilised, the way you made an attempt to keep eye contact and laugh at his poorly worded jokes.

What made his blood boil wasn’t the way that new recruit tried to hold your hand or sway and saunter you - although that did piss him off - , it was that after you said you were uninterested and had a partner he’d kept going. He’d ignored your word.

“I said no, I’m not interested. I have a boyfriend.”

“C’mon, you don’t have to be his little lapdog. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

That was the last fucking straw. Within an instant he was walking in your direction, watching as that asshole shrunk in on himself slightly.

Which had led to Leon taking you by the hand sweetly - while shooting an absolute death glare at the stupid fuck - to tug you into the room next door to check in with you, make sure you felt safe. Then one kiss turned into another, and another. And then you were fumbling with his belt buckle while he hiked your skirt up.

If that fucker wasn’t going to hear your no, he was sure as hell going to hear you screaming yes.

Now Leon had you pressed up against the wall of an empty conference room that was now instead used for storage. Plenty of space, somewhat of an echo. And it all came into play as he kept your chin tilted up to look at him between your pathetic whines and choked moans. Skin littered from neck to chest in deep purpled hickies, his marking of you. You were his.

Your back was arched up against the span of his chest, hoping and praying that no one could hear the muffled clap of Leon’s hips against your ass - but you were sure he felt the opposite. You were almost thankful to still have the skirt on, providing some sort of padding between every lewd noise filling the room. Every mewl, every sound of skin on skin, every pound of him into the slick heat between your legs.

Leon was in his own blur of possessiveness, two fingers in your mouth that were half hitting the cold air thanks to your lips hanging agape. He was knocking the wind out of you with long strokes that hit that sweet spot inside you almost every time, panting from above you through sweat-stuck hair. There was something new he’d tapped into, a dangerous glint in his eye that had you a mess beneath him.

“Aw, look at that.” He chuckled between gruff pants, cooing down at you. “Someone’s going cross eyed. My cock feel that good, pup?” His words had a deadly husk hanging beneath every syllable. He was enjoying this far too much, but fuck if he couldn’t help it.

He got another whiney, slurred ‘yes’ and ‘feels so good’ against his hand, fingers coated in your built up drool from thrust after thrust into your weeping hole.

This was most definitely violating every guideline in the DSO’s handbook and there was a high chance he’d be put on probation, but frankly Leon couldn’t give a flying fuck. If anything he was glad this had happened late into the night when hardly anyone was in.

That was okay, he was only focused on one person hearing you.

Even if he got punished, it’d be worth it to see the look on that asshole’s face knowing he was the one who’d gotten in trouble because you were screaming his name a little too loud. Him, not that amateur. Try flirting with her now, punk. He dares you.

“All mine, right princess? All of this for me?” Your legs were starting to give out on you now from the intense amount of pleasure, hands pressed against the wall helplessly. Leon kept a firm hold on your hip through every buck into your soaked heat, beginning to pick up the pace just to see the way your mouth opened for him even more than before.

“All you, f-fuck.” You whimpered out into the hot air. Despite the large amount of space, you felt oh so cramped. Warm, sweat covered and so close to full.

Knowing whatever-the-fuck-his-name-was could’ve been standing right outside unlocked something in Leon that you hadn’t seen yet, and it only turned you on even more. You were so incredibly needy to the point where you sucked on his fingers for some type of leverage to the overwhelming pleasure hitting you over and over.

“I know baby, I know. I’ve gotcha.” That gentle hand on your chin tilted your head up just an inch further to stare him right in the eyes. The searing eye contact was bordering on torturous for both of you. The way you were trying so hard to focus on him to the point where you unknowingly clenched around his shaft, overcome with submission and foggy with love and lust. Leon’s darkened gaze was switching between your teary eyes and your once again parted mouth, panting like an animal uncaged as if his only purpose was to claim you. It made you a puddle in his hands, his voice laced with a sweet patronising curve, steely blue eyes still piercing right into your soul. “Who's making you feel so good, puppy? Hm?”

Your eyes were almost rolling back at this point, all of your senses on fire in the best way possible.

“You are.” Bruised over fingers ran over your teeth, your body moving with every snap of his hips against your ass. The sound of his skin against yours was driving both of you insane.

As soon as the pad of his thumb rolled over your puffy clit you were gasping out, back arching further with an open mouthed moan against slick fingers. All rational thought had been thrown out the window now, all you could focus on was his cock filling you to the hilt with every rock of his hips. It was true, you were just about going cross eyed.

Gruff panting lips lowered down next to your ear, just close enough to blow the hot air of his breath against you. “Say it, sweetheart. Go on. Scream my name.”

His other arm moved to wrap around your waist, pressing you snug against him during his assault on your bud and aching cunt. Losing all self control, he was solely focused on getting you to soak him in your arousal. This change of stance gave him the freedom he needed to go a little faster, a little deeper, a little closer.

Close enough that the tip of his cock was brushing right up against your cervix, and that was your breaking point. Your head hung back into his shoulder as you cried his name out in a desperate sob, a sound he could definitely get used to. Your orgasm hit you in a wave that almost had your knees buckling, whining and gasping out while Leon fucked you through your high. He kept his finger circling your bud until you were almost crying with overstimulation, finally retracting to crawl up your stomach. To feel the bulge of his cock inside of you.

“That’s a good girl.” He groaned out against you, the sound vibrating through his body into yours. He was moving to rest his palm around the span of your throat. Not choking or squeezing, just sitting to wrap around your neck as if leashing you to him. “Might have to get you a cute little necklace with my initials on it too. Like a casual collar. How about that, princess?” He mused.

“Uh-huh.” Your automatic hum of agreement was slurred against his hand, absolutely fucked out of your mind while he kept you up against the wall.

He laughed gently, his own head tipping back ever so slightly. He wished he could keep you like this forever, his cock sunk deep into you, your walls hugging every vein as you panted and mewled from your previous orgasm. If it were possible, Leon would’ve gotten even harder. “Thought you’d- thought you’d like that.”

He knew he wasn’t going to last much longer, and looking down at you wasn’t helping at all. The way your figure curled into him instantly, how you seemed to be staring out into space after being completely mindfucked, your hair frizzed up and eyes blown wide as if you were high on your own personal drug - him.

He was getting himself too into this and he could tell, but nothing held him back anymore. He was too focused on how your walls were snug around his dick so perfectly, how you pulsed around him. How only he got to feel this. The sound he let out was something close to a growl. “Gonna fill you up, okay pup? Gonna- fuck- gonna mark you inside and out, yeah?”

“Ple-please.” It was a needy whine from swollen lips and a hoarse throat, one that had him tipping over that edge.

Instinct took over, both arms wrapping around your waist and pushing you further against the wall so your ass was fully pushed up against him. He wasn’t thinking, acting purely by desire and speaking the same as well. “My good fuckin’ girl, that’s right.”

With a few quicker, harder thrusts and a gravelly moan right up against your ear, Leon kept true to his word. Even after being fucked out you still managed to milk his cock of everything he had, almost in a vice grip that had him hissing out as he filled you with every slowed grind into your cunt. “Son of a bitch. Christ.”

His body had completely stalled up against yours, the hold on your waist enough to knock the wind from your lungs in small pants. You felt every spasm and twitch, every jerk of him inside of you. He just held you like that for a moment, his breaths rolling out ragged as he recovered from his high.

His hands massaged your hips in soothing rolls to your skin once he’d come back down from cloud nine, one moving up to tilt your chin back once more. He was checking in on you.

Your eyes were spaced out as you stared through hooded lids, speaking nothing more than muttering whimpers and whines. For a second he was sure he’d broken you. And he had good reason to suspect it, after all he had you standing on those poor shaky legs while filled to the brim and fucked senseless. Hesitantly, he ran his thumb over your cheek in small, soft strokes to bring you back.

He leaned down to press a warm kiss to your temple, his words mumbled lovingly into your hair. “Come back to me, honey. I’ve gotcha, pup. I’ve gotcha.”

All of those worries vanished as you blinked back into reality, staring up at him through tear-fogged eyes with a look of nothing short of love. You welcomed him with a tired smile yet satisfied smile. A little lopsided, just the way he liked it.

”Hey.” That worn out voice of yours brought the warmth back to his body. Just the sound of you back on the ground had him sighing out with relief. Soft hands brushed the messy hair away from your face.

“There you are, sweet girl. You doing okay?”

Guttural words of possession were now replaced with nothing but sweetness as Leon pressed another kiss to your forehead. There was a moment of sensitivity as he pulled out of you, earning him a shaky exhale.

“Yeah. Well- better than okay.” You laughed a little. When he could see you clearly couldn’t stand well, he was sweeping you up to sit on the conference desk.

“That’s good to hear, sweetheart.” He kneeled down to get you cleaned up, but also to get a good look at the job done. Clear as day was his cum leaking out of you, almost reaching down to the fabric of your skirt beneath where you sat. The sight was borderline pornographic, but that was besides the point at this time.

Knowing you’d still be sensitive from being fucked cockdumb, he took his time to collect the running liquid with his thumb. Your hips twitched as he held the pad of his finger against your fucked out cunt to keep it plugged, letting out a soft hum to suppress your moan. Leon just chuckled in amusement, his other hand stroking lovingly over the skin of your still shaking outer thigh. “Didn’t mean to get so rough on you.”

Droopy eyes followed him when he dragged your underwear back up to your waist, your hips lifting for him to fit them back on. You smiled cheekily. “If I knew that’s what I’d be getting, I’d ask guys to hit on me more often.”

“We’ll just see about that, Trouble. Pretty sure half the office knows who you belong to now.” He gave you a lazy grin, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips and offering you a hand off of the table. “How about we get you some water, hm? Cold shower when we get home?”

“Sounds perfect to me.”

▬ ▬ ▬ ▬ ▬ ▬ ▬ ▬ ▬ ▬ ▬ ▬ ▬ ▬ ▬ ▬ ▬ ▬ ▬ ▬ ▬ ▬ ▬ ▬ ▬

The next day when Leon insisted on having you sit right on his lap while he worked you gladly accepted, one of his muscled arms wrapped securely around your waist whilst you tapped your way through mission reports on your phone - or at least that’s what you’d tell anyone who asked. But let’s face it, you were still a little fuzzy around the edges since yesterday’s ‘conference’. Maybe that was the reason Leon wanted you up close and off your feet.

You looked up just in time to see none other than ‘whatever-his-name-was’ walk into the room. Speak of the devil. As soon as he caught a glimpse of you both - your legs crossed casually as Leon looked over your figure with ease to keep working - his face instantly grew bright red. He looked almost mortified. He dropped his papers off quickly, avoiding as much eye contact as possible before ducking out the door. You weren’t gonna lie, you found that pretty damn funny. You’d definitely gotten the message across.

When you heard a poor attempt to stifle a laugh from behind you, you realised Leon had likely watched that just happen too. You both shared a look of understanding, a quick lock of eyes before bursting out laughing. His hand lovingly squeezed your waist while your own covered your mouth in an attempt not to distract the others. But honestly you could hardly care, it felt too damn good.

You didn't mind being his lapdog, not one bit.

[notacoward]

"I'm not sure..." Severus said quietly. He hadn't given it that much thought, purely because he was so busy focusing on other things. "It's probably going to be a very nice distraction. Albus says I'll have my own quarters down in the dungeons. They're bigger than the regular staff quarters to compensate for the fact I'm all by myself. As much as I love being social... I think I'll manage with the peace and quiet."

He missed her sneaky glance at him, but then again, he missed most cues from her or any other bloody woman. They weren't his forte, at all. At least, dating, seducing, wooing. He did what needed to be done for information, but his only sexual experiences had been with concubines the Dark Lord had given him or brothels he sometimes visited with Lucius and the rest of the boys. He hadn't done anything since he'd come to Headquarters, though. He felt like he was betraying Lily, despite them not being anything, and her being engaged to his least favourite person in the world. It was just... not something he had his mind on. There were more important things to worry about, he didn't need his focus to waver.

He had lost track of time until he heard voices nearby undoing the outside wards. He closed up the takeaway box and was trying to swiftly leave the room so they wouldn't be caught... what? Eating? Being in the same room? What did he care?

James and Sirius were the first ones back, and the first ones in the room. Their laughter about some inside joke died down as they happened upon the scene. "Well, well..." James teased, sauntering up to them. "What have we here, Snivvy? A little romantic candlelit dinner with my fianceé? Lils, when were you going to tell everyone the happy news? Should I be worried?" he laughed, causing Sirius to snigger beside him. He peered down into Lily's food box and arched an eyebrow. "You know she hates all this shit, right? Her favourite is shrimp fried rice."

Severus usually resisted. Usually. But Merlin's fucking pants...

"She hates shrimp," he finally said, under his breath.

"What was that, greaseball?" Sirius chimed in.

"I said," he enunciated louder, glaring daggers at the pair of men, "She hates shrimp. She prefers the noodles. And chicken as the protein. Sometimes spicy beef. It depends on her mood. And she likes her cola from a bottle, not a can, but the only canned drink she likes is cherryade," he said. He could go on. He could list every favourite fucking food of hers until the sun came up. He could tell them how she loved fresh fruit in the morning, and she was very particular about her ratios. Three strawberries, half a banana sliced up, half an apple sliced into strips, two grapes, two blueberries, and one orange slice. Just one. The rest she'd give to Severus because he bloody loved oranges. She very well could not like any of that stuff anymore, but he'd never forgotten it. He knew how she liked her tea, how she liked her toast buttered, the ratio of chocolate syrup to milk she preferred, what she would order at any restaurant, right down to ice or no ice in her drink. But he doubted this prick knew her middle fucking name. All he cared about was what was under her clothes and how much he could parade her around like a trophy.

"Did you hear that, Prongs? Looks like ol' Snivellus has the Lily 101 Handbook! Sure it's right in the middle of his shrine next to a few locks of her hair and one of her baby teeth," Sirius jibed.

Severus rolled his eyes and muttered a spell to vanish his takeaway box. He didn't want to be there any longer than he had to, and he certainly had lost his appetite anyway. He walked back up the stairs and left Lily to deal with her two pet apes.

Lily listened along and tucked her feet up under her, not snorting until he got to the part about Dumbledore not telling him anything. Or even as much as they knew. Please. It cast everything he'd said up to that point in a potentially dishonest light, of course, but if he didn't want to be honest with her she couldn't force him to be.

"That's bullshit and we both know it, but I'll let you have it." She stared him down, unsurprised when he didn't quite flinch under her gaze. But there was an uncomfortable shifting that she was going to take as a tell.

Obviously when they were children it was much easier to read Severus, everything was easier back them in fact despite the hardship they'd grown up in. Isolation bound them together, a bunch of misfits that included Tuny even though she tried so hard not to be a part after The Incident.

It had all been an accident, she still wanted to believe that much despite all the evidence to the contrary. Maybe it was just that silly hope that had her seeing the potential in him here as well. "One condition if you don't want to go back to the silent treatment.

You don't have to answer what you can't - or won't - but don't ever lie to me. I get that enough from everybody else." It came in the form of well-meaning excuses most of the time, but being housebound had chipped away at her tolerance for bull.

She blushed when he changed the subject, for obvious reasons. Grasping for any other subject her mind had gone totally blank, not sure how to process the thought of him… listening in. Oh the boys had joked about it often enough, because they were nasty, but… Still.

Looking down at her food as she cleared her throat around a bite she quickly put another one in her mouth. "To set the record straight I do put up silencing charms thank you very much……he just takes them down when I'm not paying attention." The last bit was barely more than a murmur as she felt her cheeks burn.

It wasn't something she liked to think about, jumping to a subject change of her own. "How do you think you're going to like Hogwarts?" She halfway wondered if Dorcas would help her set him up on some sort of date to help with the loneliness. The quickest of glances down let her know the witch wouldn't be disappointed, but she couldn't get past the flare of anger at the thought of him… well.

What had she gotten herself into?

[genericpuff]

Guess it's time for me to give the people what they asked for- (FP spoilers ahead)

Hey y'all, thanks for waiting while I got my ducks in a row to put this lil' essay together. Life's been doing a lot of 180's and I haven't had as many spoons to allocate to LO crit and all that good shit. And honestly, half the struggle of putting these essays together is finding screenshots to back up my claims, the episodes are so cluttered with nonsensically-woven events that it often has me scrolling through multiple episodes wondering if I'm crazy and if the panels I remember even exist.

BUT I just got back from work, Halloween's right around the corner, and I'm feeling like talking about one of the witchiest LO characters of all.

Yep, we're talking Daphne.

(note: there are FastPass spoilers in this essay!)

Now I know - some of y'all in the UnpopularLO and LO crit communities really like Daphne because of her willingness to hold Thanatos accountable. But if you'll give me a few paragraphs, ima tell you why she's just as if not more problematic than some of the go-to problematic characters in LO (AND ima blow your mind with something I don't think y'all have even realized but once you see it, you can't unsee it).

Daphne, like many characters in LO, started off relatively strong. Though her inclusion was a little random, I liked it as a way to show Persephone's past friends from the Mortal Realm (and also it just went to show how obsessed Apollo was with Persephone prior to the whole overthrowing-Zeus retcon).

But that's about where my compliments end because as her inclusion in the plot went on, I came to realize that Daphne is 1.) yet another character in the plot whose only purpose is to be a victim, 2.) unable to practice what she preaches and forces onto other characters, and 3.) yet another character who's used as a Therapy Speak stand-in for Rachel to try and project herself onto.

Let's get the obvious aside - yes, she's basically just another Persephone clone. And by extension that does, in a really messed up way, make her another Rachel clone, but instead of serving the DDLG function of satisfying Rachel's weird but obvious hyperfixation on being a sugar baby (i.e. Persephone) she instead serves the function of being a holier than thou "I'm gonna recite self-help advice that doesn't actually apply to your situation" person, in the same vein as people who use Twitter as their handbook for catch-all moral behavior. Y'know the word... virtue signalling.

I think where Daphne first started to fall apart for me was her first serious interaction with Thanatos, and this is one that gets called out a lot. Daphne is talking about her issues trying to get Apollo's validation, and Thanatos is mentioning how upset he is over Persephone getting special treatment from Hades, when we get THIS little schpeel:

I'm sorry to break it to y'all, but she is NOT being insightful here. She's basically telling Thanatos what Rachel wants to say to her audience - "stop caring so much that Hades is a creepy old man taking advantage of a 19 year old girl in a corporate setting where there's obvious special treatment at play - you're supposed to ship them dammit!"

Neither do we, Thanatos, neither do we.

But think about it. Thanatos is an employee of Hades, one we've found out through both previous and future interactions is often berated and mistreated by Hades (retconned to be Daddy Issues, okay Rachel...) whose job is literally affected by internships, the same way it is in most corporate settings. Internships are incredibly competitive positions, ESPECIALLY in massive mega-corporate settings like the one run by the King of the Dead. There were undoubtedly more people way more qualified for the job. Especially considering little miss Persephone doesn't even know how to operate a computer.

No, you're not required to already 'know' everything during an internship, but there's a reason most internships are only open to students with some kind of transcript showing they're familiar with the work that's being expected of them. Persephone has NONE of that here, AFAIK she's in school for biochem, she has no experience managing shades or even turning on a bloody computer, and here she is, hired to work a job that she has no connection to or interest in besides Hera telling her to (which idk why Hera's even able to do that considering it's not her domain) and the money. Which she shouldn't even be receiving but does because of Hades favoring her for being cute.

I've seen a myriad of Daphne-like defenses of this, stating "well Thanatos is the God of the Dead, his job isn't necessarily affected by Persephone so he shouldn't give a shit."

Except he literally sits next to her.

If you've ever worked in a corporate setting or any kind of industry that utilizes internship programs, you very likely also know what it's like to get an intern who's clearly been hired due to favoritism or nepotism or some other bullshit reason that has nothing to do with the job itself. Intern or not, the skill level of other employees can and will affect your own job. If Persephone fucks up, that could mean problems for Thanatos, Minthe, and other employees under Hades' care. And Thanatos/Minthe/etc. should NOT have to be responsible for carrying her weight or teaching her how to do a job that she should have been qualified for when she got picked.

And, by the way, we can give further credit to Thanatos being bothered by this because we know that Thanatos has been working for Hades for centuries and he's witnesses Hades hire not one, not two, but three employees simply due to being cute or because of some made-up superfluous reason that Hades came up with on the spot. That we know of. Needless to say, HADES HAS A HISTORY OF HIRING PEOPLE ON THE SPOT WITH ZERO REAL QUALIFICATIONS.

(there are some obvious parallels between Persephone and Minthe but we're not gonna get into that in this essay)

Needless to say, if you had a boss who treated you like a doormat despite ABSOLUTELY NEEDING YOU TO MAKE MONEY AT ALL (remember that Thanatos is LITERALLY the god of the dead and Hades is the equivalent of the dead's accountant, Thanatos is not someone who is considered subservient to Hades, if anyone is working for anyone, it's the other way around) and had a history of hiring and firing women for no reason other than wanting to bone them? You'd be pretty pissed too.

And yet here comes Daphne with the oh-so-insightful "wHy dO yOu cArE" schpeel straight from the Twitter Handbook of Life Advice as if Thanatos doesn't stand to have his own job or life compromised by Hades' shitty behavior. Thanatos is fully in the right for raising an eyebrow at his boss - and later established, his father figure - constantly hiring unqualified hot young women to help manage the Underworld.

So that alone had me kind of rolling my eyes at Daphne. She's trying to take some kind of moral high ground without taking a moment in the SLIGHTEST to understand where he's coming from or the context of his situation, even though it's literally what he does for her.

But that's just the tip of the iceberg. We ain't done, folks.

Shortly after this, Daphne shows a clear interest in Thanatos but makes it clear she doesn't wanna date him to "fix" him, she wants him to "get his shit together."

This on its own was fine, I'm all for having more female characters who don't date the first guy who gives them empathy.

But then almost IMMEDIATELY afterwards, basically by the time we see her next, she's dating him anyways and goes ahead and says this shit:

Daphne, which is it exactly? Do you have self-respect, or are you seriously gonna try and 'fix' him when you literally just said to him that you weren't gonna be responsible for that? Pick a lane, for the love of god.

Now, once was bad enough, but she literally does it again in Episode 217. When Hades shows up to speak to Thanatos (in an attempt to find Hypnos) and Thanatos obviously IMMEDIATELY writes him off (as he should!) and Daphne just ?? stomps on Thanatos' boundaries entirely? ??

AND THEN SHE HAS THE NERVE

TO TWITTER SPEAK AT HADES

TELLING HIM TO LISTEN AND VALUE THANATOS' FEELINGS

AS IF SHE'S NOT COMPLETELY DISMISSING THANATOS' FEELINGS JUST TO TAKE SOME SUPERFLUOUS MORAL HIGHGROUND-

Man, seriously, fuck Daphne. If Persephone is Rachel's messed up way of having some kink fantasy self-insert, then Daphne is Rachel's equally messed up way of having her moral high ground talk-at-the-audience self-insert.

But hoo boy, that brings us to Persephone, Hades, and the inversion of their relationship juxtaposed against Daphne and Thanatos. This is that "once you see it" thing y'all have been waiting for.

And that begins once you ask yourself, who do Daphne and Thanatos remind you of?

Oh. Right.

Pink nymph-like character from the Mortal Realm with flowing hair who acts like they're better than everyone else and constantly gets away with shitty behavior? Check.

Blue/grey cthonic god with dominion over the dead, mommy/daddy issues, and banging Minthe? Check.

Obvious gap in how the two people in the relationship are presented, treated, and behave in LO's class system compared to everyone around them? Check.

Borderline toxic relationship dynamic in which one plays the Daddy Dom role and another plays the Little Girl role? Oh yeah, check.

But in Daphne and Thanatos' case, it's inverted.

Persephone is presented as a naive, in-over-her-head character who gets into a relationship with someone who speaks on her behalf and makes a lot of decisions for her.

And here we have Thanatos, a naive, in-over-his-head character who gets into a relationship with someone who speaks on his behalf and makes decisions for him- oop.

Daphne and Thanatos may as well just be Rachel's excuse to keep drawing Persephone x Hades fluff without it being Persephone x Hades fluff.

Same petty, tone deaf virtue-signaling dialogue. Same pink x blue aesthetic. Same roles in the comic's established class system. Same character arc that's reduced to being nothing more than a #metoo victim of assault from a man (the same man no less) all just to push their love interests' character arc and make them look better by comparison. Same creepy, toxic DDLG undertones projected from a creator who's proven to be into these power-imbalanced controlling relationship dynamics.

Daphne isn't 'empowering'. She's not 'mature.' She's yet another Rachel projection - Persephone but not Persephone - to talk at the audience with generic Therapy Speak while refusing to uphold the very virtues she's signaling. It's not a good thing that her greatest contribution to the plot was being another victim of Apollo.

The proof is all there. If you've still got a hint of doubt, look no further than the newest FastPass preview for Episode 219.

That's all I'm gonna say on that.