#thousand trails review

[usedpidemo]

Getting closer (Kang Hyewon)

��All I’m saying is—” Hyewon looks away, drink in hand, taking a little sip, calm and alluring as ever, “if you only want to see me naked, then you could have just said so.”

You widely stare back, silent, indifferent—or at least pretend to be. It’s gotten you a fair amount of awards, after all. It’s not the slightest bit of convincing whatsoever.  

She laughs, softly, as if this was the expected outcome. “So I’m taking that as an admission.” 

Setting down the near-empty wine glass on the bathroom sink, Hyewon attempts to walk away, only to be stopped by a sudden pull. Your hand appears tightly wrapped around her dainty wrist, unwilling to let go. Your eyes aimlessly wander up and down the empty void that is her black dress. There are hardly any thoughts behind that predictably empty head of yours, only the simplest of desires.

You catch the subtlest grin forming on her saccharine lips. You fucking hate how she makes you feel. How she makes your heart race with every exchange.

Despite all the time you’ve spent together, you wish you got to know her better.

—————

The last year and a half of your career has mostly centered around one thing, or in this case, one person: Kang Hyewon. There’s also this drama starring your pairing as co-leads, and you’ve been promoting together, but your names make up more of the headlines than the very show. Your names are synonymously tied together akin to an actual couple.

Unsurprisingly, Hyewon is damn gorgeous. It’s how she’s getting the calls to begin with. Another one of those former singers turned actors looking to be taken seriously within the larger entertainment industry. Most never make it past their first project and fall back on their old careers, with some completely flaming out of the spotlight altogether. She’s an exception. A minor part here, a supporting cameo there—until she’s more than pleasant eye candy. A starlet who knows how to pick what roles would showcase her talents the most. 

She’s the perfect blend of beauty goddess and hotshot young star that the internet can get behind.

So it comes as a surprise when she’s casted as second fiddle to you, the first billing—and everyone comes away talking about her more. The scene stealer. 

(This plucky rival agent, investigating a case your character has been trailing for years, barely scraping by with the thinnest of clues, only for her to uncover the mystery only days after starting the investigation. The writing screams Mary Sue, but she acts convincing and vulnerable enough to escape the scathing think pieces that’s commonly associated with such characters. Not to mention: you both look damn good together on screen and during your public appearances.

It’s a team that sailed a thousand ships—both for your characters and in the real world.)

The consummate professional you are, you don’t think much of it. Your filming experience can only be described as businesslike. Except for the scenes where you’re together on screen, you’ve been separated at arms’ length, only exchanging words between takes to keep any further relationship from developing. It’s only during the press tour where you’ve finally gotten somewhat close.

Perhaps a little too close for comfort. Enough to make video compilations by overzealous fans who think you and Hyewon are really an item. The evidence is everywhere—in interviews, behind the scenes content, and on both your Instagram pages. At least, that’s what they want to believe. Everyone else brushes it off as two hot people being hot together, and not much else.

Here’s the thing: you love Hyewon—that much is true. The question now is: does she love you back?

Thankfully, your duo doesn’t get in the way of the show being lauded, despite making up a majority of its fandom. Positive reviews from both critics and viewers, especially in regards to your chemistry. The connection between you two is one in a million, something that can’t be built over years and years of working together. It also helps your performances sell the dynamic incredibly well—well enough to create those delusional shippers that form the bedrock of your partnership. 

Your names were positioned to go far during awards season. Not the consensus top pick, but as dark horse contenders to steal one every now and then. And while you both won your fair share of accolades, neither of you ended up walking away with the top prize. The conversation during the final ceremony of the year consisted primarily of the media and viewers talking about how your appearances together these last few months—and how you’re a match made in heaven. 

Everyone’s gonna miss this pairing—and so will you.

Now you’re back at square one. Having snuck away from the afterparty currently celebrating the dozen or so awards your show won earlier tonight, you’ve brought Hyewon back to your hotel room. Neither of you cared once you both lost your respective categories. The pundits thought you each only had the slimmest of odds to win, so why bother. Hell, you were both itching to leave as soon as the red carpet concluded. 

It’s all behind you now. You’re finally free from the glitz, glamor, and chaos of these vanity ceremonies and can really focus on what really matters—the pretty girl that you most likely won’t be seeing starring tomorrow. Your careers and interests couldn’t be any further apart: your main focus is movies, while hers are dramas. Both of you remain booked and busy for the next few years with different projects, with not a single one reuniting you two for the foreseeable future.

Back to Hyewon. She’s looking down at her wrist, tightly held by your hand. She allows it. You can feel her pulse. You sense that your hearts are racing in unison, tense and anxious.

“Are you gonna do something?” she questions, daring you to pull the trigger. She knows something you don’t—or maybe you do. You’re blinded by fear to realize it. “The night is fleeting. If not now, then when?”

Her words ring through your head. 

If not now, then when?

The same five words, ordered in the exact same way—etched in tiny letters on her skin.

You still remember everything—frame by frame, down to the last details. On screen, it’s implied. In your mind, it canonically happened. She took her shirt off, exposing herself and the scars of battle, and you were gonna go there. In your characters’ supposed words, ‘Clean’’ in your own unique way.

It was ultimately never shot. Bare minimum of fanservice and completely unnecessary, the director said. 

The tattoo sticks out, not only because of how it's deeply embedded on her otherwise pristine, lithe figure, but also because it represents the last 18 months of your career.

During this period, there are a lot of things that you’ve regret—and will regret. The fact you’ve kept contact with her during filming at a minimum, keeping your interactions strictly between takes and creating a negative air around you in her eyes. The fact it took you so long to exchange numbers, only getting it done during the press tour. The fact that you never return her messages when she constantly reaches out to you, whether through text or on your Instagram. The fact you haven’t thanked her enough times during your acceptance speeches, even when you mention her name in almost every other sentence. If there’s anything you want to admit, it’s that Hyewon is everything.

Most importantly, the fact that you fucking love her, to the point where you’d yearn moments when you’re not beside her—and you still lack the will to confess to her. Even right now. When she’s right at your fingertips.

Perhaps she knows this. The signs were there all along. How she often posts your red carpet photos together and tags you in them. How she also mentions you as much during her acceptance speeches and credits you as a reason for her improvements in acting, even referencing specific advice you’ve given her. The biggest hint, however, are the dresses she’s been wearing to these galas, most evident being tonight. Simple all black, tailor made for her frame, showing off her assets for flaunting to the cameras. 

Earlier, she led you to an empty part of the theater to say something in private. “I wore this just for you,” she said—and from that point, you had to get her alone, whatever it takes.

Really, Hyewon has no intention to leave tonight. She’s just waiting for those magic words. There’s no other logical reason for her to be here, other than for you.

She might as well be holding up a huge signpost with all her requests written in capital letters. 

“If you’re not gonna do anything,” she says, tone casual, slipping one strap of her dress down her shoulder, the one half of the fabric dropping a fair amount. “Then I might as well do it myself. I was hoping you’d take this off me—”

“Stop.” 

You grab her other hand, close to touching the other strap, the dress more than ready to fall down. She raises her eyebrows in amusement. Afterward, she puts the seized hand down, convincing you to release the grip. 

Another win for Hyewon. You’ve lost count as to how many times she’s been messing with you throughout awards season. Probably in the hundreds. Thousands if you count the interviews and little jabs during her speeches. Every mention of your name is an immediate sign of trouble. You can sense she’s enjoying every single moment, relishing the remaining time you have left. Meanwhile, it’s clear on your face that you’re stressed. 

But for what?

“If it hasn’t gotten through your thick skull, then I have no choice but to explain it.” Hyewon climbs atop the bathroom sink, strong enough to lift herself off the ground. She pours the glass with new wine; it’s not meant for you. Her attitude flips instantaneously like a switch, composed and readying herself as if it were another photoshoot. 

Taking a sip of the drink, she pours the rest all over her dress. It serves no purpose anymore. it’s undeniable that she knows what she’s doing. That elegant yet cocky smile is permanently seared into your brain. Someone this haughty shouldn’t be this beautiful and seductive. “You can stand there and waste the night away, or you can do something about it. All up to you.”

You can only sigh. Whether out of wistfulness or annoyance is up for interpretation. You can add taking her back to your hotel room and taking this role in your ever growing list of regrets. When it’s all said and done, it’ll definitely be as long as the career documentary they’ll make about you in 50 years.

What more do you have to lose? 

This will all be behind you soon enough.

You finally stop giving her the cold shoulder. “God, I really wish you weren’t such a tease,” you remark, pulling on the dress strap she previously slid down. “Because otherwise, it would have been so much easier.”

Hyewon seems to have taken your words seriously, because she suddenly kisses you—as in, relentlessly smothers you. Her arms wrap around your neck, slowly pulling you close into an embrace. She smells of alcohol and perfume. An unusual concoction that you can drown yourself in.

“Only if you say the magic word,” she says, gently laughing between kisses. The lower half of your face is full of pale lipstick marks. It was foolish to think she had turned a new leaf, knowing how intentional Hyewon can be with everything.

You’ve really got no other choice.

“I love you,” you confess, but in the smallest audible voice imaginable—hiding that reluctance behind your tone. 

Hyewon pulls herself back, smiling toothily at you, borderline snorting. Her expressions convey the idea that you told her a joke, which it may as well be. 

“That’s it? Doesn’t sound like someone who loves me,” she remarks, tone evidently disparaging.

“Fuck me.” The groan comes out instinctively, as if this wasn’t your first time getting burned like this. Your head is raised to the ceiling, asking the gods for an out.

“That’s my line,” she spouts, her response almost as instantaneous. Wit comes naturally to Hyewon. The countless viewers and interviewers who’ve laughed can speak on her behalf.

“You’re gonna turn everything I say into a joke, are you?” you ask, knowing you’ve willingly fallen for the easiest bait in the entire world.

“You’re gonna turn everything I say into a joke, are you?” she repeats, mockingly imitating your voice, much to your utter chagrin. This isn’t part of some romcom or a sketch. This is real. Everything comes back around to Hyewon. She laughs—basks in your suffering.

It’s the kind of trait that would leave you second guessing whether you really love her or not. As it turns out, the public loves celebrities with a playful sense of humor. Not even you are innocent—you’ve been caught red-handed on camera a few times. Hyewon doesn’t need to reaffirm herself.

But she would love to hear it straight from the source.

“Say it. Say it.” Hyewon is urging you—demanding you—as if it were a matter of life or death. Her hands are everywhere, gripping you by the cheek and the throat like her prized possessions, threatening to choke the life out of you. 

Truthfully, this was coming the moment she stepped through those doors for the first table read. Hyewon’s gravity is inescapable.

“Love you—Hyem, please—” 

Struggling to push back against her hold, you can tell that she’s taking pleasure in every moment she has you like this: wrapped around her finger, so whipped over her that it’s alarming. There’s little use in trying to be coy or subtle. If she wanted you to go down to the afterparty in nothing but your boxers, you’d fold in a heartbeat. She’s the kind of girl you’d happily end up in a scandal with, someone you’d throw your career away in exchange for one timeless night, against the advice of everyone who knows better.

She knows this too. Look at the coy grin spreading on her face. A smile perfect for the front cover of any magazine or commercial. It’s the perfect facade for the attitude hiding beneath.

“I love you Hyem,” you repeat, showing a bit more desperation and sincerity this time. You’re breathing against her neck, the idea of pressing your lips against her skin a dire need. It’s unfortunate you can’t make it look like an accident—as is the idea of your bodies sinking down on the bathroom countertop. “For the longest time, I wanted you, but—”

Only now do you come to the simplest realization: there are no accidents.

Normally, you should feel some shame for being this oblivious. How a girl like Hyewon is giving out all these hints, to the point where she might as well be spreading her legs wide and pointing down at her cunt with a colorful sign. Hell, a thigh is peeking through her dress, pressing on your leg right now. If there’s one thing you’ve learned about working with other actors, it’s that chemistry comes naturally—it can’t be taught.

And your bodies are doing exactly that. The friction between you can’t be any more tense.

“Then show me.” She sighs against your ear, pulling on the topmost button of your suit, pushing down the matching coat. Her leg extends around your limb, goading you to pull away, even though leaving the pretty sight right in front of you is the last thing on your mind. 

You can only breathe. Slow. Hesitant. There's not a lot of hours left, and you’re wasting more by taking your sweet time—resting your gaze on her pale shoulder, admiring all the little details. In essence, you’re doing the complete opposite of what Hyewon wants. She’s showing a little frustration, proving how much better of an actress she is than you. Imagine being in her shoes, beckoning to someone astronomically unaware for months. So much energy and effort could have been saved if she chose to leave you out to dry. If you weren’t so preoccupied with thoughts of her, the many ways this little scene can go, you’d be wondering why she’s this persistent. 

Maybe you’re just as important of a character in her story too, or you’re both stubborn in your own ways. Perhaps both.

None of that is your concern right now. You’re cupping Hyewon’s face, kissing her, nibbling down on her creamy skin, reaching up to her lips by the way of her neck, pulling on the strap of her dress little by little. In response, she’s whispering sweet nothings into your ear, removing your dress shirt one button at a time. It feels like you’re going through the motions, acting under the words of an intimacy coordinator and a director. Slowly but surely, it’s all coming together, until—

“Stop.” 

You pull back, noticing your shirt is nearly undone as you look past her and at the mirror. Both dress straps are halfway down her arms, the fabric a mess, waiting to be swept away. 

You raise an eyebrow, puzzled. “What’s up?” 

Hyewon tilts her head at an angle, unsatisfied. She’s staring at you intently, taking a moment to analyze you like you’re a problem to solve—which you are—before coming to a rather alarming conclusion. “You don’t seem like you want me that bad.”

The remark doesn’t register in your brain. “What do you mean—”

She yanks you forward for a deep kiss, cutting you off. Reciprocating her passion comes naturally—and so does everything else. The movement of your hands, taking lease of her back, tearing through the fabric of her dress, coming back to her cheeks, until you stop feeling cloth and register more flesh. Feeling her skin becomes your new addiction, something you can’t get enough of. 

Watching her other movies—for research purposes—you knew she was well endowed, even when they were not on full display.  Some of her previous gala dresses truly put a spotlight on her cleavage. Part of you thought it was editing trickery, a perfectly taken photo at the right time, or a bra doing the heavy lifting. All three even. But holding them now, with nothing in between, you simply couldn’t believe how well they’ve been hidden from you. 

Her tits fold, go flush, and her nipples stiffen at your touch. They feel so right—as if they were handmade for you.

“God, Hyem—” you breathe out, savoring the sensation of her mounds in your clasp, unwilling to let go. Her taut nipples jerk with every run of your palms. If only you could rest your head between them, but your current position won’t allow you. 

“They feel so good right?” Hyewon moans in response, shedding your unbuttoned shirt off your body and tossing it to the floor, taking lease of your muscles and back. Her dress bunches up around her waist, practically collapsing when she decides to get up from the sink. Although an expected outcome, you’re both surprised that you’ve managed to get each other’s clothes off.

And you’re only getting started.

Pushing you away, Hyewon meets you at your level. Gravity does the rest. She stands before you in nothing but heels. What a mental image to remember her after tonight. She leaves you frozen and trembling, jaw agape, your eyes in a daze, unable to find a place to settle your fleeting gaze on—until she rests her hands around your shoulders. You’re caught up in your own disbelief to meet her lovely gaze and that rather sweet smile, quite the difference from her bare state.

She lifts up a leg, pushing herself onto you for another passionate kiss. Taking advantage, her legs eventually wrap around your waist, bearing all her weight on your grasp. Despite her surprise attack, she’s feathery enough to carry around. It certainly helps that she’s not the heaviest girl you’ve lifted before; you have some experience—mostly unpleasant and usually backbreaking. Still, you’ll treat her like some delicate object that crumbles at the slightest touch. Something—or someone—you can’t ruin, or else you’d be ruined too.

You both end up in the living room, deeply engrossed in a fiery passion that’s too hot for cameras. Lifting her high, your lips find their way to her chest, pressing them in the place where they rightfully belong. Hyewon is stubborn, pushing your head further up to meet your lips in a direct, frantic kiss. Back and forth, you take turns between her tits and her lips, unintentionally slamming her against a wall, eliciting a few yelps out of her. 

It doesn’t bother you both in the slightest. You hold her there, kissing down her abdomen and ribs, coming to the tiny inked part of her figure. The same tattoo that’s been ingrained in your head since you first saw them.

You mutter the very words against her skin. 

“If not now, then when.”

They’ve never been so relevant till right now. You softly kiss the ink, silently thanking her for saving you from a lifetime’s worth of regret.

Hyewon winces, throws her head back, moans up to the ceiling. Her nails brush through your hair, then claw at your nape as you remain fixated on her tattooed rib. She deserves to be adored and worshiped.

“Look at me babe,” she murmurs, gently tilting you up, faint at your touch. Against your desires, you follow. “Put me down. You know why I’m here.”

You oblige without a second thought—and you’re both on a level playing field again.

Still, you can’t help but kiss her right after. She reciprocates the favor. You’re a perfect match. Even as you’re making out, you’re thinking of ways to get messy and get the jump on her while she’s preoccupied. 

It ends up being your biggest mistake.

Both of you wrestle for control over the other, a scuffle that ends up knocking down a few appliances and tableware. The sound of glass shattering rips through the hotel room floor louder than your collective moans ever will. For someone with a lithe figure, Hyewon proves to be much stronger than you were led to believe. It shows when you try to push her onto another table; you both end up crashing to the floor seconds later. 

From there, it’s whoever is the first to get up, and you knew it was all over from there.

Hyewon leads you into the sole bedroom, shoving you onto the mattress. Unrelenting, she slams onto you right after, pinning you down with her bare hands. Surprising her with your own strength, you reach for her raven locks through her ironclad grip of your wrists. Your lips continue to crash like waves against rocks, neither of you willing to back down. There’s a clear disparity between you: she wants you more.

To further prove her point, she presses her palms down on your chest, sitting over you upright, straddled on your lap. She’s never looked better.

Making quick work of your trousers, your cock is freed from its confines, only to be immediately caught up in Hyewon’s hand. Her grip spreads through your groin, turning breathing into an absolute nightmare. The one fear that’s been haunting your mind these last few months, finally realized. 

And it’s staring you down with an innocent yet wicked smile.

“You have no idea how long I wanted this,” she remarks, her sultry voice sending shivers down your spine. Arching down, she presses her tongue forward on your throbbing tip. Combined with the pressure she’s building with her hand, holes puncture through your lungs. And right on command, you’re leaking. She’s lapping your cock in circles, slow and agonizing, taking every little drop of precum seeping. You can only tremble beneath her, utterly defenseless. “Remembering when I was tapping your foot with my heel earlier tonight?”

She leaves you in such a dizzying spiral that you can’t even look directly at her, let alone formulate a reply. Meanwhile, her eyes remain fixed on you, doe-eyed with innocence, yet her actions are cruel. Breathing proves to be a struggle, let alone returning with a response. “What about it?”

“I wanted you to follow me to the bathroom. And I wanted you to fuck me in there.”

Honest to God, that was not the first thought on your mind. If anything, the presence of many proved to be the ideal shield in keeping yourself away from Hyewon. Losing best actor was the greatest blessing in disguise, as it meant you didn’t have to look straight into her magnetic eyes during your theoretical speech and make an embarrassment of yourself in front of hundreds in attendance, and millions watching on television. 

Now that you’re in bed with no way to escape, you can only accept your fate.

“I’m not the best at reading the room,” you comment, sheepishly shaking your head.

“Not surprising, honestly,” she says, rewarding your candor with a kiss—on your tip. Then another. More heartwarming than arousing, if anything. “Anyone ever told you that you’re kind of a dork?”

“Not the first time I’ve heard it from a girl,” you say, in an attempt to show some wit, only to be met with a stiff grip on your cock. “Ah—fuck—”

A bit more force and Hyewon could break you in half with her mere hand alone. She’s cold, calculating, and cruel. Her expression seems apathetic, yet deep down, you can tell she’s having so much fun toying and teasing you, stealing what little semblance of willpower you have. And to think she’s this demure, sometimes funny celebrity with a certain image that’s universally admired by many. 

Behind that gaze, she’s thinking of more ways to further ruin you.

“I don’t think a dork like you has been with other girls,” she remarks, leaning forward to tease a kiss, only to leave you dry. “But looking at this cock—”

She stops to admire your shaft once more. Ultimately, she can’t help herself. She has to give your tip another ceremonious flick with her parched tongue in appreciation. Two, actually. If she doesn’t stop, you’ll soon be deep in her throat, and you know she’s not letting you go. Thankfully, she finally regains sight of what she wants in the first place.

Lifting herself ever so slightly, Hyewon takes a deep breath—then slowly melts into you. 

It’s a car crash you can’t look away from. It’s inevitable, but you’re completely powerless to stop her. You can only groan in agony as your bodies intertwine, creating a union that only she can break. Inch by inch, you helplessly watch as Hyewon slowly takes you into her suffocating heat. The sensation is unlike anything you’ve ever felt before: vicious, intense, and painful. 

It doesn’t help that she’s taking her sweet time, keeping you on edge for what may as well be an eternity, bracing for the certain explosion she’s going to leave in her wake. 

“Oh—fuck—it’s so perfect,” Hyewon throws her head back, her jaw dropping slow, every word delivered in a near-inaudible sigh. Eventually, she buries herself in you deep to the hilt—and she keens. “That—that’s it—that’s the fucking spot—”

Your hands cling to her waist, your maw similarly agape, breathing tensely as the pleasure slowly courses through your muscles. “God—you’re fucking tight—”

She hums in return, satisfied by your response, before losing herself in the sensation of your cock impaling her—and she begins to move.

As you fight the urge to cum right then and there, Hyewon slowly lifts herself off your lap, your cock reappearing with a fresh coat of her drenched pussy, before sinking back down. She rips the breath right from your lungs, while you’re forced to shut your eyes. Anything to keep your brain firing as the pleasure rushing throughout your body sends you into overdrive. 

You’re an outlet of ecstasy, a conduit for her to loosen all her pent-up frustration and lust. Her palms grip to your thighs, keeping you in place—as if you’re in any condition to move anywhere except for her whim. She’s crashing into you at a punishing pace as a result of keeping yourself away for so long. And she’s being open about it too: “Why did it take us so long—ugh—”

You can only moan back. Truthfully, you’re wondering the same thing too. 

As your eyes alternate between wide open and completely shut, you catch glimpses of Hyewon using every inch of you to fill her wanton pussy with cock. When she’s not cursing or screaming your name, her moans fill your ears with sweet, sultry music. It’s a sound not of her high class image. She’s riding you like it’s life or death, like her heart will stop beating if her cunt isn’t being stretched out.

With every bounce, so do her breasts. Up and down, settling into a rhythm, forming a hypnotic motion that your eyes get lost in. Your obsession reaches a point to where the movement of her tits stirs you on, reigniting your tired muscles. You can’t lie there and be a helpless viewer any longer.

And so, you meet Hyewon halfway, matching the grind of her hips with your thrust at the apex, setting her alight. This particular stroke. The hot sensation. It utterly shatters her. Her voice cracks. She trembles violently, giving you breathing room to sit upward and lean close to her chest. 

So while she staggers back, overwhelmed by your cock spearing her cunt, you go down on her succulent breasts, squishing your face between them. Despite having Hyewon’s body all to yourself, the friction between your bodies creates this wracking storm that drives you insane. It isn’t enough that you’re feasting on her tits, that her boobs are bouncing so hard it’s downright pornographic, and that she’s screaming her heart out in response to each stroke. This will be headline news tomorrow. Yet, none of that is your concern. You have to pour everything into her. It’s now or never.

“Fuck yes—oh fuck—fucking take me—fuck—” Hyewon’s riding your cock, forcing all the air out your lungs, rendering you speechless. Doesn’t matter, you’re drowning in her slick and her tits, pounding away with twice the effort. She’s swearing through her tongue like she’s a cop in a crime picture, biting down on her lip in a flimsy attempt to restrain herself, but anyone with a good ear nearby could have easily identified her voice through the four walls of this hotel room. Knowing her, it’s intentional. She’s determined to put you through a world of trouble, leaving you with no other choice but to shut her up.

And you’re going to do just that.

You end up yanking her by the waist as your bodies repeatedly collide with each other. Each impact the equivalent of a cosmic explosion, the aftermath echoing through the room. The sound of skin slapping skin fills your ears louder than what it seems in the movies. Sex with Hyewon is much, much better than in your fantasies. Here’s another thing that can’t be found on camera: her soft pleas begging you to keep going, interlaced between harsh whines and airy moans that can’t be faked.

“God, I’m gonna fucking cum, Hyewon.” There you go, your silly side showing at such a serious moment. Everyone knows you don’t proclaim your impending climax. Rookie mistake. You’re not shooting a porno, but you might as well be with how hard you’re fucking her. She can’t help but cackle even as you relentlessly pound into her cunt. What should be a moment of weakness immediately gets brushed aside as you hold her when she slams down, and you finally fall apart.

Impaling your cock hilt deep inside Hyewon, you’re digging your palms deep into her soft flesh, unwilling to let go. She rests her head beside yours as you blast her with thick, warm cum. Her prolonged, saccharine-sounding moan is nothing compared to the loaded groan that ripples through the room. The supplication she makes, demanding you to fill her with every little drop goes through deaf ears. Your dick seems to have heard it loud and clear, though. The amount you’re filling her is enough to rip through her body violently too. She follows with her own peak afterwards, hitting a previously unheard octave higher, your bodies finally melting into one. 

Just like that, she’s clinging to you like you’re her personal life support, completely drained of all her strength. 

The ecstasy lasts for a brief moment. The fall off happens too soon for your liking. Like her, you’re sapped of energy and you fall down to earth with Hyewon in your arms. The end comes—not with grandiose drama or spectacle, but by a calm, uneventful stir.

You should be done at this point. It’s been a long day. You’ve been up as early as sunrise, spent hours behind makeup and measuring tape for a suit you won’t wear more than once. Smiling comes natural, if not downright fake; in front of the cameras, on the red carpet, on screen, and even during the afterparties. Every time you step out in public, there’s an image, a reputation to uphold. You’ve done this a dozen times in the past few months alone, bearing a lifetime’s worth of and it never gets more comfortable or easier. It’s a miracle you haven’t cracked or had a public breakdown, even though your mind is calling for it.

And yet, all that labor and agony is worth it for what you have now. The awards, the recognition, the adoration—but most especially the girl. What are you now, taken out of a story. One that feels all too familiar and done to death, but it never grows old or tired. 

By all accounts, it should be a happy ending. 

Except you’re not done. You’re not satisfied, and so is Hyewon. Even though she’s settling down in your embrace, resting her head against your heartbeats, mumbling these sweet nothings about how much you’ve ruined her and fucked her to shreds, she’s quietly begging for more. It isn’t about keeping a sanctimonious image anymore; it’s about how far you’ll push her and use her. Your throbbing cock buried inside her cunt says it too.

If there’s anything you’ve learned about acting, it’s that one take isn’t enough.

Like a damsel in distress, you scoop Hyewon into your arms. Through what you might consider a second wind, you carry her into the bathroom again on wobbly legs, stepping into the shower, showing that you’re ready to take your relationship a step further. You’ll hash out the details in the morning—if she hasn’t left by then.

The sound of running water serves as background for the airy, lewd noises that quickly fill the shower. 

Hyewon feels incredibly soft to touch. Pliable in your grasp, like a doll to bend, twist, and use at your whim. You’re squeezing her flesh, fondling her mounds tightly till you’re seeing red everywhere. Her tits, her shapely ass, and everything in between. Kissing down her body, giving every little part its much needed attention. You’ve fucked her to pieces, yes, but she’s still housing a divine figure that deserves the same level of praise. 

With two fingers stroking at her cunt, she’s keening, her head tilted up to meet the relentless downpour rushing down over your bodies. Her voice is in tatters after an hour of tireless screaming, in addition to all the mindless chatter from earlier tonight. Part of you wishes to have taken up her offer. Something this good shouldn’t be kept secret, but you’re more than selfish enough to keep Hyewon all to yourself. 

Your raging impulse gets the better of you, and you slap her tits from behind. She yelps a cry of pain and pleasure. The recoil and sound activates something in your brain like a sleeper agent. You do it a second time, then a third. You stop counting after, indulging yourself in the satisfying noise of her mounds smacked over and over, every squeal, every strike equally as gratifying as your cock slamming into her pussy. She’s clinging to the walls as a respite, her body shuddering vigorously, but you don’t give her a moment to breathe. It’s what she would have wanted: to be used and taken like a ragdoll.

Hyewon screams again when you swing her around, lifting one leg around your waist, and slam your cock inside her. No pleasantries, no talking through the process—only a desire to fuck. Burying your face against her neck, growling into her skin like a ravenous beast, you hammer away without care for neither your comfort nor hers. You’re counting the hours, minutes, seconds before she disappears from your life, and you’re gonna make sure that years from now, she remembers this night in particular.

You’re too engrossed to see her expressions twist in impossible ways that average humans can make. But that’s the point: Hyewon is no ordinary person. She’s one actress, something that can be found in others who are more talented and have more resounding qualities, but more than that, to you, she’s everything. The clench of her cunt on your cock continues to invigorate you and push you further. With every thrust, she jumps and sends aftershocks coursing through your veins. God, you love how incredibly well she fucking takes it, and the slightest tilt of her lips struggling to form a grin reinforce this. You’ve got nothing else to say, really; you easily lose yourself in your own lust, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

It doesn’t take too long before you feel it again. The end. It’s approaching faster than you can react. You knew it wasn’t going to be a drawn out affair, but you’re so desperate to reach that high, no matter how brief it may be. It was too good to pass up, and you’re beyond waiting a second more.

You’d give everything up for even a single minute longer, but the period of bargaining has long passed you by.

“Gonna cum again—fuck—” is all you can muster, your first words after a long while. Her pussy feels so good to form coherent words. Lust has utterly consumed your brain more than anything. The entire time, Hyewon’s mewling, keening in every direction, trying to find purchase on the walls or the shower door, only to fall a few inches short. She ends up coming back to you, hanging on for dear life. You’ve never let up, terrified that she’ll magically disappear into nothing at any second. 

Acting fast, as if you’ve got a ticking bomb in hand, you draw your cock out, coated in a thick sheen of your own cum and hers, pumping yourself with a few strokes of your hand until you finally explode. The shower washes down the milky white blot you’re unloading on her skin, never leaving a permanent mark. It does, however, bring you back to the place that began your undoing.

The tattoo on her rib. 

Water wipes the cum blocking the view. Despite those same five words occupying your mind for the last few hours, it still hits like a fresh revelation. You hear her voice repeating them inside your head as you come to your senses, your lust being satiated—for now. Even when Hyewon is completely broken before you, reduced to a quiet pile of flesh. One hand on the surrounding wall, the other in limbo, her leg still coiled around your waist, forcing oxygen into her tired lungs wherever she can. 

With the ‘quick’ shower done, and after hardly any cleaning was made, you carry her back to the bedroom. 

You don’t even make it past the living room before your legs finally give up. You end up crashing onto the floor together before you both finally call it a night.

—————

“This is your fault you know,” says Hyewon, drawing circles on your chest, over your calm heartbeats. “I’m supposed to be in London tomorrow for my table read. And yet I’m still here. My flight was five hours ago by the way.”

It’s already high noon when you finally regain consciousness, your head still spinning despite not taking more than one alcoholic drink the night before. Hyewon’s doing marginally better, having woken up 30 minutes earlier. No wonder it feels so hot; her body is snuggled up on you, your limbs tangled. Despite the urgency she’s speaking about, she doesn’t seem to be interested in moving any time soon.

At least you’re awake and sensible enough to fire back. “Who’s fault is that? I wasn’t the one inviting you to come over and have you fucked senseless.”

She chuckles into your skin, little ripples forming where her lips are gently pressed. “And I wasn’t the one who spent the last 18 months saying we’re just friends.”

You’re already lying flat on the floor, but the rebuttal only makes you want to get up only to fall back down. So you settle with an expressive sigh. 

Hyewon laughs. It’s what won over millions, including you. You’re taken back to that fateful day you first met. Right then and there, you knew there’d be no one else like her. If given an opportunity to go back and change a few things here and there or, you’d do it over again, mistakes included. Last night was worth all the waiting and teasing. 

“So—about that show,” you lean up, pushing her closer to your face, “What was it again? Something about you being a nymphomaniac? Delete what?”

“You mean Delete This? Let’s not.” 

Mention of the premise alone is enough to set her gummy cheeks on fire. For someone whose career has been built up on mostly more general audience friendly programming, leading a sexual soap opera is quite the jump.  

She buries her head on your neck, embarrassed, feeling guilty. “Yeah. I mean, last night was—different, you know? I’ve shown my tits and body already, but I’ve never had sex—on screen before.”

You should have known. She needed a reason to get in your pants without your working relationship only centering around your bodies. And those were clearly stand-ins based on how her face is never shown during her older scenes.

“Jesus, Hyem. If you wanted to have sex, you could have asked anytime. You have no idea how annoyed I was when they scrapped our scene last minute. It was only you taking off your shirt too.”

“On the bright side, we didn’t have an intimacy director getting in the way, right?”

She does have a point. Still, your personal cold war didn’t need to last 18 months before either of you would make the first move.

But with all that tension a thing of the past, the chains are unfettered. Now both of you have the ability to take this little secret in any direction you desire. You could simply be a workplace couple; it’s been the story of your year so far. Or you could take things a step further. The possibilities are truly endless.

Hyewon’s cheeky grin slowly reforms, her hand snaking up to cup your cheek. “Shame we only had one night. I could spend the rest of the day here, but—” she huffs, “I’m running late. Too bad I won’t get to have this cock for a long, long time.”

You lift an amused eyebrow, barely able to keep your new cockiness from showing. “Will you, though?”

She’s taken completely by surprise. “What do you mean?”

“Check your phone.”

After rising to her feet, Hyewon walks over to the console table where her purse is set. Fishing her phone from the handbag, she scrolls through the apps, her attention di–vided between the screen and you on the floor, finally getting up as well. 

Her stare then lingers on the phone, as if whatever headline of the day has caught her attention. 

Next thing you know, she’s grabbing you by the chest, dragging you back to the bedroom before shoving you back onto the mattress—right where you belong. Pinning you down and dead to rights, Hyewon mounts herself on your lap, your cock pressed against her aching core, ready to receive a fresh beating.

Some jokes can go a little too far.

“You fucking asshole. You mean that—”

“Yep.”

“And it’s not—”

“It’s not.”

You can feel her hips slowly grinding against yours. You’re gonna love—and hate—the next 18 months with Hyewon.

“I’m going to kill you. And I mean: kill you.”

“No better way to go out.”

—————

(A/N: Thank you for the commission! That Hyewon dress is so ripe for material, and I had to incorporate her tattoos into it somehow. She doesn't show them quite often—heck, she hasn't publicly addressed them even once, I believe. That little nod at the end is for everyone still waiting for Delete this to return. At this point, a reimagining or remake must happen first before the next actual episode because good God my writing back then versus now is night & day. Even comparing the last update from 2022(?) to today is also radically different in style. I'm still interested in reviving it; it's just a matter of when, not if. Thank you for reading!)

[p0orbaby]

Mud, Sweat and Tears

summary: you like the outdoors, leah doesn’t, what could go wrong ?

warnings: none

a/n: based on this request ! thanks !

word count: 1.5k

-

It’s Saturday morning, early. Unforgivably early. The kind of early where the sun’s still hiding behind the trees, and any reasonable person would be asleep. But you’re not reasonable, and you’re not asleep. You’re packing the car with fishing rods, a tent, and Leah Williamson, who’s standing in the driveway, half-awake, holding a thermos of coffee like it’s the only thing tethering her to this planet.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Leah asks, squinting up at the sky like she’s expecting it to open up and swallow her whole.

“Yes,” you say, a little too cheerily for this hour. You’re from a camping family—one that considers sleeping bags and bug spray essential items. For you, weekends are made for hiking trails and catching fish with nothing but a stick and a string. Leah, on the other hand, is the type of person who thinks “roughing it” means staying in a hotel without room service.

Leah sighs, long and dramatic, and you can tell this is going to be a weekend of constant commentary. You love her, but she’s never been one to suffer in silence.

You get in the car and drive. Leah stares out the window, probably counting the number of coffee shops you pass that she’s being cruelly denied. You try to distract her with stories from your childhood, tales of catching frogs and sitting in a fishing chair eating beans out the tin, but Leah’s only response is, “Couldn’t you just do that in your garden?”

-

When you arrive at the campsite, Leah’s first question is, “Where’s the toilet?” You point to the woods, and she stares at you like you’ve just suggested she eat dirt.

“You’re kidding,” she says, though she knows you’re not.

You grin. “It’s called nature. People have been doing it for thousands of years”

“People also used to die at thirty,” she shoots back.

You set up the tent while Leah hovers nearby, looking like she’s trying to work out how to teleport back to London. She’s mumbling to herself, something about bears and serial killers, and you catch the phrase “the beginning of a horror film” as you hammer in the last tent peg.

“It’s not that bad,” you say, shaking out the sleeping bags. “Look, we’re surrounded by trees, fresh air, the sound of birds—”

“—and the nearest bathroom is in the next county,” she interrupts, arms crossed.

You laugh, but she’s still frowning, looking at the tent as if it’s a creature that might bite her.

“Is it too late to go back?” she asks, and she’s only half-joking.

“Yes,” you say firmly. “You’re going to love it. Just give it a chance”

Leah doesn’t answer, but you can see her mentally reviewing the terms of your relationship, wondering if it’s really worth it.

-

The first hike is a gentle one. You choose a path that’s scenic, with views of the lake, thinking it’ll win Leah over. She starts off strong, even enjoying herself for the first ten minutes. But then she hits a rock with her boot and lets out a string of words that would make a sailor blush.

“I don’t know how you do this,” she mutters, rubbing her toe through her boot. “I’m a footballer, and even I think this is excessive”

You offer her a hand to steady herself over a tricky bit of trail, but she swats it away. “I can do it,” she insists, right before she stumbles and nearly faceplants into a bush.

You help her up, biting back a laugh. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” she grumbles. “But if I die out here, I’m haunting you”

“Noted,” you say, still smiling.

A little further down the trail, you stop to point out a bird—something you’ve seen a hundred times but you know will be new to her. Leah squints at it, trying to look impressed.

“Wow,” she says, without any real enthusiasm. “A bird”

“You’re not even trying,” you accuse, though you’re still grinning.

“I am,” she argues. “I’m trying to stay alive. This is a survival situation now”

-

Fishing is the next disaster. You’re by the lake, showing Leah how to cast a line, when she gets the hook tangled in a tree branch on her first try. She’s staring at it, hanging like a Christmas ornament, and you can see the moment she decides fishing is the worst thing ever invented.

“This is stupid,” she declares, as you untangle the line.

“No, it’s relaxing,” you correct. “It’s about patience”

“I have patience,” she retorts. “I put up with you”

You laugh, but Leah’s dead serious, looking at the water like it owes her something.

You manage to catch a fish—small, but it’s something. Leah just watches as you handle it with ease, her expression a mix of admiration and abject horror.

“Now what?” she asks, eyeing the fish like it might jump up and slap her.

“Now we let it go,” you say, holding it gently before releasing it back into the lake. “Catch and release”

“So we’re torturing fish for fun,” she sums up, crossing her arms.

You roll your eyes. “That’s not the point. It’s about being in nature, enjoying the peace and quiet”

She looks around, like she’s searching for this peace and quiet you’re talking about. “If by ‘peace and quiet’ you mean insects and dirt,’ then sure”

“Come on,” you say, leading her back to the shore. “You’re doing great”

She grumbles something about Stockholm Syndrome, but she follows you, brushing a mosquito off her arm with a look of pure betrayal.

-

The first night is the real test. You’re lying in the tent, cozy in your sleeping bag, while Leah fidgets next to you. You can hear her shifting around, trying to get comfortable, letting out exaggerated sighs every thirty seconds.

“I can hear you,” you finally say, eyes still closed.

“This ground is trying to kill me,” she replies, her voice muffled by her sleeping bag. “How is this comfortable?”

“It’s not supposed to be a hotel bed, Leah,” you say, still amused. “It’s camping”

“Right, camping,” she mutters. “Which is just paying money to pretend you’re homeless”

You laugh out loud at that, and Leah finally cracks a smile, even if she doesn’t want to admit it.

After a few more minutes of restless shifting, she huffs again. “I need to piss”

You point towards the trees, again. “Nature’s calling”

She doesn’t move. “You’re really not joking, are you”

“Nope”

Leah stares at you like you’ve just suggested she drink the lake water. “I’m not going out there alone. What if something eats me?”

“Like what?”

She thinks for a moment, then shrugs. “Bears. Wolves. A very aggressive squirrel”

You sit up, knowing you’re not going to win this one. “Fine, I’ll come with you”

You both get up and trudge out into the dark, Leah clinging to your arm like she’s convinced the woods are full of monsters. After she’s done, you’re walking back to the tent when she suddenly stops.

“What?” you ask, turning to look at her.

“Did you hear that?” she whispers, eyes wide.

“Hear what?”

She doesn’t answer, just pulls you along faster, practically dragging you into the tent. You both dive in and zip it up like you’re sealing yourselves in a bunker.

Leah’s heart is racing as she gets back into her sleeping bag, and you can’t help but smile at how seriously she’s taking this.

“Nothing’s out there,” you say, trying to reassure her.

“I’m not taking any chances,” she mutters, pulling the sleeping bag over her head like it’ll protect her from the unknown terrors of the forest.

You lie back down, still smiling to yourself. “Goodnight, Leah”

“Goodnight,” she mumbles, and you can tell she’s already planning how to survive the night.

-

By the end of the weekend, Leah’s still grumbling, still complaining, but there’s a softness to it now. You catch her smiling when she thinks you’re not looking, like maybe—just maybe—she’s starting to see why you love this so much.

You’re packing up the car, and Leah’s pretending to help, mostly by standing around and giving unhelpful advice.

“You know,” she says, as you load the last of the gear, “this wasn’t as awful as I thought it would be.”

“High praise,” you say, wiping your hands on your jeans.

“I mean, I’m never doing it again,” she clarifies, “but it wasn’t awful”

You grin, knowing that’s as close to a victory as you’re going to get. “I’ll take it”

Leah gives you a look, one that says, despite all the complaining, she had a good time in her own way. “You’re lucky I love you,” she says, and it’s the first time all weekend she’s said something without a hint of sarcasm.

“I am,” you agree, leaning in to kiss her.

And as you drive away from the campsite, back towards civilisation, Leah finally falls asleep in the passenger seat, the weekend’s adventures catching up to her. You glance over at her and smile, thinking maybe you’ll get her to go camping again one day. But for now, you’ll let her sleep, knowing you’ve survived the wilderness together.

Even if she still thinks it’s trying to kill her.

[mysecretlittlelibrary]

So Much To Learn

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: a lot, again; Sub!Spencer and kinda mean dom reader, oral (f receiving), age gap (reader is 21), hand job/teasing, honorifics & pet names, marking a lot, p in v sex, they both talking diiiiirty, minor praise, risky sex, multiple orgasms, edging, squirting- I think I got everything??

Genre: Smut kinda fluff and like minor minor angst if you squint

Summary: You don't react well when you realize someone else is giving your professor boyfriend entirely too much of their attention

A/N: technically this is a continuation of So Much To Teach but order is arbitrary lol

Part 1< >Part 3

***

The weeks after Spencer's confession in his office are- fun to say the least. Meeting in secret, teasing him in class, it's all very exciting. With finals just around the corner now though, you're not sure what it means for the two of you. Will he be interested in establishing anything solid with you once you're out of his class? Will things continue as they are? Will he toss you aside only to replace you with another student from another class next semester? The last possibility bothers you more than you'd like to admit. You'll have to find a good time to bring it up to him soon. Between preparing for final exams or papers and Spencer's near insatiable appetite for time with you there's never a moment you want to risk ruining with what will no doubt be an awkward conversation.

There's a slight knock on the door at the back of the classroom that interrupts Spencer's lecture and your wandering mind. Everyone turns to see another professor walk into the room.

"Oh shoot. I'm so sorry Spence I- I thought your class would be over by now." Professor Greene says. She has the decency to look remorseful although you've noticed her sniffing around Spencer for a little while now so you roll your eyes to yourself.

"Oh don't worry about it Professor Greene we're just wrapping up, come on in." Spencer says kindly. "Alright guys reminder, your finals are online and are due at the end of finals week- that's Friday in two weeks' time. We're not meeting on Thursday but next Tuesday for our final meeting time together I'll be having a review session. It's not mandatory but I'll be here during our class time to answer any last minute study questions you may have. I hope to see you next week but if not good luck on all your finals, if you're graduating congratulations, enjoy your holidays, and have a good day!" Spencer dismisses the class. Usually, you'd linger to drop by his office after class but with Professor Greene about to commandeer his attention, you're not sure if you should. Still, you take your time packing up your things while listening in on their conversation.

"I really am so sorry I interrupted your lecture, Spence. I just wanted to ask about the staff meeting I missed the other day." Professor Greene says.

"Oh don't worry about it, Professor Greene but I can email you my notes from the meeting real quick." Spencer says walking over to his computer.

"I've told you a thousand times Spencer call me Ellie." She says patting his shoulder. Spencer mutters something you can barely hear as you exit the classroom. You don't catch the way his eyes trail after you for a moment before he focuses back on sending this email.

"Y/n!" Matt calls pretty much as soon as you make it out of the classroom.

"Oh, hey Lewis. What's up?"

"Was wondering if you were free to meet up sometime to do some studying for the final? Ya know that way we can help each other with things that are confusing and anything we can't figure out together- we can bring up next week during the review session."

"Ya know what that's a great idea Matt. Why don't we do Thursday- since we don't have class we can just hit the library during that time." You suggest.

"Perfect. I'll meet you at the library on Thursday then." Matt smiles, rushing ahead to catch up with some friends. You make your way to Spencer's office like you do after every class although usually you walk together. Today you sit on the bench that's a few feet from his office and wait for him while reading a book.

"Sweetheart. I was wondering where you ran off to." Spencer says when he reaches his office.

"Didn't want to interrupt. She likes you, you know."

"What?" He frowns over his shoulder at you as he unlocks his office door.

"Professor Greene. She was totally flirting with you when she came in during class." You stand up and follow him into his office.

"Was she?" He hums.

"You're telling me you didn't notice?" You scoff.

"Do you want me to notice other women flirting with me?"

"I don't care, Spencer, you're not my boyfriend-"

"Hey, that's not fair." He frowns. You know it's not, Spencer told you early on the only thing stopping him from labeling your relationship was because of how risky it is to date your professor, but you're apparently facing jealousy and it's making you mean.

"I was only saying she's being really obvious. Whether you're interested or not though, is your business. I have some studying to do so I can't stick around today but I didn't want to disappear without letting you know." You say dismissively.

"Y/n," Spencer says softly.

"I'll see you next week." You tell him, turning on your heel. You need to get your feelings under control and quickly.

"I'm not interested in her. You have to know you're the only one on my mind." Spencer says before you make it out the door. You're not even sure what to say back, so you leave without a word.

You've never considered yourself a jealous or insecure person but for some reason, Professor Greene really gets under your skin when it comes to Spencer. Maybe it's because you know it would be easier for him to date her, she's close to his age and there's no taboo surrounding that pairing. That doesn't make feeling this way any less annoying. I mean- you've been ignoring her attempts at making advances at him for the past couple of months but you think the stress of exams and final papers is exacerbating a feeling you normally wouldn't even notice. Honestly, you have entirely too much else going on to be wasting time focused on staking your claim over a man that's only yours in locked offices, empty halls, and dark rooms. You don't fight over men, if Professor Greene can 'take him from you' she can absolutely have him.

By Thursday when you meet up with Matt, you've managed to knock those ugly thoughts of Spencer and Professor Greene to the back of your head, drowning yourself in studying and paper writing. You have no problems in Spencer's class, even before you were fucking him you had an A average so his final is the least of your worries but you know a review can't hurt. You spend way longer than the length of a class studying with Matt, he's a good student which appears to come with great effort on his part. He goes over things in such depth you're actually a little impressed and for a moment there you wonder what it would be like to pick the easy lover. Matt's kind, and attractive, and it would be much less complicated, no sneaking around- well maybe a bit but it would be for fun, not out of necessity. He'd walk you to class holding your hand, and kiss you on the quad, you'd probably adopt his whole friend group, they're athletes whose girlfriends always seem to be adored by all of them. It would be nice, it would be sweet. If things with Spencer do end at the end of the term you'll seriously consider falling for Matt. The version of reality where you end up with him sounds good. If only you'd realized it before Spencer caught your eye so severely. Would things be different? Would you be holding Matt's hand across the table right now? Sitting next to each other in class? Having him over to study late into the night until you'd have him just stay over because you don't want him to leave so late? It seems silly to spend so much time dwelling on a world that you gave up months ago. You blame it on the stress of the end of a semester.

When Tuesday rolls around you go to the review session knowing you don't actually have any questions but maybe someone will ask one you didn't think of that will come in handy. There are not that many people here for the review, some kids from other sections for sure, but still only maybe 20 of you in total. Spencer tries a number of times to catch your attention while he answers questions to gauge how you're feeling but you don't give anything away on your face. That is until Professor Greene walks in about halfway through the review session.

"Hi Spence! Sorry to interrupt, I know you're reviewing for finals and stuff but I ordered a sandwich for lunch and they gave me 2? I just thought I'd offer you one." She smiles as she scurries to the front of the room. Spencer catches the wry smile that just barely cracks your poker face for a moment and he's almost nervous to address Professor Greene.

"Oh- I appreciate it Professor Greene but I brought lunch, I always do. Perhaps Mike would like it if he's on campus? I know he usually buys food at the student center for lunch." He offers. Graceful rejection. Hopefully enough to keep you happy and put off his coworker at the same time. You make a point to not react outwardly but you do notice his choice to call her Professor Greene while calling another professor in the building Mike despite her giggling request last week to call her by her first name.

"Mike?" She blinks at him.

"Yeah he's- probably doing some grading in his office upstairs." Spencer smiles. "Anyone have any other questions for me?" He turns his attention back to the small group of students who mostly seem ready to leave after watching the exchange.

"The exam is a combination of multiple choice and short answer right?" A woman asks.

"Correct, just like your exams in class." He nods. "It- seems like we've covered all your questions guys so, I think it's okay for us to wrap this up a bit early yes?" Spencer asks. Professor Greene is still in the room but Spencer avoids her gaze diligently as the class murmurs affirmatives.

"Spence before you head off can I speak to you for a moment?" Professor Greene asks quietly while the rest of the room is busy packing up their things.

"Of course." He answers reluctantly. "Miss y/n, don't go far I have an assignment of yours I'd like to discuss in my office." Spencer tells you before you can even stand up.

"Sure prof." You drawl resisting the urge to roll your eyes.

"Look Spencer the sandwich was- a decoy. I mean they did give me an extra that I wanted to offer you but it was really an excuse to ask you something else." Professor Greene's tone is hushed as you and a few others are still milling about the room.

"Oh- well what is it?" Spencer asks though his gaze shifts to you every so often. You who sits so seemingly unbothered waiting for him, chewing gum, tapping away on your phone, not even looking their way although your ears are definitely paying attention.

"I'm having a little faculty get-together and I wanted to invite you personally."

"What, like going out for drinks?"

"Yeah exactly! Will you be there?"

"Uh- email me the details and I'll let you know."

"Awesome! I really hope to see you there Spence." She places her hand on his arm and he quickly walks over to his satchel to escape the touch.

"I'll- see what I can do." He mutters. "Is that all? I don't want to keep y/n waiting all afternoon."

"Y/n?" She frowns.

"My student? The only person in the room. Who I asked to wait up when I dismissed everyone?" Spencer frowns at her.

"Right! I guess I forgot. One track mind sometimes." She waves off with a giggle. How unnecessarily dismissive.

"Y/n. My office. Ready to go?" He turns his attention to you without even addressing her comment.

"Whenever you're done." You shrug.

"That would be now."

"Alright. Let's go." You stand up and exit the class before him.

"I'll see you at the gathering Spencer." Professor Greene says as he follows you out. You don't say anything as you walk down the halls with Spencer trailing behind. He thinks he handled that well but he can't tell. It's like you're being hard to read on purpose. He unlocks his office door and lets you inside before him, shutting it behind him.

"Look I-"

"I think you should go." You tell him first.

"What?"

"To her little get together. I think you should go." You shrug.

"You do?" He frowns which deepens when you nod. "Why?" He asks.

"It's good for you to socialize with your coworkers." You offer noncommittally.

"You're in a better mood about her today than you were last week." He says carefully.

"Is the door locked?" You ask him.

"What?"

"To your office. Did you lock the door?"

"Oh- yes. I always lock-"

"Yes is sufficient." You say sitting in his office chair.

"Sweetheart, talk to me, what's-" He stops when you hold up one of your hands.

"Spencer, drop to your knees." You say.

"What?" He blinks at you.

"It's a very simple instruction, I would expect a man with as many degrees as you hold would be able to understand a 4-word command."

"I understood it fine I just-"

"Then why are you still standing? If you understood it Spencer do it. I want you on your knees. Now." You cross your arms. Spencer slowly, unsurely, lowers himself to his knees, still by the door to his office. "That's better. Come over to me. And just so we're clear you'll have to crawl." Spencer bends and shuffles over to you on his hands and knees, gaze pointed at the carpet in his office. You've discussed the possibility of him giving up control a number of times but this is not how he expected today to go. When he's by your side you lift his chin up to force his eyes to yours. "Finals week starts in two days Spence, I've got three papers and two exams to think about. I don't have time to worry about if you're going to behave or not." You tell him.

"I-"

"Choose your next words very carefully baby they might just ruin your day." You warn him.

"I would never misbehave darling. My loyalties are to you." He says softly.

"Are you willing to prove that?" You ask.

"However you ask me to." He says immediately.

"I like that answer." You hum. You tug your dress over your head and drop it on his desk. "You can start by removing my panties with your teeth." You tell him. "Just your teeth. I want your hands behind your back." You add. Spencer shuffles forward and tugs at your underwear with his teeth. You move only when absolutely necessary to help but he gets them off after a few moments and holds them between his lips, looking at you for further instructions. "Good boy professor." You pull them from his mouth and drop them on the desk beside your dress. "You'll need your mouth free for this next bit." You say threading your fingers into his hair. "Your loyalties are with me you said?"

"Of course princess." Spencer's reply is breathy.

"Hm- no, not princess. Today you can call me mistress or your queen. I'll let you choose but only between those two. Anything else will get you in trouble and- today is not the day to get in trouble."

"O-okay, My Queen."

"Good. And as for proving your loyalties, you can begin with your head between my thighs, let's see how loyal you are." You spread your legs and tug at his hair still in your hand hard enough to shove his face directly into your center. Spencer is quick to react, his tongue laps up your juices as eagerly as you'd expect. He will regularly spend ages between your legs when he can just because he enjoys tasting you so much. Your back arches as he thrusts his tongue into your pussy feverishly. "Yeah, oh fuck, keep going. Show me- show me your devotion." You moan out as you grind against his mouth. Spencer groans into you as you pull at his hair. His tongue curls inside you just barely brushing against that spongy patch and you have to bite your lip to keep from squealing when he does. Spencer's nose nudges at your clit as he focuses his tongue on your inner walls until your legs stiffen around his ears. When that happens he drags his tongue up to your clit and focuses his attention there, wrapping his lips around the bundle of nerves and sucking on it while his tongue lashes it with figure 8s. You almost scream when your orgasm crashes into you, fingers tightening in his hair and your back coming off the chair as you ride the waves of your release. "Don't- don't stop Spence. Fuck- keep sucking my clit." You pant out. Your eyes squeeze shut at the almost painful stimulation, but you want a second orgasm from him before you let him up for air and you plan to get it. You swallow your whines from those first few moments of post-orgasmic overstimulation and force Spencer further into your heat, practically smooshing his face against you. Your moan when overstimulation gives way to pure pleasure again is enough to have Spencer clenching his fists as more blood rushes to his already painfully hard dick. It fills him with a new level of determination as he sharpens the movements of his tongue against you. Your second orgasm builds quickly, and within a few minutes, you're shaking again, this orgasm covering Spencer's face and even squirting onto his shirt. You pull his hair harshly enough to move him away from you as you take a few deep breaths. Spencer sits panting, covered in your juices, pupils blown so wide there's no trace of his hazel-colored irises. "Look at what a mess you are." You hum. "You look pretty like this."

"Thank you- mistress." His voice is hoarse.

"Strip and sit on the couch. You can walk this time." You tell him. He stands, though a little unsteadily, and walks over to the loveseat, taking off his shirt and then his pants before sitting down with his gaze trained on you. You take your time standing from his chair and walking over to him, detouring to grab your jacket that you'd tossed over your backpack upon entry. You won't put the dress back on for now, having totally soaked your lover you have no interest in walking out of here in a damp dress, but your leather jacket will be fine. Spencer watches you with rapt attention as you finally approach him, his dick is an angry looking red flopped against his stomach and his whole body is tense. You drag a finger across his thigh and then up the length of his dick, slowly, reveling in the way he jolts at the contact.

"P-please." He gasps out.

"Please what Spencer?" You tilt your head at him.

"I- I need you to do something my queen I can't- it hurts."

"Do something? I'm already touching you. You need more?"

"Yes mistress, please." Spencer's head is tossed back against the couch as you trace the veins along his dick lazily.

"You're a greedy thing." You hum.

"Please mistress- please my queen I need- god please sit on my dick. Need it so bad- need you. I can't- can't help it." Spencer grips the cushions beneath him tightly, desperately trying not to squirm under your touch.

"Only because you beg very cutely." You tell him swinging your leg over to straddle him. You grip the base of his dick in your hand and lower yourself onto him with a satisfied hum while he lets out a guttural sound that makes your walls clench around him.

"Oh god thank you, my queen. thank you, thank you. You feel so good." Spencer pants out. You brace yourself using his shoulders and set your rhythm, bouncing on his dick quickly.

"Spencer, you're not allowed to cum until I say so." You tell him, grabbing his face to make sure he's listening.

"O-okay mistress. Of course mistress." He nods frantically.

"Fuck Spence this is what you're good for, this is where you belong. Filling me with your pretty little cock, covered in my squirt, you're mine aren't you baby?" You huff as you ride him furiously.

"Yes my queen yes. I'm yours. Just yours. Only you get to use me, touch me, take me. Only you make me feel so good." Spencer groans. You feel his body tense up under you and slow your pace almost to a stop.

"Not yet Spence." You mutter sweetly kissing his neck. You stay there for a few moments, grinding against him as you take some time to litter his throat with hickeys of various sizes some of which are quite dark as well. Dark enough that you're sure he'll have them through finals week. When you're satisfied with the marks covering him you pick up your pace again and his small whimpers from your lips against his skin turn to full-blown moans again. "This time Spencer you can cum, but you ask first." You tell him. He nods at your instruction and while you should scold him for not using his words you'll let it slide considering how close you know he is. He barely manages a few minutes before he's stuttering out his request.

"C-can I mistress please can I cum?" He pants out frantically.

"Good boy. Yes you can." You chuckle airily at the relief on his face when you give him permission. You keep pace until heat spills into you at which point your hips slam down harder against him even when he begins hissing from overstimulation.

"M-my queen I- too sensitive w-wait."

"I said you could cum baby but I didn't say I'd be done with you. Today you're my toy and I'll use you as long as I want. So be good and let me play." You say, letting yourself relish in the feeling of filling yourself over and over, even as his release leaks out of you and makes his thighs sticky. You moan in surprise when Spencer's dick hardens again inside you. "Oh- fuck. Well aren't you just the perfect plaything- eager to keep your queen happy."

"I- I- yes mistress." He whines. You ride him for a while longer, taking all he has to give and then some. He fills you two more times before you're satisfied and you make sure you have a couple more releases of your own by the time you're climbing off of his completely spent dick. You walk carefully over to his desk and grab his pack of wet wipes before walking back over to him, cleaning up the utter mess around his thighs. If he didn't look so exhausted you'd have him clean the mess on your thighs with his tongue, but right now you think if you asked Spencer to do anything else he'd simply collapse, so you take a few wipes to clean up yourself once you're done with him.

"You were very good today Spencer. I'd say you more than proved your devotion." You tell him with a gentle kiss.

"You're mean when you're jealous." He chuckles breathlessly.

"So are you professor." You tap his nose and stand to dress yourself. You pick his clothes up from the floor and lay them on the arm of the chair for whenever he gets the energy to stand and dress himself. You find his lunch and set it out for him on the table as well while you're at it.

"Are you leaving?" He asks, barely able to focus.

"Well- I do have some studying to do. Will you be okay? Do you want me to stay?" You ask. You won't leave him if he's going to drop but you've set up food, cleaned him up, and made sure he knows he did well.

"I- I don't want Professor Greene you know." He mumbles.

"I know, that's why I think you should go to her gathering. With all those pretty marks on your neck, she'll surely get the hint." You say. You bend over and gently brush some hair from his eyes. "You make me feel so territorial." You mutter.

"I'm sorry." He pouts.

"It's not your fault, it's unavoidable but- I don't like hiding you." You say.

"I don't like hiding you either." Spencer takes your hand in his. You pause for a moment and sigh.

"Do you want me to stay with you, Spence?" You ask brushing your thumb against the back of his hand.

"Can you spare the time?" He asks.

"Sure. But at some point, we should talk about what the end of the semester means for us." You say. Spencer sits up and you sit on the couch letting him rest his head in your lap.

"When you finish all your finals I have a question for you." He slurs a bit through his declaration.

"Why not just ask me now?"

"I want your head clear." You can barely make it out, he's obviously falling asleep, your fingers against his scalp lulling him too quickly. You're still high off adrenaline now, not quite ready to sleep but you know you'll feel the effects of this later. Good thing tomorrow is study day and you can get away with not leaving your apartment.

***

A/N: I was gonna post this on Friday but I’m posting it early as a thank you for all the love on part 1 already 🖤

[victoria-writes]

Elvish For Dummies

Pairing: Legolas x Reader (gender neutral)

Summary: Set after the events of LoTR. You live with Legolas in Mirkwood and he teaches you Elvish. Pure fluff.

Word Count: 1039

Notes: Established relationship, reader is human, tried to make the sindarin elvish as accurate as possible so apologies for any mistakes, I’m multilingual so I based this off of my own experience with learning languages 

Read it on AO3 here

Story:

Despite the fellowship having disbanded, each day with Legolas seemed like another adventure. During your perilous journey together, the two of you had grown closer than either of you thought possible. The mere thought of being apart from you pulled at his heartstrings. He could not bear the thought of being separated from his new love. After the one ring was destroyed, the elf invited you to come with him to Mirkwood. Hastily, you agreed, for you too could not wait to start a new life with the elven prince. 

Since reaching Mirkwood, many seasons have passed and you two grow closer by the day. Under his guidance, your archery skills and ability to speak Elvish have improved. He took it upon himself to privately tutor you in the tongue of his people. Legolas still giggles when you fumble certain words on your tongue, but is quick to apologize, never wanting to discourage you. He says you have made remarkable progress and that you possess great linguistic potential. Whether that is true or he is exaggerating with sugar coated words, you cannot tell but it feels good to hear his encouragement either way. 

Most of your days together included walks through the woods and riding horseback, but today was a gloomy rainy day. A day that, Legolas decided, would be a wonderful excuse to help you get back to your studies. It’s not that you did not enjoy Elvish. Oh no! You quite liked hearing him whisper loving words to you as he held your gaze. 

“Meleth nîn, Im tur feel cín emel dring dan sab - My love, I can feel your heartbeat against mine”, he would say as he held you in his arms, his breath dancing upon your skin with each syllable. 

Saying you enjoyed that would be the understatement of the century. Everything in Sindarin sounded like poetry. Even the most mundane sentences were said with purpose and flowered language. Unfortunately for you, that also meant the most basic phrases you had to learn weren’t your typical ones. Instead of “I went to the store”, you had to say “I depart to look for food - Im gwann- na thír an aes”. It seems that most Elvish children learn how to say things like “I can feel it in the earth - Im tur- feel ha in i coe” before they learn “please” and “thank you”. No wonder they all sound prophetic when they speak common. Creepy oracle sounding sentence structure as your first language combined with being thousands of years old will do that. 

“Meleth nîn, you’re drifting off. Shall we return to our lesson or is a break needed?”, Legolas' words break you out of your trance. You look up from your desk, covered in notes, to see him towering above you, eyebrow raised and arms crossed. 

“Apologies, I was merely pondering the linguistic differences between Sindarin and Quenya Elvish”, you quickly come up with the excuse to hide the fact that you were simply not paying attention. 

“Is that so?”, 

“Yes, yes, the distinction between Elvish languages is very interesting to me”.

“This is the third time this lesson you’ve been distracted by those differences”.

“Ah, well…”, you trail off, caught red-handed. 

“Y/N, I will not force you to learn Sindarin if you do not wish it”.

“No, no, no, I want to learn. I promise. It’s all just new to me and takes a moment to sink in. Please, repeat what you said. I’m paying attention”.

Legolas smiles but does not repeat himself. Instead, he moves on to an exercise he is sure will get your attention. 

“We shall review what I have taught you thus far.” 

…

“ Very good, Y/N. Now how would you say ‘the stars shine white’?”

“ I elena mír thilivern” 

“The grass is green?”

“I thár na- calen”        

“Very good pronunciation. You have done well. I believe it is time to learn some new vocabulary”.

You take out a new sheet of paper from your stack, ready to write. 

“You need not write for this portion. Repeat after me.” 

“Okay”. You put your quill down. 

“Meleth nîn.”

“Meleth nîn. I know what that means already. You say it all the time”.

“And what does it mean?”

“My love”, your lips turn upward in a shy smile.  

“Very good. Let us move on then”, he smiles brightly, as if pleasantly surprised despite knowingly fully well that you knew its meaning. 

“I’m ready. Hit me.” 

He suddenly sits down next to you and takes your hands into his own.

“Im mel cin”  

“Im mel cin”  

“Do you know its meaning?”   

“No, should I? I’m sorry.”, your eyes widen as you try to recall whether he had said it before in a previous lesson. 

Legolas throws his head back with laughter. This may be the hardest you’ve ever seen him laugh before… and it’s at you. Great. 

“Apologies. Apologies.”, he manages to get out between giggles, “The look on your face was priceless.” Your face sours at this and Legolas manages to resist a second burst of laughter from it. He thinks you equal parts hilarious and adorable. 

“You would not have known this phrase as I have never spoken it to you before. I do think it is high time for you to learn it”.

“Okay, so what does it mean?”, you scrunch your eyebrows together, ego still a little hurt from being laughed at. 

His grip on your hands tighten but his touch stays gentle as ever. He has always been gentle with you. His gaze holds the same softness. No, even deeper.  The blue of his eyes seem more vibrant and invite you in to look deeper within him. His eyes tell of a love that can never be truly explained in any language. Legolas has always had a staring problem when it comes to you, but this is something different entirely. Your cheeks redden at his seriousness.

“I love you”.

Your eyes widen once more and before you can react, he kisses you. Deeply. Passionately. 

“I love you. I love you. I love you.” he repeats again and again into your lips. 

…

Maybe learning a new language isn’t so bad, if you have the right teacher.

[chibieggplant]

Allies

Angy Law | Fluffy

Inspired by @mariistyping fic Allies? No

You had initially gone to the medical bay to seek out Law and review the plans for the upcoming mission. Although only a few weeks had passed since meeting each other, the bond between the two of you had grown significantly, resulting in a unique connection that was hard to ignore. You found yourself sitting intimately next to him, with your legs casually draped over his lap. As Law's fingers traced along your jaw, you inched your face closer to his, and the conversation about plans became irrelevant and faded away. It would be an understatement to say you both were startled when Nami waltzed into the room, talking about how Chopper needed more medical supplies.

Nami's sudden appearance surprised you both, breaking the spell that had fallen over you. Looking over to see her expression, which could only be described as shock, you quickly got off of his lap and hid away the feelings of embarrassment that started to creep up on you. The two of you had decided to keep your feelings for each other a secret for now, so Nami's suspicion as she narrowed her eyes, trying to process the situation was well warranted.

You discreetly cleared your throat, trying your best to appear nonchalant. While Law got up from his seat with a noticeable blush on his face, avoiding eye contact with anyone. “N-nami, we were just discussing the plans for the upcoming missions and reviewing the erm…” You could tell by the look in her eyes and her slightly amused expression that she knew exactly what was happening. Looking back at you, she smirked and responded. "Oh, is that right? I'm sure you two were...discussing everything."

“W-well, we’re allies, so naturally, staying prepared is crucial. And uh, hence why we were…we were making sure we are ready for…” you trail off and shift your gaze to Law, who is now looking at you with narrowed eyes. “Anyway...I think the plans are pretty much sorted, yeah, so…” you briskly walk past Nami, making a beeline to your room to dodge any potential questions and further humiliation.

Nami's smirk didn't fade as you hurried out of the room, leaving behind an awkward and tense atmosphere between her and Law. As soon as you were out of the room, the two of them started staring at each other in silence. Law was both annoyed at your haste and frustrated at himself for being so reckless, but more than that, he was pissed at your choice of words. “Allies?" He muttered under his breath. That was a mistake. Your choice of wording profoundly impacted him, stirring something deep inside him which led him to question who you saw him as. He acknowledged that he had no right to be upset with you, but the word you chose left him feeling angry nonetheless. “Excuse me” Without sparing even a passing glance towards Nami, he strode hastily towards your room.

Your attempt to dodge Nami seemed to have been a catalyst to kickstart Law’s need to confront you. His steps were quick and heavy as he walked through the halls of the Thousand Sunny. He stormed in your room without knocking. He was clearly pissed off, and it showed. "y/n-ya..." His voice was soft, yet firm.

You were lying on your bed with your head buried in your arms, lost in a sea of self-pity and embarrassment when Law burst into your room. As he stood there, staring at you, his eyes were filled with frustration and annoyance. As your gaze met his, an almost palpable tension filled the silence that ensued.

“Allies?..." There was a slight tinge of hurt when he asked the question. He glared at you for a few moments before speaking again. "Was that the best you could come up with? Allies? Is that how you see me? An ally?" his tone was laced with a hint of sarcasm and bitterness. He let out a small snort and crossed his arms, looking away with an agitated expression.

“We said we weren't going to tell anyone!” you protested as you stood up from the bed. “I didn't expect Nami to come waltzing in. That was the best I could come up with on the spot…” you uttered with a slight pout.

Your statement had done little to appease Law's agitation. Instead, it only fueled it further. His expression only hardened. "That's not the point, y/n-ya! You could have come up with any other word besides allies!" He spoke harsher than he intended, his voice slightly rising.

“Well…well, what would you have referred to us as?” You crossed your arms in a huff. He was taken back by your counterquestion. His expression softened slightly as he realized you had a point. His stance stiffened, and he looked down slightly, his voice losing some of its sternness. "I-i don't know…Friends? Or..." he stopped speaking, his voice fading away as he let out a deep sigh of frustration “But definitely not allies.." he mumbled under his breath, clearly annoyed with himself for becoming so annoyed at the situation. There was a short moment of silence before he sighed again and his expression softened once more. Instead of speaking, he simply stepped towards you and pulled you into a warm embrace. “We’re not allies” He murmured softly as he nestled his face in the nape of your neck.

The suddenness of his embrace caught you off-guard, but you welcomed it willingly as you wrapped your arms around him, too. He was so warm, and the comforting pressure of his body against yours made it easy to bury your worries. You were both silent for a while, with only the sound of his heart beating strongly against your chest. Finally, you broke the silence by whispering. "Just so you know, you're much more than an ally."

When you spoke, he could feel your soft breath on his neck. A warm smile spread across his lips as he let out a small chuckle. You could feel his tension slowly subsiding as he pressed a kiss firmly to your neck “Good," He said simply. His embrace slowly loosened slightly, but he still maintained a firm grip, refusing to let go just yet. There was a pause before he finally spoke again. "You know I don't like all the mushy stuff, right?" He mumbled, his voice low and quiet.

Though his tone didn't quite capture it, you knew there was a slight smile on his face as he made his comment. It made you grin faintly as you nuzzled your face into him. He was right, though. He was terrible at mushy stuff; but it was cute when he tried. “Yeah, I know” As you nestled into his arms, you felt a sense of peace wash over you. The warmth of his embrace made you feel secure, and you knew that he cared for you sincerely.

"But…I'll make an exception just for you, okay?" He drew back a bit, his cheeks tinged with a faint blush. This all was still a new experience for him, but he was making an effort for you. You could feel his heartbeat quickening as he tried to hold on tight to his cool and stoical exterior. He didn't want to be the type to get too sappy, but he couldn't help himself from time to time. His hand rose to gently stroke the side of your face as his gaze locked with yours. "Besides…now I have a girlfriend. I guess I better get used to it." As he spoke, his voice grew softer, and his hands gently moved to run through your hair. Your heart skipped a beat as he called you his girlfriend for the first time. “Girlfriend?” you whispered softly.

"Girlfriend." He said once again, this time firmly and clearly. "Now when someone asks you about our relationship, you can say boyfriend, not ally” Although he intended to say this playfully, it was evident that he was expressing his thoughts seriously.

You let out a quiet chuckle, finding yourself smiling as he held you. Him calling you his girlfriend was a pleasant surprise. Though not quite the romantic gesture you expected, it was comforting and endearing in its own way. He may not yet feel comfortable being all cutesy and sappy, but this was more than enough to make you happy. You felt his eyes fix onto yours as he smiled, his gaze filled with warmth. “So, does this mean we can finally tell everyone about us?” you grinned with anticipation, hoping that he'd give a positive response.

Unable to resist a smirk, he returned your grin and gave you a quick nod. "I think we can. Maybe it's a good thing Nami caught us. Now everyone can know that I'm your boyfriend.” His smirk grew as he whispered that last part, his voice tinged with a subtle note of possessiveness. He hadn't intended to come out like that, but he found himself wanting to make it known that he was your significant other.

Your smile widened at the response. You were happy to be able to announce your relationship openly finally and have confirmation on the relationship between you. As he continued to grin, his hand rose to brush the strands of hair out of your face, and he leaned forward slightly to whisper another few words. “Just to clarify, I'm yours, and you're mine, alright? And no one gets to touch what's mine.” He had a subtle tone of voice, seemingly humorous, but in reality, he meant every word.

The tone of his voice and the hint of seriousness he conveyed left you in no doubt that he meant what he said. Although the sentiment may have seemingly been playful, it was evident that he fully meant it, albeit in his own way. You smirked once again before leaning towards him, your fingers reaching up to grab his hand. "I can't decide which is cuter. Your mushy moments or the possessive side of you." You giggled before adding, “But I think I like both.”

He smirked and shook his head, his face now a deep shade of pink as he realised how mushy he had just been. After a moment, he sighed and let out an amused chuckle as he squeezed your hand. "Oh, shut up. I know I don't give off a romantic vibe." He replied with a flicker of irritation, although he knew he was anything but irritated right now as he continued to gaze into your eyes.

You feigned a scowl as he expressed his irritation, and you responded playfully. "And yet here you are being adorable and mushy…you could have fooled me." With that said, you gave a soft chuckle as you squeezed his hand once again. In a moment of impulse, you drew close to him until you faces were only a few inches apart. Your movements were enough to catch his attention, and he noted the distance between you. He let out an amused sigh and raised a brow. You could have sworn by the quick flash of his grin that he was enjoying this, even if he wouldn't admit it. You were about to speak, but you were cut off by Law suddenly leaning in and locking his lips with yours. Your breath hitched as his hand tightened around yours, pulling you closer to him. His lips were warm and welcoming as he embraced you passionately.

As you wrapped your arms around him, your lips seamlessly blended with his in a heated kiss that felt natural and effortless. The embrace of his arms around you made you feel safe and secure as if nothing else in the world mattered. As his hand reached up, he gently caressed the back of your head while his lips pressed against yours, deepening the kiss with a firm yet tender touch. He drew you in, his lips parting as his tongue flicked across your lower lip. He let out a soft hum, his tone filled with intensity as he pulled back a bit, caught up in the moment. He uttered just one word -”Mine”- but it carried a weight that left no room for doubt. He leaned in to kiss you once more, your mouths meeting in a tender embrace. His hands smoothly glided down the curves of your body, firmly grasping the sides of your waist, bringing you even closer to him.

When your mouths met again, you could feel his intensity as your bodies pressed together. As if driven by sheer passion, he placed one hand on your lower back and pushed tightly against you, his other hand reaching up and wrapping around the back of your neck. His touch radiated heat as the heat of the moment filled the air. Your breath hitched with each movement, and your lips parted in a soft gasp. You could barely catch your breath in moments, the passion filling every corner of your being. His kiss was vigorous and consuming but filled with tender affection as he parted his lips to speak.

"Always remember, you belong to me, and I belong to you" his voice was soft and smooth, although you could sense the undercurrent of possessive intent creeping into his tone. The hand on the back of your neck tightened ever so slightly, his grip firm but gentle as he pulled you back into another kiss. He made sure to express all his intentions clearly, and he did so successfully. He wanted you to understand that you were his.

[miirohs]

antics [b.c]

pairing: Model!Bang Chan x GN!Reader wc: 0.9k cw: lowkey suggestive. an: oh he wounds me oh how i want this man!!!! jail for bang chan for these, jail for a thousand years!!!

“Stay still, i just wanna see them up close,” you whined, pulling Chan in closer by the delicate chain loosely hanging on his neck as you surveyed it closely.

“Careful, those cost a lot more than you think baby,” He chastised softly, watching through hooded eyes as you fiddled with the necklaces, trying to pull them off his neck, “If you wanted to see them, you could’ve just asked me.”

“Okay, then,” You rolled your eyes playfully, “you should take them off.”

“I should’ve known you were up to no good as soon as you texted me about visiting me,” He groaned, adam’s apple bobbing as he tipped his head back on the chair, closing his eyes, “Wouldn’t have allowed you to come here if you were going to act like a brat.”

“Well, it’s not like you’re on total duty anymore.” You said, cracking a small mischievous smile.

“Well then, what do you want? I know you didn’t just come here making small talk baby.” He tilted his head at you as you shifted in his lap, making yourself more comfortable.

“For you to tell me about your day. I just really missed you, it’s so lonely without you in my mansion.” You giggled, earning a scoff of suspicion from Chan.

“No. You’re going to do something else, I can feel it-“ He tittered, jolting as you leaned down to his face, hands on his chest. The cool metal pressing into your palm had a nice contrast to the heat rolling off him.

“So you can be a top model but not my boyfriend Channie?” You pouted, simpering at him as he attempted to move you off of himself, even if it was to no avail. “Not on the job, it’s unprofessional- baby, stop.” You snickered at his command, landing a quick kiss on his jaw. 

“Watch it.” He warned you carefully, narrowing his eyes at you. “I want you to take a long, hard thought about what’s going to happen if you…” He trailed off, letting out a broken grunt as you kissed his throat.

Leaning against him, you settled your head in the crook of his neck, moving the fabric aside to allow you more access.

“Be gentle Y/n, I-“ Chan jolted as you bit down, a quiet moan slipping from his lips. 

He was flustered, staring at you with glossy eyes as you gave him a quick kiss on the lips, returning back to what you were doing.

He clutched the armrest of the chair as you sucked at the spot, earning a series of soft gasps from him. 

Looping your hand in one of the long forgotten necklaces, you pulled at them as you mindlessly moved from one patch of skin to another, bruises slowly forming around his collarbone and neck from your relentless attacks. 

As you attempted to move to his adam's apple, he pulled you back by the shirt, whining as you ran your fingers through his disheveled hair. “You’re obsessed with seeing my bare neck, aren’t you, you little freak?” He panted, gingerly massaging the spots you had abused. 

"Maybe I am a little obsessed," you admitted, pulling his shirt back up, covering up as many of the bites as you could, “but you're just so...” Still, you could see them peeking over his collar, satisfaction filling you at the thought of what you had done.

“So what?” He challenged, a knowing look in his eyes as you both got closer, nose to nose.

A knock interrupted the both of you, forcing you away from him, eyes on the door as the doorknob jiggled.

“Chan?” He also turned around, a wide eyed look on his face as the knocks on the door started again.

“Who is it?” He forced out, narrowing his eyes at you as you stifled your fit of laughter at his peeved expression.

“Oh I do wonder, who else could it ever be?” The voice outside deadpanned, and you could almost imagine the bored look on the face of Chan's manager, Minho. 

“What is it?” A brief pause, and he sighed. “The photographer wants you to come and review the photos so you can pick which ones you like most for the campaign. Finish up whatever weird shit you’re up to and come out.”

His footsteps led away from the door, and you looked at Chan.

“Now look at what you’ve done!” He gave you a slight stink eye, hand unconsciously reaching up to his neck. “How am i going to go out and explain this?”

“Hey! Don’t look at me like that, you agreed to it!” You exclaimed, yelping as he pulled you closer to him.

“You’re lucky I find your antics cute,” Chan chuckled, his fingers tracing over your face before suddenly gripping it.

“H-hey!” You stuttered, blanking as he pulled you flush against him, kissing you deeper than before. His teeth scraped against your bottom lip and he bit down gently, earning a surprised yelp from you. You grumbled at the sudden lack of contact as he pulled away, pulling you off him before you’d realized it in your blind struggle to get him back in your grasp.

"Fine, leave me here all alone," You mumbled, a mischievous glint still lingering in your eyes, "I guess I'll just have to entertain myself until you get back.”

“If you behave yourself, I might be back sooner than you imagine.” 

You huffed, rolling your eyes at him.

“Fine, I hope you enjoy running around looking like you got burnt on the neck.”

“Acting like you weren’t the one to do this to me baby.”

[redvexillum]

A/N: I didn't anticipate writing a Vox x Reader story (much less a raunchy, BDSM theme smut). But, I needed to get this idea out of my head so I can focus on my request and my other stories. So, here we are. Also, I've noticed there is a distressingly low number of PURE Vox x Reader stories, so I wanted to contribute to the database.

Though, I apologize if my version of Vox is lacking in any way. I have made many creative liberties with my head canon version of him.

Inspired by this post/conversation with the lovely miss @redfoxwritesstuff

07.09.24 - Now that I know where I'm going with this story, I have changed the title from [Short Fuse] to Signal.

SUMMARY: You royally pissed someone off because you were receiving anonymous hate emails for the past fifteen years. How incredibly petty and...entertaining. At first, you decided to ignore them but as their hate comments got increasingly creative, the more you couldn't help but add oil to the burning, passionate flame of their hatred towards you.

Until one day, the mysterious anonymous hater (probably) accidentally revealed themselves to be the one and only TV demon, an Overlord and CEO of everything technological and modern.

WARNING/TAGS: f!reader, toxic relationship, enemies to f*ck buddies to something indescribable, dom/sub undertone, sub!Vox, dom!reader, reader is a responsible dom, Vox takes a lot of L's but he secretly enjoys it, dual POV, Vox tries to be hip but ends up being a boomer, Reader is sexually liberal and confident, Vox is the brattiest sub you will ever find, kind of fluff if your squint

“Hello, my Sexy Peeps! How are you doing on this hellish day?” A melodious burst of laughter chimed from Vox’s phone. He took a dramatic sip from his coffee, savouring the rich, dark brew, and settled into his plush armchair, preparing to lose himself in her latest video.  

“Today, I thought I’d mix things up a bit due to a very popular request!” She continued and leaned forward in front of the camera, giving Vox a generous view of her cleavage. He approved her outfit choice for today, a tight-fitting cyan blue tank top with a plunging v-neckline.  

But aside from her attire, he was interested by her supposedly “new” content. He didn’t know she took requests from her viewers. Intrigued, he arched an eyebrow, setting his cup down on the side table and leaning his face closer to his phone.  

The newest online sensation on VoxTube was about to begin. This girl had seemingly materialized out of nowhere, drawing tens of thousands of views and subscribers to her channel. Her retention rates were astoundingly high for content so banal and ordinary. Initially, Vox had suspected his network had been hacked.  

He still couldn’t quite grasp how in seven layers of Hell she had managed to manipulate the algorithm with her simple videos. All she did was try the newest foods around the Pentagram and review random merchandise in a phenomenon called “unboxing.” 

His gaze inevitably wandered to the deep trench of cleavage she prominently displayed. He scoffed. He’d seen better. After all, his partner controlled the porn industry in Hell.  

Yet, that didn’t stop him from pausing her video sometimes, openly staring at her chest for a few seconds… or minutes…or maybe he may have saved a couple (several) screenshots of her video and her photos from her Sinstagram account. Perhaps he might have even saved some of her more salacious-looking photos on his internal hard drive for private viewing. 

All for research, of course.  

“Now, I know there’s this series – the longest-running series in all of Hell…” she trailed off, her plump, pretty lips curling into a mischievous smirk.  

Vox straightened in his chair, feeling the first flutter of excitement in his chest. Could it be? Was she going to mention his most prized project, “Yeah, I Fucked Your Sister, So What?!” for free?  

Excitement surged within him, a giddy thrill that this lame, greenhorn, no-name nobody was about to mention his series to her 2.5 million (and growing) viewers.  

“Guys, guys, guys,” she laughed, raising her perfectly manicured hands in the air as if in surrender. “I watched the first season and wow–” 

Vox pressed his thighs together, waiting with bated breath for what he hoped would be a glowing review. Perhaps he should contact her, reach out, sponsor her like all the tiny, insignificant, worthless, businesses were doing.  

“I gotta tell you,” She shrugged, raised her immaculate trimmed brow, and with a hearty guffaw, said, “it’s pretty mid.” 

Disbelief washed over him as he stared at the screen. Instinctively, Vox paused the video, staring at the freeze-frame image of her with a large smile dancing across her lips.  

Mid? Mid? What the fuck did mid even mean? 

Scrutinizing the word in his mind, he thought maybe she had given his series an average score. Average. He could work with average. But judging from the comments filled with those annoying crying laughing emojis and agreement that it was bad, he realized it was another piece of slang from this decade that he somehow missed.  

Power surged through his head as his mind dove into the database, and he opened his trusty Urban Hell Dictionary. 

The definition of Mid was… 

Below average. 

Not good. 

Mediocre.  

Boring.  

“WHHHHAT?” He roared, his voice glitching in between the long-drawn-out word. Springing up from his chair, he picked up his mug before hurling it against the polished floor. It shattered into a cascade of jagged pieces, their sharp lines reminiscent of crooked, mocking smiles. The hot coffee splashed onto the hem of his pants, its sudden heat mirroring the fury rising within him.  

Memories surged through him, back to when he was alive, back when they cancelled him for not being innovative enough, for not being entertaining enough, for being… 

Being…. 

Boring.  

His eyes twitched, electricity crackled and jolted up in arcs across the surface of his head before fizzling out at the points of the antennas from his hat.  

He should kill her. Get Val to make her disappear or force her into working at his porn studio. How dare she call the fruits of his labour…b-bo-… He seethed, unable to even say the damn, blasted word.  

Vox thought of a thousand ways to torment her, relishing the idea of making her cry with her below-average, not good, mediocre, BORING looking face. Anger surged, boiled, in his veins, and he did what he knew was the best course of action when faced with this unprecedented insult.  

After all, with VoxTek, he had an image to keep of being on the side of the lowly Sinners. He chuckled, forced, but chuckled, nonetheless. It would smear his good image to go after some small, nobody of a Sinner. After all, he was an Overlord and the CEO of the largest corporation in all the five fucking points of the Pentagram.  

She was going to get so cancelled.  

That he would make sure of.  

Humming a random, jaunty little tune, you shut off the ring light and closed your laptop. Stretching your back, you sighed in satisfaction as your bones gave a gratifying crack. You giggled at some comments from your review of the popular series, “Yeah, I Fucked Your Sister, So What?!”  

There were passionate defences claiming the series was a work of art, which was far-reaching at best. It was mildly entertaining enough to watch while you painted your nails. Seriously, the show looked like it was produced for the audience in the 1950s.  

You were the first influencer to give a poor rating to the TV series, and being first meant more controversy, more views, and more money from sponsorships as you rose to the trending list once again.  

Damn, gaming the system was the best. Truly, Hell was way behind its time compared to what people did for views back when you were alive.  

Following your routine, you washed away the makeup, changed from your tight-fitting clothes into a loose T-shirt and sweatpants, and laid on your king-sized bed that was far too big for one person. Staring up at the ceiling, you were surrounded by the void of your loneliness.  

You should…go out and fuck someone.  

Preferably, someone related to the entertainment industry. All that juicy gossip about your newest fling always raked in views and clicks.  

But the idea fizzled and died as you thought about having to play the submissive role, feeding their giant egos to compensate for their shit-sized cocks. You considered visiting the BDSM club, but influential people were rarely found out in the open in those shops. There was probably a private club that you weren’t invited to…yet.  

Vain.

Empty.

Nothing.  

It didn’t change much, did it? Whether you were alive or damned.  

Everything about your life was the same.  

Sitting up, you grabbed your phone and started to scroll through Voxazon, frivolously spending thousands of Hell bucks on useless crap.  

Retail therapy.  

The tried-and-true method to stave off depression and apathy.  

You were ready for that dopamine hit as you read through the reviews of the latest dildo models, your lips pulling into a sly smirk at all the new features of VoxTek’s newest sex toy.  

A chime resounded from your phone – a notification from your personal email. Your brows raised as the sender was from anonymous666@hellmail.com 

Confused, you opened the email, wincing at the possibility of infecting your device with a virus. But that thought quickly vanished as you read the email’s content.  

Subject: (no subject)  Dear Bitch,   Retract that fucking review about “Yeah, I Fucked Your Sister, So What?!” from your video today, or you will regret it.   Furthermore, you have a “mid” face, and so are your boobs. Your boobs are super fucking mid. You probably get MORE views if you actually covered your boobs because that’s how MID they are.   And all your videos are MID. Especially the one you posted on July 7, 20XX, where you reviewed the Hellover drink. The one where you wore that shitty neon green tank top, which, by the way, is also fucking MID.   Anyway, this is my FIRST and LAST warning.   Fuck you.   P.S. Seriously. Fuck you.

Your eyes slowly blinked, once, twice, before a hearty, genuine laugh erupted from you. Oh my God. Did this prick actually hack your account to get your personal email to send such a shitty, lame-ass message? 

Breaths coming out in short, uneven huffs, you rolled over on your bed from side to side, clutching your stomach. Tears formed in the corners of your eyes from laughing so hard. You hadn’t laughed this genuinely since you fell to Hell.  

As your eyes traced over the words of their message, you laughed out loud again. It looked like you had a butt-hurt superfan.  

Humming, you rolled over onto your stomach and kicked your feet idly as you stared at the message. “Thanks for the laugh, virgin prick,” you whispered, planting a loud smooch on your cellphone screen. “Annnnd, delete!” Your index finger daintily tapped the trash can icon.  

Now, back to the task at hand. You debated between getting the glittery pink dildo or the two prong dildo. Tilting your head, you decided you deserved a treat, so you ordered both. 

As you were purchasing more random crap, your eyes glazed over, your mind fervently thinking of what to say for your next season review for that TV series. Just then, an annoying ad popped up – of course, from VoxTek – promoting their shitty Cobra vibrator. Seriously, you tried it, and it did nothing for you.  

An idea rapidly formed, growing until you jumped out of bed and ran to your laptop. No one had truly (and honestly) reviewed some of VoxTek’s terrible sex toys yet. In fact, you noticed that every single review for their sex toy line had glowing five-star ratings.  

Now, some of their toys were outstanding, making you come so hard until you were sobbing, soaking your underwear from your release. But that was one out of every five toys you purchased. Like all massive corporations, VoxTek was clearly buying reviews, giving themselves perfect scores.  

Perhaps it was time to change that. 

Your review of the series and the anonymous hate message were soon quickly forgotten. This was your chance to shake things up, to give the unfiltered, raw truth that your viewers craved.  

With a determined glint in your eyes, you started drafting your next video script. This was going to be huge, bigger than Jerry’s dick from last week, that was for sure.  

NEXT ->

💠 MASTERLIST 💠

[saturniandragon]

Adra's Project Wingman In-Depth Review: Per Mission Experience and Commentary

(Caution: extremely long read. Please have snacks ready)

Project Wingman! Or so I've heard it more described as "a love letter to the Ace Combat franchise." Another arcade flight action shooter game similar to Ace Combat, and if I remember rightly, designed and developed by Ace Combat fans. Again I've spent years and years avoiding spoilers, although inevitably I began hearing a few things about it; it's like Ace Combat, it's set in alternate history, you can carry up to 4(!) different types of ordnance, and it's orange. So I guess like NFS Most Wanted (2005). Like Ace Combat 7 of course, I'm playing with my Xbox controller.

Which brings me to the first... quirk of the game. The menu interface. You control a cursor on the screen with your left thumbstick, and you have to carefully position it to the menu buttons that you want to access. The left thumbstick doesn't cycle through the menu buttons, you have to control a cursor with your joystick. Which I find to be a little on the negative side and I decided to just use my mouse to navigate the menu. Makes me wonder if this is a side effect of Project Wingman being developed as a PC game first and console second.

The last time I was met with this kind of UI controls was in the 2019 game "Observation."

However I am very impressed that the menu background isn't just a static image or a repeated video. It looks like a real time 3D rendered scene with planes flying above the treeline. Also what looks like a massive airship or a mothership trailing slowly across the sky. My hype level is up by 3 notches. I can't wait to start playing.

No fancy animation or a CGI video as the intro. Just a text that briefly tells the story about the game's world. Very much like David Szymanski's "Iron Lung" game. Seeing Sector D2 is not a massive game studio and just an indie developer, it's perfectly fine. And what I learned is that Project Wingman's universe is alternate history Earth that experienced some kind of massive natural disaster or calamity that changed the world forever, and new nations start to rise from the ashes. The game takes place 400 years after the event.

First briefing screen. Wow this orange tint really reminds me of Ace Combat Zero briefing screen. And I can also see the map of the Project Wingman world in the background. The continent of America has changed, not dramatically, you can see the general shape of the continent, but the west shoreline has practically split off from the rest of the continent. And a glimpse of what used to be Japan, China, Philippines and Indonesia, now reduced to just a few main islands, presumably the remains of the cataclysm mentioned earlier.

Apparently our protag is a mercenary pilot who goes by the name Monarch (as in monarch butterfly, I assume), who is a part of Hitman team, under the mercenary organization known as Sicario. And our client is the Federation? Is that a country, or a union like the one in COD Ghosts? Either way it brings me back to Cipher and Pixy, who were also merc pilots. In PW, apparently we're fighting a group of pirate pilots.

First mission, destroy some kind of research material that was deemed unsafe and fell into a group of merc pirates. A few ground targets, ships, and a few air targets. Alright, no big deal. My Ace Combat experience is more than enough for this.

I'm actually impressed with the voice acting. I've heard how difficult it is to voice act in a game or a movie that doesn't sound too cringey or too monotone. The guy doing the briefing actually does sound like he's done it probably a thousand times. I wonder if they hired a professional VA or just someone from the internal dev team.

Plane hangar. They give you 2 starter planes to choose. A T-21 (apparently a trainer plane that resembles MiG-21), and T/F-4 (a trainer plane that resembles F-4). I was going to use the Fishbed but the Phantom has slightly better stats, even though I'm bored with Phantoms, so I chose it. UGBL as secondary weapon, pretty standard.

First flight. Operation Red Current. AWACS Galaxy on station and OH MY GOD I HAVE A WIZZO. AND SHE HAS DIALOGUE LINES. The last time I had a wizzo was Ace Combat 2, but he just had generic repeating dialogues like missile lock/alert and stall warning. Your plane does form vapor clouds at Mach 1, something missing from AC7, so I loved that. Once again, for a small dev team, the voice acting is well done.

First set of ground TGTs clear. Ronin moving in. "Cordium" cargo? Never heard that before. They say it's too unstable, Federation orders to just clear it BOOM. MASSIVE EXPLOSION like an FAEB just went off. Mission complete, question mark? Another flight called Master Goose comes in the AO, flashing as friendlies. I don't really trust this but hey, I'm just a merc, not paid to ask questions.

If they turn out to be a fake squadron like the 8492nd, I'm gonna be... Well I don't know what I'm gonna be.

And there's a civil war in the Americas. Country of Cascadia being invaded by the Fed for natural resources. Our client is Cascadian Air Force now I guess. Is this like Belka trying to annex Ustio in AC0?

You know what, I'm too excited to have a wizzo. I'm gonna get another Phantom that isn't a Phantom (F/E-4). Big surprise, all of the SP weapons are available for use right away, no need to buy them separately. I like this game already.

Can I just say the explosions in PW from STDMs are so dramatic. Way more dramatic than AC7, it's like they hired Michael Bay. Not a bad thing though, it's giving PW identity. So it's not just a "Ace Combat we have at home"

Mission 2, all going well, fighting Fed border patrols until a massive airship came practically out of nowhere. At least this one doesn't have drones, just SK.27s and F/C-15s. A couple MLAAs later and it's down, but then no explanation as to what we just shot down. Oh well, at least we're with Cascadian AF now.

Mission 3. Rowsdower AFB. Once belonged to Cascadia now seized by the Fed on their conquest to expand their military (ala Belka), we're on a mission to take it back. Ooh, new aircraft for purchase. SV-37. I genuinely thought I unlocked a Flanker early in the game but it's just the Swedish dorito (Viggen). And it has MLAGs, if MLAA is Multi Lock Air to Air then I guess MLAG is this game's version of 4AGM. Only single seat though, I still want to hear more of Prez's dialogues. Maybe later.

Crosstalk squadron appeared, 5 Super Hornets. Grun Squadron flashbacks from Zero, anyone? Oooooh there's a health bar on the bottom of the screen for each enemy craft. I loved it. Wasn't much hassle fighting them, and we landed in Rowsdower.

Honestly I'm kind of impressed that as a band of pilot mercs, we have our own AWACS. Anyway next mission, aid Cascadian national guards from being overwhelmed by the Feds.

Two new aircrafts. CR.105 and SK.25U. I thought CR.105 is a Foxbat at first but it's delta wing design with no canards or tail surfaces. But its speed rating is off the rails, so I guess partly inspired by the Foxbat.

I'm buying SK.25U for Mission 4. Two seats and a boat load of A2G hardpoints. I sure hope there isn't any mission update where we suddenly have to fight an entire air force! (Thank fuck there isn't)

Really this game has the Frogfoot when Ace Combat 7 doesn't? Come on PA.

Next mission, Cascadian capital of Presidia. The Feds have taken over the city. Cover retreat of Cascadian armed forces. Multirole mission with tendency towards A2A. MG-31 and F/C-16 now available for purchase. Not sure if I trust a flying brick with wings for this mission, so Viper time. Guess I have to leave out Prez for this one.

Mission 5, over Presidia. WOW THIS CITY IS SO COOL with all the low hanging clouds. Though what's with all the needle towers/structures all over the city?

Thought we were done but the Feds sent out not just one or two other massive airships but FIVE of them to try and keep Presidia in their hands. I thought I shot all of them down but Mission Over text?? Did I fail??

Debriefing says Status: Success but Stardust said Presidia fell anyway. I guess it's supposed to be that way.

So far into this game, I'm developing the sense that Project Wingman is largely inspired by the classic PS2 AC titles (aka The Holy Trinity), I guess more towards Zero. The orange tint, no checkpoint system, the absence of aircraft tree, aircraft parts, merc pilot protagonist, but they also incorporate some modern QoL features like flares.

I think I would appreciate something present in AC but not present in PW; lock range indicator. You know the HUD in AC, just to right side of the pitch ladder, is a slider with a chevron that indicates the distance required for your ordnance to lock.

Mission 6, attack the Feds from the other front by crippling their energy production sites at Apodock Fracture, apparently in Yellowstone. Also they've been hunting for some material called cordium? Is that what caused the massive explosion in the first mission?

Two new aircrafts, Super Tomcat and Fulcrum! Two of my favorite aircrafts. But I had to choose the Tomcat because I miss Prez (cmon man I've been all alone in Ace Combat for years). Fucking hell it's expensive though. Better be worth it.

Yep they're hunting for cordium. We're ordered to destroy their containers. Fucking hell the SAMs in this mission are fierce, I got hit 3 times and was down to 23 health. And two more of those fucking Fed airships?? Just how many of these things are there??

Alright, mission completed. Almost. New blips on the radar, VX-23s and SK.37s. Federation Peacekeepers. Engagement Not Advised written in large text on my screen. I hammered the throttle and fly just meters away above the ground to avoid missiles and head to the return line. Reminiscent of the first time you face Yellow Squadron in AC04.

Crimson Squadron. Fed's top ace in Cascadia.

(I learned late that you have infinite flares in this game)

Mission 7. Cascadian Coast Guard seized a Fed battleship/cruiser off the coast of Cascadia. Just me and Hitman 3 this time. We're to provide air support although I kinda don't want to fly the SK.25U just to have its LASM. New aircraft for purchase called the... Accipiter. Whatever the hell that means. Apparently based on the Harrier. Not enough cash to purchase. Back to the Tomcat.

Think I forgot to read the weather report for this mission because it's stormy as fuck and the clouds are violent. I'm not sure who has the bigger balls to fly through such extreme turbulence, me or Monarch. It's actually very scary from cockpit view, everything shaking up around you and you hear the creeking and clanking from the plane's aluminum panels like they're going to break off at any moment. Oh well it's just an anti ship mission with a couple of air targets THE FED SHIPS HAVE RAILGUNS ON THEM WHY AM I FIGHTING MINI STONEHENGE AT SEA

Ok that's over now. New mission that's purely air to air mission. Take down Fed logistic planes while also avoiding shooting down civilian airliners. Weather cloudy. Two new aircrafts, Super Hornet-C and Flanker-B. But I'm still having way too much fun in my F/D-14.

Also I just learned that the seemingly random clicking noises when I'm flying is just a noise indicator of my missiles fully reloaded.

Mission 8, Briggs Mountain Range. Wait why is that civilian airliner the same as the Fed airship that I've downed multiple times before?

Doesn't matter. STDMs, HVSMs and MLAAs. One by one shooting down Fed Globemasters. Conservative with MLAA use because I totally didn't restart this mission because I accidentally shot down a civilian airliner. Then the true airship arrives. Airship Gladeus with two F/S-15s. The fucking AAM pods on the Gladeus are a nightmare to hit tbh, but mission done. More importantly no civilian casualties.

But I begin wondering, is there like multiple paths in this game like Ace Combat Zero? Like Knight, Soldier and Merc paths that are determined by whether you shoot N.TGTs or not. That's my goal for my second playthrough.

Mission 9. Raver mountains. Covert mission to take out SAM sites so we can push without losing planes. F/C-15 is now available for purchase.

But you know what, let's take the Accipiter for a spin. What was the last Ace Combat game that lets you fly a Harrier? None. Well, Assault Horizon, but that's not a true AC game. Woah, what is this, CGP? A shotgun gun pod?? Flechette rounds?? I don't fucking know how it works but I wanna try that shit out.

Alright, near CIWS units. Time to try CGPs, and... it's disappointing. Although I think my expectations were a bit too high. Well at least they didn't lie about it being a short range weapon.

And of course I did the tunnel runs in this place to destroy the containers. I'm an Ace Combat vet after all, tunnel runs are my bread and butter.

Mission 10, now the real deal. Solana Comms Array and the adjacent airbase... without Cascadian air force to help us. It's alright I guess, Monarch is already a one man army as he is. Or one man air force.

But I'm this far into the game and I still haven't found Project Wingman's equivalent of QAAMs. Maybe there will be a "HASM" (High Agility Standard Missile) or something. I guess it's time to try the Eagle for a spin.

And my thoughts? So worth buying the Eagle. Missed out on Prez, but when you attach second and third slots with MLAAs, you get 6AAMs in game. Awesome stuff. Fed is crumbling.

Mission 11, Bering Strait. Another purely A2A mission. The most expansive A2A battle ever committed, he says? We'll see to that WHOAA THIS IS LIKE THE MAYHEM MISSION FROM ACE COMBAT ZERO ON STEROIDS

And of course Crimson squadron shows up with a fuck ton of reinforcements. Totally reminding me of Schwarze squadron battle. But I'm not going down without a fight.

55 fighters, 3 SK.37s and 2 VX-23s downed by one humble F/D-14. I tried getting a close look at a VX-23 but couldn't make out what it resembles. My best guess is that it's probably something like Chengdu J-20 but couldn't see the fine details. Is there like a PSM mechanic in this game because those guys were pulling 90 Gs every now and then

Feds have issued retreat. Crimson 1 insists on staying, Crystal Kingdom order stands. Eventually Crimson obeys, and retreats the whole squadron.

If anything Ace Combat or movies have taught me, I predict Crimson is going to go berserk within the Feds. He's gonna think the Fed is too weak and just holding him back, he's gonna take Federation's most outrageous aircraft and weapon and use them to set a personal score with Monarch. I'm calling it.

I love Prez's reaction after Crimson retreated. Like yeah bitch, you better fucking run! I love her.

Alright, mission 12. Feds is absolutely crumbling after their airforce got decimated by Hitman. Multirole mission with heavy tendency towards A2A. Something about oil rigs facilities at sea.

It's railguns again, the same one that Fed ships were firing at me on previous mission with the Eminent Domain. Hitman 3 said something, why is this rig more heavily guarded than the comms array?

Mission update came up. Unknown target marked on my HUD, but I'm not firing yet. I fly close to the unknown to try get a visual but it's too damn dark to see anything, even with gibbous moon. Then something happened.

"Project Wingman is away."

What the fuck is that?? Project Wingman?? Something rapid just took off from one of the oil rigs. It's way too dark on my screen to see whatever it is, but it's roughly triangular AND IT'S SHOOTING RAILGUNS BACKWARDS AT ME WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK IS THIS THING

Apparently piloted by another merc named Frost? Monarch shot it down with HISMs and STDMs. Frost ejected but said something about releasing data pod. I suspect this is a Federation superweapon undergoing research. That will explain the amount of AA defenses all around it although of course the game's debriefing doesn't tell me anything.

Mission 13. There's a new Fed superweapon, an airship fleet by the name of Task Force 1. It's resting in a port, we're to destroy it before it's unleashing hell, I suspect. Although something about Kingdom of Sawaiiki, one of Fed's states, will probably get in the way.

Maybe I should expect neutral/N.TGTs.

Two new aircrafts. F/S-15 and... what the hell is this? "Chimera"? At the front it resembles Su-57 nose, but the way the wing blends into the body is a bit like F-16XL's cranked delta wing, and it also has a V tail like YF-23 (maybe that's why it's called Chimera). And it's 285k to purchase, I don't even have 100k credits. Why is this available to purchase right now?

Whichever the case I can't buy either of them. I'm going with the F/C-15, I'm gonna need its MLAG.

I think this mission is where the game can do with some optimization, because my frame rate was down from 80+ to 40 near the docks where there are a fuck ton of targets. But I don't want to compare this to Ace Combat 7 because this is a game from an indie developer. I'm sure they did what they could for optimization, and I'm not gonna blame them.

Mission itself was pretty standard. Nothing super interesting although the part where Hitman 2 had to radio out a long announcement to Kingdom of Sawaiiki that we have no beef with them, and telling Galaxy afterwards that it costs "2 bucks per word" is pretty funny. I love these conversations.

Mission 14. Grimwood coast, provide CAS for ground troops and prevent Feds from regrouping. But expect bad visibility he says from the forest fire nearby. I'm gonna gamble and take the SK.25U.

Oh shit, I guess we're working with firefighters as well now. I hope I don't have to protect them at some point because I'm essentially flying a tank. That has 40mm/65mm HE ammo for its main gun.

I forgot to say but the MLAGs in this game are phenomenal. The multilock ability of a 4AGM and the range of an LAGM? Slow reload speed but I'm sold. Who needs an A-10 anyway right

Feds in Grimwood have surrendered. They burned the forests for nothing. Also I keep hearing allies calling Monarch "The Crown" now, and in earlier sorties I also hear something along the lines of "how dare you take the name of a king as your own", "not all kings are just."

I'm developing the feeling that this game is fantasy medieval action adventure but with jets and airships instead of swords and magic. No hard feelings on that, I'm a huge fan of The Elder Scrolls series. So I'm looking forward to see how much this game plays into the mythological/medieval theme. Maybe like Ace Combat Zero, with how Cipher and Pixy did the aerial equivalent of jousting? We'll see.

Also there's this level of detail and touch of realism, that I think has never been done in Ace Combat before. When an enemy jet whizzes past you above Mach 1, you can actually hear the sonic boom from their wake. That's awesome.

Mission 15, Cascadian city of Prospero, the largest trade center apparently. Get rid of its air superiority elements and secure the airport. SK.37 is now available for purchase, yet I'm still under the required price for it.

I do have to comment on the way planes are painted in PW, or at least the default skins that you use. It's like plastidipped or cerakoted or something, like how guns are these days. Nothing really spells practical camouflage/camo pattern. But hey, maybe that's just how Monarch wants to look in the skies.

Liberate Prospero they say but they didn't say the Feds would be so desperate that they would LAUNCH 50 NUCLEAR CRUISE MISSILES JUST TO PREVENT CASCADIA FROM GETTING TO PROSPERO. THEY JUST BELKAN'D THE SHIT OUT OF THIS CITY. DID THEY JUST OPEN UP A VOLCANO FROM THE GROUND?

Hitman 3 just said Calamity. Is this what happened 400 years ago before the events of this game?

Fucking hell.

Mission 16, instant continuation from previous flight. Only me, Prez, Diplomat, Comic and Galaxy now. No idea if anyone else is alive. Flew over Rowsdower, no response.

Fuck, new blips on radar. It's the merc Frost from earlier. AND MASTER GOOSE FROM MISSION 1. I FUCKING KNEW THEY SHOWED UP TOO CONVENIENTLY

"You fired up? Come shoot me down." Yeah bitch I'll shoot you down in that fancy bitchass superplane you're flying. And don't you dare copy my boy Pixy's line from Ace Combat Zero.

(Just kidding, I love the devs for having her voice actor say that)

Fucking hell, I thought a swarm of MQ-101 drones was bad, but I never thought I'd be on the receiving end of an ADMM where each individual missile is a QAAM.

Stardust again. Contract to fulfill you say? Fuck you man, there's nothing else out there now. Everyone's got our number, even Diplomat and Comic's real name. Sicario is only 4 man band now, 5 if you count Prez.

Kaiser seems convinced after Stardust offered something to us. Whatever that is. Meanwhile I guess we're regrouping on an abandoned highway as a makeshift base.

2 months later.

Mission 17. Brite Fortress. One of the safe havens outside the whatever the fuck is happening out there.

I sold my Harrier to get some cash back. I'm done with the Super Tomcat. It's time for SK.37. It's only got AA hardpoints but I need to fly something else. Oh and an MGP. I've never used MGP in Ace Combat before but I'm gonna try this one.

Woah, what is this? AOA limiter? Replaces flares? Doesn't say what it is.

Alright, Brite Fortress. Railguns and airships as usual. At this point I've been desensitized to them, because I learn that the Feds is just Belka/Erusea hybrid. As in, a superweapon maniac.

Aw shit, they have a massive tank/train/land cruiser. This thing doesn't have any A2G weapons, but it has MGP. 4 of them. And AOA limiter, more like AOA unlimiter. Let's you pull off PSM-esque move while holding down L3 and turning sharp. I like it though, it replaces your flares but it doesn't restrict you to low speeds and a complicated QTE like Ace Combat 7, and you can perform it anytime as long as the indicator is ready.

Mission 18. Aw shit, we're back to Prospero now? I really don't want to.

Yeah, figured. Crimson showed up again. VX-23s and SK.37s again. But now I can at least match their crazy AOA maneuvers.

My first try I nailed AOA limiter module pretty quickly. If used right it's essentially a "teleport to enemy's 6" button. Well I didn't use it right. Got shot down.

My second try. If Crimson is calling it personal then so will I. I will spam this AOA limiter if I have to. Even Diplomat is absolutely fed up with Crimson's shit, telling him to shut the fuck up and turning off his radio. Learned that, other than spamming AOA, you have to firewall the throttle, make sure your speed never goes below Mach 1 even when turning. Got hit by a missile once, but this time I downed them. All 8 of them.

Crimson laughing maniacally on the radio as his plane falls. What a waste of pilot, Comic, I agree. But I'm feeling that won't be the last.

Mission 19, back to Presidia. Take out Federation's naval force.

VX-23 is now available for purchase. It is like Chengdu J-20/Lockheed F-22 hybrid. Well, more like F-22 with the wings swapped positions. Can't buy this one either even if I sell my SK.37. And I love this thing already because of its AOA limiter.

Naval force destroyed. Presidia is next.

Mission 20. Now I could really sell my SK.37 now to get the VX-23, I wonder if I should do that...

Fuck it. Yolo.

Presidia is liberated. Feds are surrendering. War is over. And then...

"KINGS"

....

No.

No, Sector D2. Please, don't.

Don't make Crimson 1 pull a Pixy on me for the ultimate mission.

I called it earlier. He's gone off the rails. He took the Fed's superplane and nuked everyone in Presidia with it except Monarch. Probably intentionally, to set a personal score with me.

But I'm not scared. Well, until he fired railguns on all directions, launched Project Wingman's equivalent of ADMM, and released force fields ala Arsenal Bird/Alicorn. When I thought this game would be like Ace Combat, I didn't think it would be "Ace Combat, but 150% more fucked up."

I employed the similar strat from before. Lock the third person camera at his plane, firewall the throttle up to Mach 2 and spam the AOA limiter. He's got 3 health bars in that superplane that's probably powered by cordium. If previous missions didn't emphasize on how orange this game is, well, this final showdown does.

Everything is orange. The skies, the ground, the sun, the missiles, the railgun trails, my HUD, half the time I couldn't tell if my missiles hit him or not because my interface was loaded with directional missile proximity indicators. Thank fuck the health bar is still perfectly readable.

"You signed this deal a long time ago." WELL I DIDN'T SIGN UP TO FIGHT YOU SPECIFICALLY NOW DID I. But you've decided that it's personal so bitch, COME THE FUCK AT ME.

"I'm Cascadian. You think I take joy in killing my own countrymen?" SO WHY THE FUCK DID YOU DO IT IN THE FIRST PLACE. YOU LET YOUR OWN PRIDE CONSUME YOU AND THOUGHT THEY'RE ACCEPTABLE LOSSES IN YOUR OWN PERSONAL BEEF WITH ME. FUCK YOU.

I danced with him in the skies for probably a good 15 to 20 minutes just trying to land one or two hits on him. A deadly aerial dance that involves jet fuel, multi lock missiles and nuclear railguns.

Three health bars depleted. My camera is still locked onto his PW.MK1.

"No, not yet..."

Then all my HUD element disappears.

He's not dead yet. Two health bars now on the bottom of the screen, one for Hitman 1 and one for Crimson 1. Fuck, I have to fight him again. I grazed my VX-23 on the railgun trail and took some damage. But I still have my wings. I can still fly.

Another 10 minutes of fighting. I'm gonna fucking joust him now like Pixy. Dozens of STDMs, hundreds of railgun projectiles and thousands of 20mm Vulcan rounds.

His last health bar is depleted.

...

But my camera is still locked onto his plane. The corpse of his PW.MK1 flailing through the clouds and trailing flames.

Why am I not seeing a chute?!

"Monarch..."

God damn it, Crimson, eject! Eject now!

"When you hear the thunder..."

There's no time for speeches, damn it! Eject!

"When the storm comes for you..."

Dying will not solve anything! Fucking punch out, god damn it!

"Remember me."

...

But he was a fighter pilot to the end.

Remember him, Monarch.

Because it's just you left.

No one else. No Prez, Galaxy, Diplomat, Comic,

It's just you.

As a final send off, I leveled out my VX-23 to the horizon, pointing towards the sun, and fly off into the distance.

Contract completed.

---

Project Wingman, completed. Wow. What a game.

The story, the gameplay, the graphics, the sounds, voices, visuals, everything.

I can tell it's all been made with passion and love. And it really is... a love letter to the Ace Combat franchise.

It may as well be an Ace Combat game on its own.

I never mentioned it, but the OST is also phenomenal. Especially on Mission 11. On par with Ace Combat. Maybe even better, for an indie game. Especially the credit song, the leitmotif that's been playing throughout the game since Presidia. I'm calling it Monarch's theme.

Wow, just wow. I nearly shed a tear.

You know I once read a quote, I don't remember if it was from this game or something else, but

War doesn't decide who is right.

Only who is left.

10/10. Phenomenal game. Sector D2, you are legends. Absolute fucking legends, you hear?

There are so many people backing this game on Kickstarter, on the order of hundreds. Maybe thousands. All their names are in the credits.

And it was all so worth the money you all have invested in the development of Project Wingman.

And for me, it was worth the money I spent on buying this game.

Enjoy your victory while it lasts, Monarch.

You may not have a throne, or anything left in your world.

But you are the king.

As for me, I'm gonna play the game again and try to understand the lore better. It seems that I have a tendency to hyperfocus on the task/quest/gameplay at hand. Probably gonna turn down the bgm and sfx a little bit so I can hear dialogues better.

[jbuffyangel]

Best Friends: Arrow 1x19 Review (Unfinished Business)

“Unfinished Business” takes a hard look at Oliver’s friendships with Tommy and Diggle, as one relationship crumbles and the other finds stronger footing – after a few missteps.

Prepare yourselves. I might write about the flashbacks this week because Shado provided an information download which was sorely needed.

Let’s dig in…

Oliver and Tommy

Oliver revealed his true identity to Tommy three episodes ago and it feels like their friendship has been a bomb waiting to explode ever since. A girl who partied at Verdant dies from a Vertigo overdose, which puts Quentin hot on Tommy’s trail and Oliver hot on The Count’s. This poor girl sadly is the catalyst for the explosion between Tommy and Oliver we’ve been waiting for.

The “evidence” that convinces Quentin Tommy is dealing Vertigo isn’t exactly irrefutable. The girl texted Tommy before she died, which Tommy easily explains because he receives texts from hundreds of people every night trying to get into the club. Her request for a “hook up” is not for Vertigo as Quentin believes.

The second piece of evidence raises the eyebrows, but Tommy has an explanation – albeit a shady one. There is ten thousand dollars missing from Verdant’s operating budget. Quentin believes Tommy used it to buy Vertigo, but he used it to bribe the zoning commissioner into skipping their inspection. Bribery isn’t great, but it’s a far lesser crime than dealing a deadly drug. L*urel could drive a truck through all that room for reasonable doubt.

This episode is another Merlance highpoint. L*urel believed in Tommy one hundred percent and he called her baby. Just leave me to my grave to die a happy woman.

After Tommy refuses Quentin entry into Verdant without a warrant, the detective comes back with one and it leads to a heart stopping moment. He wants to specifically look at the sub level not listed on the inspection’s floor plans. Ever the dutiful detective, Lance pulled the county records and knows it exists.

In my mind, I know this is not the way Oliver’s vigilante hideaway is getting discovered, but the panic in Oliver’s eyes always sends me to Stressville USA. Especially when he types the code!!! He’s shooting those panicked looks at Tommy who is as cool as a cucumber.

Quentin enters the The Hood's bunker and there’s no bunker! How Tommy moved all that equipment and replaced it with bottles of booze I will never understand. We simply have to believe in the magic of television y’all. Tommy is not going to rat Oliver out and he quite literally saves his ass.

Something Oliver should have known, but his lack of faith in Tommy is evident. It’s something Tommy cannot tolerate, not after everything that’s happened between them. He cannot believe Oliver thought he was dealing drugs out of the club.

Oliver doesn’t understand why Tommy wasn’t honest about the bribe. Oliver loses me right off the bat. Team Tommy all the way. Let’s list out the things you have not told Tommy, Oliver and we’ll see who has the longer list. YOU HID YOUR SECRET SUPERHERO LAIR IN THE CLUB YOU OPENED WITH TOMMY AND NEVER TOLD HIM ABOUT IT. A bribe is chump change in comparison to that lie.

Tommy: Let me ask you a question, pal. What have I done in the last six months since you’ve been home that would lead you to believe that I would sell drugs?

Oliver:  In the last six months? Nothing. But before I left you played hard. You played with bad people who were into bad stuff.

Tommy: So, did you Oliver. But I changed just like you did. Now you put arrows in people who do bad things.

Oliver gets owned in this argument, because Tommy is right. He refuses to see that Tommy has truly changed, but still expects Tommy to understand he has.

Source: @htbthomas

Oliver’s changes are a tougher pill to swallow. Tommy cannot understand how Oliver can kill people so easily and, quite frankly, wasn’t one hundred percent sure he wouldn’t end up with an arrow in him if he told Oliver about the bribe.

Is this insane for Tommy to be wondering? No, I don’t think so. We know Oliver doesn’t kill easily. We know he’s fighting a nightly war and there is a steep cost to this mission.

However, Oliver has not opened up to Tommy about what happened the five years he was away and he’s not Mr. Joe Here’s What I’m Thinking about being The Hood today. Killing is something Tommy cannot understand, but Oliver expects him to accept it with little to no explanation. Then he has the nerve not to trust Tommy? Seriously?

Source: @htbthomas

What Tommy thinks of him is a verbal gut punch to Oliver, but he deserved it. Unfortunately, this fight is not one Oliver can fix with a simple apology. Tommy has reached his limit and who can blame him.

Tommy: This club is important to me, but to you it’s just a front. You want me to keep your secret, help you be this thing you’ve become, but you refuse to see me for what I’ve become. I’ve got just a bit too much self-respect for that. I quit.

BOOM. YASSS MY SON!!! Way to stand up for yourself Thomas. I was so proud of him telling Oliver where to stick it.

Tommy: I’d prefer we skip the I-told-you-so’s, but the nightclub wasn’t really working out. I guess I need something more boring, stable… I guess what I’m saying is - I need a job.

TOMMY WHAT ARE YOU DOING??!!! WORST. DECISION. EVER.

Tommy is back in the arms of the Big Bad Malcom Merlyn. For one brief shining moment, Tommy stood tall on the moral high ground, but not five seconds later comes plummeting back down to work with the sludge of the earth.

Source: @fogsblue

Tommy has every right to be pissed at Oliver, but his father is not the answer. That man is a hellscape. Whatever positive changes Tommy has made he is in real danger of a serious backslide. Now that Tommy is on the outs with Oliver, Merlyn can lead his son right to his very own villain origin story. And Tommy may lose sight of who he really is.

Oliver and Diggle (Felicity)

Oliver is firing on all cylinders tonight with his bros. After accusing his best friend of being a drug dealer, Oliver pitches a hissy fit over Diggle not being available the second he’s needed.

John is distracted because he’s consumed with avenging his brother’s death and killing Deadshot. While Oliver was trying to stop a hostage situation with a man high on Vertigo, Diggle was handing over information on Deadshot to a friend from ARGUS.

Hello Lyla! This is her very first Arrow appearance. These two had more chemistry in this single scene than any scene with Diggle and Carly.  I don’t know what obsession this show has about siblings dating the same people, but it’s enough already. I have to deal with this crap on The Vampire Diaries.

Oliver is furious Diggle ignored Felicity’s phone call. John hilariously tells Oliver not to get his panties in a twist. He’s completely fine. Oliver pretty much puts his hands on his hips and says, “You couldn’t have known that!” They sound like an old married couple.

John is a little put out Oliver is not more understanding. He thought Oliver would understand his vendetta against Deadshot, since Oliver is walking around with a whole damn list of names from his father! But that’s right. It’s a mission. Not a vendetta. Where’s Helena? We need her around if we’re debating this again.

Diggle chooses to be more specific and reminds Oliver The Count almost killed Thea, so his fervor over getting this drug and criminal off the streets may be a little personal too. Oliver says nothing because it’s true.

Diggle: I can’t move on with my life knowing that he’s still out there. I thought if anybody got that it’d be you.

Oliver doesn’t say anything here either because that’s true too. #TeamDiggle.

Felicity and Oliver discover there’s a new antipsychotic drug added to Vertigo, which makes Oliver believe The Count didn’t break out of the asylum like he thought. Maybe he faked his escape like he faked the crazy.

Close, but no. The Count really is three paper plates short of a picnic. It’s his DOCTOR and a very burly orderly who are manufacturing Vertigo. Honestly, I did not see that one coming.

It’s a Vertigo episode, so Oliver is getting drugged, but this time Diggle does show up to save him. He takes out the horse sized orderly, and Oliver kills the doctor with three arrows. It’s not often The Hood requires more than one to get the job done, but his vision was a bit wonky, so he used three just to be on the safe side.

Both the orderly and the doctor had to die because they knew Oliver Queen was The Hood. Those are the rules. The interesting choice Oliver made was not to kill the Count, who is babbling like a toddler on a telephone.

Arrow uses this moment to draw a very important distinction between Diggle and Tommy. After the boys return home, Oliver wants to know if Diggle is ok. He’s the killer in this family, not John.

Diggle: I’ve killed before Oliver. It’s just been a while.

There is no judgment from either man. It’s just quiet acknowledgement that killing is necessary sometimes. But that doesn’t make it easy.

Tommy’s anger towards Oliver makes him blind to his humanity. Oliver is not a psychopath. He does not kill for the enjoyment of it. He is doing what is necessary to save the city from some really bad people. Tommy takes it too far believing killing is easy for Oliver. He’s furious Oliver doesn’t see the change in him, but the truth is Tommy doesn’t see the change in Oliver either.

This is something Oliver never had to explain to Diggle. John does see the change in Oliver. He stood by quietly as Oliver grappled with killing The Count. Diggle didn’t make any speeches. He simply left space for Oliver to make that decision on his own.

If Oliver chose to kill The Count, John would’ve understood that choice as well. He wouldn’t call him a murderer. John encourages Oliver to make different choices, but he also meets Oliver where he’s at. Maybe Oliver would open up more to Tommy if he offered less judgment like John Diggle.

Diggle is curious why Oliver didn’t kill The Count and he tells him the truth. There just didn’t seem to be a point with the Count chained up and lost to madness.

There are two things Oliver is not saying. He was convinced earlier in the episode that he made the wrong decision allowing The Count to live and was just a teensy bit mad.

Source: @lucyyh

But he couldn’t fire the arrow in the end.

Felicity’s gentle reassurance that locking The Count up was the right call hit her intended mark. If killing is truly a last resort, then Oliver has to utilize other methods of dealing with criminals. Oliver has shown more restraint ever since Felicity joined the team. He hasn’t stopped killing, but he does listen to her.

Source: @lucyyh

The second is Oliver believes killing an unarmed man in that condition would be wrong – like stabbing someone in the back. He’s not a threat in that condition and The Count truly didn’t have anything to do with the Vertigo being unleashed on the city again. There are rules to war and those rules keep his humanity intact.

John Diggle has Oliver’s back, so in return Oliver will have his and is making Deadshot a top priority. Couldn’t we have just done that from the beginning and skipped their couples fight?

Neither Oliver or Tommy can see the other for who they truly are. Yet, people Oliver met barely a year ago have more faith in him than his childhood best friend and vice versus. Sometimes history stops us from allowing change in the people we love.

You can see why Oliver is keeping his identity secret from his family and L*urel. It's not just about their safety. He's afraid they will all react like Tommy.

But there's no baggage with Diggle and Felicity, so Oliver has a clean slate. They can see Oliver for who he truly is. It's becoming clearer with every episode that Diggle (and Felicity) are Oliver's best friends.

Shado

Like Felicity, Shado is a breath of fresh air to Team Island. She is beautiful, kicks ass and knows a thing or two about a bow. Oliver has been helpless majority of the time. I am not expecting him to become a super secret agent man like Slade Wilson in a couple of months, but he does need to perform a function on this team other than dead weight.

Shado takes it upon herself to teach Oliver how to shoot, but she does not start with the bow. She begins by telling Oliver to slap a bowl of water. Like the idiotic American he is, Oliver is annoyed, but doesn’t really have anything better to do, so he slaps the water in the bowl. By episode end, his hand is strong enough to pull the bow string. This woman accomplished more in a day than Slade Wilson did in months.

She also provides some much-needed Yao Fei backstory. He was general in the People’s Liberation Army (the Chinese communist army).  The military committed a massacre and chose Yao Fei to take the blame. They sent him to Lian Yu for the rest of his life. Fryers knows this and wants Yao Fei to take the fall for whatever he’s going to do.

And we thought The Count was nuts.

Source: thearrowgifs

As for Shado, she spent years searching for her father. A man told her he knew where Yao Fei was, but kidnapped her instead and brought her to Lian Yu as leverage over Yao Fei. It took nineteen episodes to get that information. Yeesh.

Shado: I’m worried, this island, what he must have had to do to survive. That it changed him.

If this sounds ominous it’s supposed to. Not all change is good. That’s true for all of us - even Oliver Queen.

Stray Thoughts

“You could’ve just said he was nuts.” I like sassy Quentin.

Maybe it’s my whole Buffy history, but Shado and Slade sparring felt very sexually charged.

Budget cuts and the CAMERAS are the first to go in jail?!!!

This will always be one of Diggle's best lines.

TOMMY HAS FELICITY’S PHONE NUMBER. Oh, the fics this detail launched.

What did we ever do in the bunker without this perfect gumdrop of a human being?

“What’s happening now isn’t your fault.” Felicity should’ve tattooed this on Oliver’s arm. It would save a whole lot of time.

“My mom does yoga.” Ollie is just so… Ollie.

1141 is the passcode to the bunker. The Green Arrow was created November 1941 (11/41).

Listen to the Watchover podcast reaction to 1x19!!!

If you’d like to support the blog, please buy me a cup of tea!

Disclaimer: Any gifs on the blog are not mine. If you would like a gif removed from my reviews, please message me

[disco-elysium-via-polls]

2. "Thanks, I'll pass. I'd just go wild."

CALL ME MAÑANA - "And then we might go wild together, which sounds fun. But I guess I have a strike to watch."

"So, anything else you wanted to discuss, boiadeiro?"

5. "Good talking to you. Gotta run." [Leave.]

BOIADEIRO

Research time: 6h 30m Temporary research bonus: -1 Physical Instrument: Astra country

It has been brought to your attention that there are men who live by the law of the land and the strength of their arms. Sunburnt, rugged, smoking men who explored the great rivery veins of upper-Magritte and tamed the Mundi wilds. Frontiersmen, cow-herders, philosophers -- the *boiadeiros*... with a gun in one hand and an unfiltered cigarette between their lips, these men made their own rules. What would it take for you to become one too?

🎵 Martinaise, Terminal B

CARGO CONTAINER DOOR - You're back before the cargo container. Its draw has not lessened since you were last here. If anything, it seems to have grown slightly.

3. [Rhetoric - Impossible 18] Persuade the door to open.

+1 Erratic, yet thorough. +1 Been in the world for two days. +1 Been in this world for many days. +1 Precarious world. +1 One more door. +1 Icosahedral Dice Set "Sirens"

RHETORIC [Impossible: Success] - Despite the dirt that surrounds and trails you, a beacon of light emerges from deep within you.

"Hello, is there anybody in there?"

CARGO CONTAINER DOOR - The door stands silent.

KIM KITSURAGI - "Satisfied, detective?" A wry smile crosses the lieutenant's face.

RHETORIC - Try again.

"If there's someone in there, I'd like to talk to you."

CARGO CONTAINER DOOR - Just like that, you hear a click. Then a rattle. Some mechanism unlocks itself inside the door.

MEGA RICH LIGHT-BENDING GUY - From deep within the container, a voice: "Ahoy! Come on in!"

+5 XP

KIM KITSURAGI - The smile disappears. "You can't be serious."

As we approach the centre of the container.... the amount of real we have increases?

MEGA RICH LIGHT-BENDING GUY - The man stands at the far end of the shipping container. It's hard to say anything more about him. You cannot make out any of his details, but you do feel the overwhelming presence of... capital.

PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT [Trivial: Success] - The feeling causes all the hairs on your body to stand at attention like soldiers preparing for review.

Squint.

Cover your eyes…

MEGA RICH LIGHT-BENDING GUY - Something's amiss. The light beams bend around his face and scatter in a thousand directions. It seems the laws of physics do not apply here. They are suspended, distorted, an echo.

VISUAL CALCULUS [Impossible: Failure] - Trying to visualize the physics at play is liable to give you an aneurysm. Don't think about it too hard!

MEGA RICH LIGHT-BENDING GUY - In the general stillness, only your tongue moves, flickering as you utter...

"Hello!"

"What's going on in here?"

"Wow."

MEGA RICH LIGHT-BENDING GUY - "Welcome, welcome! Not too much, actually, just pleasantly surprised to have company today."

PERCEPTION (HEARING) [Trivial: Success] - You can't *hear* him, exactly, yet you're able to understand every word he says. It is very strange. An overwhelming hum covers everything -- voice doesn't escape from him.

MEGA RICH LIGHT-BENDING GUY - "Now." He claps his hands together. "What can I do for you gentlemen?" What you can see of his body appears composed. In a sharp summer suit. And yacht shoes.

"Who are you?"

"We should get back to our investigation. Thanks for your time." [Leave.]

MEGA RICH LIGHT-BENDING GUY - "Who *am* I? Oh, I haven't been asked that question for such a long time." There's genuine surprise in his voice. "I don't meet a lot of people outside my circle these days..."

"Anyhow, my name is Roustame Diodore -- investor, licence holder, and extremely high-net-worth individual. And you are?"

+5 XP

KIM KITSURAGI - "Mr. Diodore, I am Lieutenant Kim Kitsuragi of the RCM, and this is my partner..."

"Harrier Du Bois."

"The name's Raphaël Ambrosius Costeau. Most likely."

MEGA RICH LIGHT-BENDING GUY - "Pleasure to meet you, Harrier Du Bois," he says warmly. "I must admit, the name suits you very well."

"Who are you?"

"How did you become so rich?"

"What are you doing in this container?"

"You're a rich investor, right? Can I have some money?"

"We should get back to our investigation. Thanks for your time." [Leave.]

KIM KITSURAGI - "Oh, lord, not this again."

"What's the matter, Kim?"

Ignore him.

KIM KITSURAGI - "Oh, nothing. It's just that we've got this *murder* to solve, and yet you go around asking everyone about *money*. And every time I ask, 'Are you sure this is related to the case?', you say, 'Sure, Kim. I think it is'..."

"And yet it never seems to get us any closer to solving the case."

MEGA RICH LIGHT-BENDING GUY - The man chuckles. "It's quite alright. I'm used to the question by now. To be blunt, I inherited my fortune from my grandmother, who, herself, was an extremely high-net-worth individual back in Graad..."

"All I did was take her fortune and invest it prudently. Believe it or not, it takes more than a bit of skill not to blow a vast fortune on sailing boats, bad choices, and *unsupervised* state policy."

ELECTROCHEMISTRY [Medium: Success] - And blow.

"What's it like being an extremely high-net-worth individual?"

"Cool. But I want to ask you about something else."

MEGA RICH LIGHT-BENDING GUY - The man exhales with a whistle. "I gotta tell you, at first, being rich is a lot of work. You've got to work hard because everything's so darn expensive. You know, prices increase exponentially at this income level..."

"But then, once you've reached my position, it's nearly impossible for me *not* to make money. My assets are so diversified that I'm bound to come out ahead no matter what..."

"Some of my lower-net-worth friends say to me, 'But doesn't that take all the fun out of it?' and I tell them, 'Not really.'"

[99tech99]

A/N: This was supposed to be one scene, but then I thought it could use a little background. Then I thought it needed some more fleshing out. Then I was like fuck it, it’s Mendo, let’s add sex. So now this is in four parts. 😅

WARNINGS: A bit suggestive. Technically workplace sexual harassment.

780 words under cut

It was the end of your probationary period as a junior marketing analyst at Innovative Online Industries. You had arrived to the boardroom several minutes early, arranging your laptop, notebook, and pen in front of you on the table. Though you felt the slight swirl of butterflies in your stomach, you were actually looking forward to your performance review. Fresh out of business school, you felt you had been doing well so far and were eager for your supervisor’s feedback. At two minutes past the hour, however, when your supervisor still hadn’t arrived, you started to feel anxious. Opening your computer, you double checked the email invite, hoping you hadn’t misread the time or location. You had thought it odd that you were supposed to meet in the boardroom…

At that moment, the door opened and Nolan Sorrento, CEO of IOI, stepped into the room.

“Mr. Sorrento!” you exclaimed jumping up, “I’m so sorry sir, I thought I was supposed to have a meeting—“ you began.

He glanced up at you from the folder he was perusing. “Yes, sit, please.” He gestured for you to sit back down as he took his place at the head of the table.

Still standing, you tried to explain. “No, sir, I’m just supposed to have my performance evaluation—“

He smiled at you. “Yes, that’s why I’m here.”

There was a moment of stunned silence. You sat back down.

“Mr. Sorrento—“ you began.

“Nolan,” he interrupted waving a hand, still smiling. “Please, call me Nolan.”

“Alright,” you said slowly, choosing your words carefully. “Nolan, it’s not that I’m not flattered for the opportunity to meet with you, but I’m just…not sure this would be a productive use of your time…maybe someone who knows my work…?” your voice trailed off awkwardly.

“Oh, but I do. I’m very familiar with it, actually. I make it a point to stay informed of top employees at all levels. And you…well, you have captured my attention.” He looked across the table at you with his piercing blue eyes.

For reasons that had nothing to do with your career, the feeling of butterflies in your stomach intensified. “Oh?” you said softly.

“Oh yes,” he agreed emphatically. He tapped the folder. “We’ve already implemented your first marketing program. Proceeds exceeded your target projections by several hundred thousand. I’m always interested when someone can make me money.” He frowned slightly. “Didn’t you know?”

You tried to suppress your smile. “No, sir—Nolan—I wasn’t made aware. I’m glad to hear it, though.”

“And I’ll be glad to hear your next idea,” said Nolan tilting his head toward the presentation screen.

Your eyebrows shot up. “Right now?” you asked, trying to keep the panic out of your voice. Of course you had several ideas, but no finished pitches.

“Impress me,” said Nolan, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms.

“Zero pressure for this ‘performance review’,” you scoffed internally. Opening your laptop, you scanned your files. Thinking quickly, you brought up a project. It was far from complete, but you had a hunch the high projected revenue and short turn around time was the most likely to impress Nolan.

You brought your presentation up on the screen Nolan remained in his chair, impassively listening as you explained.

“Damn his poker face,” you thought. At that moment, he casually made his way to the screen hands in his pockets. You kept talking.

He leaned across you so that you were between him and the screen. You faltered. He tapped a point on your graph. “But what about this variable?” he asked softly, looking down at you.

His eyes were so blue. Every coherent thought slipped from your mind. “Um…” You struggled to focus on what he had just asked you, but you had completely lost your train of thought.

“Do I make you nervous?” he asked with a slight smile.

You shook your head. “No. I just…distracted.” He cocked his head and raised an eyebrow as through he knew exactly what had caught your attention. You felt heat rising in your face and quickly glanced back to see what he was pointing to, hoping he hadn’t noticed.

But of course he would have. Sorrento knew exactly what he was doing. You turned back to him, eyes narrowed slightly. “But, yes, I suppose there is some small element of nervousness when you’re brand new at a company and the CEO pops in unannounced to your performance evaluation and requests an impromptu presentation on a pitch you haven’t finished,” you said with a defiant smirk, hoping he would appreciate the sarcasm.

Indeed, Nolan laughed. “Touché. Well, please, finish. Don’t let me…distract you.”

Part 2 here!

@empresskrennic

@allthebestscreennamesaregone63

[rjzimmerman]

Excerpt from this story from Anthropocene Magazine:

It’s nice to hike through the woods with a few friends, feeling a little closer to the natural world. Perhaps you even entertain the idea of being in harmony with your surroundings.

It turns out, you might be more like a chainsaw at a chamber music concert.

The noise of a group of chatty hikers, it turns out, can set off panic among nearby animals. Their response is even more intense than if you drove a 4-wheeled offroad vehicle. And the effects can echo through the wilderness a week later, as wildlife avoid the site of even a small number of noisy human intrusions, according to new research.

“Noise from recreation can carry far beyond a trail system, so understanding how noise alone can affect wildlife is important for management,” said Mark Ditmer, an ecologist at the U.S. Forest Service’s Rocky Mountain Research Station who helped lead the study.

The woods are likely becoming a noisier place, as more people head outside to play. Last year a record 168 million Americans took part in outdoor recreation, according to the Outdoor Industry Association, a trade group. The pandemic lockdowns that closed many indoor venues is credited for boosting a trend that had already taken hold years earlier.

Outdoor recreation is often portrayed as leaving a light imprint on the natural world than. Sporting goods companies such as Patagonia tout their environmental credentials. The backcountry motto of “Leave No Trace” suggests humans can pass through a place without a mark.

But there is a growing realization that even the most low-impact activities can still affect wildlife. Increased human presence near wildlife is associated with a spike in stress hormones, abandonment of some habitat and drops in reproduction, among other things.

The scientists set up a series of experiments in the forests of western Wyoming, which draws thousands of visitors to nearby places like Grand Teton and Yellowstone national parks. They set up video cameras, audio speakers and motion detectors along trails created by wild animals, at least 650 meters from any place regularly traveled by people. When a creature passed a point on the trail, a video camera would start recording and a speaker located 20 meters away would begin broadcasting an audio recording of people engaged in an outdoor activity. That included hikers, mountain bikers, runners, and people riding offroad vehicles. In some cases, the audio was of a small group of relatively quite people. In others, it was groups of more than four talking a lot. The recordings lasted for up to 90 seconds.  All told, the speakers were triggered more than 1,000 times, with video capturing the reactions of mule deer, elk, moose, red fox, black bears, pronghorn antelope, cougars, coyotes and wolves.

When the scientists reviewed the images, it became clear that the sounds of outdoor recreation had a major effect. Wildlife was between 3.1 and 4.7 times more likely to flee when hearing those recordings than when they heard recordings of nature or nothing at all. They also showed signs of being more guarded and vigilant for 2.2 to 3 times longer after hearing recreation-related noises, the scientists reported last week in Current Biology.

[the-inkwell-variable]

Trick or treat!!

AHA A TREAT FOR THEE AND ALSO A CUTE PUMPKIN

TODAY'S TREAT IS A SNIPPET FROM ENDLESS, MY ZOMBIE SHORT STORY COLLECTION THAT I'VE BEEN PUTTING OFF

Under the cut, as it is violent and gory and definitely not to everyone's taste. Enjoy!

“Are y’all ready for some music from the good old days?!”

The screams from the crowd drilled their way into Darcy’s skull. She wanted to screw her face into a mask of pain, but she forced it to remain as blank and impassive as the weird mannequin backstage. She’d worked enough crowds to know that concert-goers were sharks in the water - a single sign of weakness, and it was all over. She’d be dragged under and drowned in the mosh pit. No, she’d have to hide her migraine with a firm glare and crossed arms. She’d done it a thousand times before, she could do it again. There was a reason these washed-up music stars kept hiring her as personal security. She was damned good at her job.

But that didn’t mean she had to like it. It was getting harder and harder to get out of bed on days that she worked. It was an easy gig, sure - she just had to stand in the wings and watch the crowd to make sure nobody tried to hop the stage, and if they did, shove them back into the pit where they belonged. It rarely happened nowadays. People didn’t have the balls they used to. Every show for the past three years had been the same, to the point that she couldn’t tell them apart if you paid her to.

It wasn’t too late to change her career path. Her mom reminded her of that every single time they talked on the phone. She was only thirty-five. There were people in their fifties that went back to college. She had enough money in savings that she could live for a few years without a job - not comfortably, mind you, but she’d have a roof over her head and food on the table, and what more could she really ask for? The real question was, what career path would she study for?

Her train of thought was interrupted before it could truly begin as the movement before her rustled a little too aggressively for her liking. Darcy tore her thoughts from their meandering train and focused on the crowd. A mosh pit was forming - weird, for a classic country concert, but she’d seen weirder. No, this was no ordinary mosh pit. Moshes involved dancing. This looked more like shoving, kicking, punching. So far, nobody was trying to climb onto the stage, so it wasn’t technically her problem… but she still had a job to do, and not reporting this could end up with her getting a bad review. Definitely something to avoid.

She tapped the button on the walkie at her hip. “Heads up,” she muttered into the microphone dangling from her ear. “Mosh pit forming. Looks pretty aggressive.”

“Nah, it’s fine.” A shrill feedback whine accompanied the dismissal, and she cringed in spite of her insistence to remain impassive. “We’ve got eyes on it. People dance harder when they’re drunk. It’s no problem.”

Darcy didn’t respond. No point, really. She wasn’t going to argue the point. This was her first time guarding someone in Bluegrass - maybe they just did concerts differently here in the sticks. Whatever, not her problem. As long as nobody got on the stage, she was happy to let them party however the hell they wanted.

Besides, it seemed venue security did have everything under control. Her eyes trailed to the back of the crowd, where two men in black uniforms wrestled a man out the side door. Maybe she’d just seen a few too many concerts gone wrong - maybe she should start trusting the security detail more. It wasn’t her circus, and these weren’t her monkeys. It would be a lot better for her building migraine if she just stood here and kept her eyes on her client, the one and only thing she was paid to do.

But she couldn’t shake that deep gut feeling that shit was about to go sideways.

Dwayne Davis stepped off the stage to shrill cheers and screams, wiping the sweat from his brow with his flannel sleeve. “What a crowd!” he crows, leaning closer to yell directly into her ear. “I could do this all night! Isn’t it positively electrifying, Darlene?”

“Darcy,” she corrected, an automatic reaction. Her eyes weren’t on him however. She couldn’t take her eyes off of two particularly aggressive men right up against the stage wall. They were dressed identically in plaid flannel and blue jeans - if it wasn’t for their differing hair colors, she’d swear they were twins. One shoved the other, the other surged back. An argument, perhaps? Or a fight in the making? Either way, it made her incredibly uncomfortable. “Mr. Davis, you should end the concert here. Fight’s brewing.”

“Are you mad?” Dwayne Davis didn’t even look at her, too busy cleaning his guitar with a dingy handkerchief. “Do you hear those screams? They love me! They need me! What kind of musician would I be if I ignored their cries for more? I just need a drink of water, then I’m going back out.”

It would be easy to stop him. Dwayne Davis was a scrawny little man, the kind that usually played the comic relief in those old western shows. Darcy was built like a brick house. It would be easy to grab his arm and drag him back out the rear exit, end this concert right now. Still, despite the almost primal urge inside her to grab her client and get out while the getting was good, she watched him toss back half a bottle of water and step back out on stage. The screams grew louder, almost unbearable against the pounding in her temples, but she couldn’t take her eyes off him. There was something about those screams that raised the hairs on the back of her neck. She’d heard plenty of encore demands in her time, but never any like this. It almost sounded like pain and fear, rather than exultation and demand.

Blood sprayed across the floor of the stage - Plaid One dug his fingers into Plaid Two’s shoulders and his teeth into his throat. Darcy was already halfway across sthe stage when Dwayne Davis let out a shrill scream as crimson splattered his imitation alligator boots. “What the - security! Help! Someone help!”

Darcy grabbed his arm. “We’re leaving.”

Dwayne Davis didn’t protest. He allowed her to drag him off the stage, his guitar bouncing off his hip. The stage trembled beneath their feet as people clambered onto it, though whether they were running from the violence or seeking to cause more wasn’t something Darcy was entirely willing to check at the moment. Their screams only spurred her faster. These were not people fleeing from the violence - these were the people causing it, and they were itching to make more. She shoved past backdrops and costume racks, barreling directly toward the back door. She had to get him out. Her paycheck depended on it.

A security guard charged toward them, screaming so loudly that it rasped against a torn throat. Blood sprayed from split lips. Darcy gritted her teeth and squared her shoulders, ready to body slam the man out of her way. Something shoved her square in the back, forcing her off-balance. She stumbled into the security guard’s arms, but he wasn’t there to help her. Dwayne Davis sprinted past, shrieking an apology that disappeared in the cacophony of agony.

I’m going to kill that motherfucker was Darcy’s last thought as the guard tore out her throat.

[literary-illuminati]

Book Review 45 – The Gods Are Bastards Volume One by D. D. Webb

This was the first web fiction I’ve properly archive binged in a long while. I’d quite forgotten the experience of having however many hundred thousand words just waiting to consume your every waking hour for a weekend and change. So thanks to tumblr peer pressure for getting me to finally give this a try, I suppose.

So, this is a web serial set in a world that very much feels like a D&D setting a couple generations after it broke out of medieval stasis – there’s dragons and demigods and thousand year old retired elven adventurers who are all laws unto themselves, and then there’s also a continent spanning hegemonic empire that’s invented magical railways and telegraphs and industrial revolutions. The story specifically follows the freshman class of the Unseen University, a remote institution run by one of the two or three most powerful (former) adventurers alive, educating and connecting the future global elite. The freshman class – including a demigod, the only two paladins in the world, an amnesiac archdemon, and a pirate crown princess – are the protagonists for the better part of the story, bonding and going to classes and sent on absurd field expeditions and generally becoming an incredibly high-powered adventuring party. Each book also has one or two subplots following characters only very tenuously connected to them out in the wider world, more often than not centred around wither Bishop Darling of the Universal Church (former high priest of the god of thieves) or Principia Locke, conwoman and second most annoying elf alive. I will put my cards on the table now and say these plots are what makes the thing worth reading.

The students are – okay, they start off just, bad, but they do improve over the course of the first few books in terms of how grating they are to read (Book 1 is very heavy on the college soap opera). But they do all have the fundamental issue that, where the other plots largely feel like people embedded in a world with agenda to pursue and complex circumstances to navigate, they all feel like high fantasy superheroes being led along a breadcrumb trail in a world devoid of real threats or meaningful ties outside the university and the occasional specific patron. Or put another way, it is not at all subtle that they are the Protagonists or Reality, which instantly makes me dislike them and want them to fail. But going by what makes popular web fiction I’m fairly sure that instinct is mostly just a me thing.

Special shoutout to Tris, the crusading paladin of the group. As of book one she’s a repressed sheltered army brat who has a whole list of species and religions she thinks should be killed on sight and several historical genocides she wholeheartedly endorses. She has a real arc over the volume, but a big part of it is less challenging the fundamental logic of that than just slowly removing lines from her kill on sight list (but nowhere near all of them). I am not entirely sure how self-aware the book is about this.

The remainder of the book, and by far the better part, is mostly dedicated to sideplots centring Bishop Darling’s byzantine intrigues within the universal church, the politics of the empire’s capital city, and his high forays into high risk tutoring and foster-parenting, and Principia Locke, thieves guild resident underachiever, town ne’erdowell and second most obnoxious elf alive. These two characters are objectively the best, and also they’re allowed to be at genuine risk and thrown into tasks where fucking up is a real possibility and the ultimate resolution is very unclear. The best plot of the entire volume is easily Darling and 3 other bishops being deputized as a black ops force by the (arch)pope and sent to illegally poke around a small town, and they’re all the most insufferable people you’ve ever met stuck sharing an airbnb.

The story plays a lot with western tropes and aesthetics transposed onto he magitech high fantasy setting – the ‘Golden Sea’ is an infinite, impossible to navigate expanse in the centre of the continent, home to nomadic plains elf bands and centaur herds, and the imperial frontier has now pushed right up to its edge, full of things like saloons and sheriffs and marshals and magical trains and gun wand-fights and ten gallon hates. This is very fun, but the moving of the reference period from vaguely medieval Europe to the late 19th century USA makes things certain subtext that’s already unfortunate in standard fantasy downright painful – centaurs, clearly and obviously playing the role the savage indian raiders in some mid-century western, are portrayed as a universally evil culture whose main salient trait is that they will literally rape any prisoners to death, and are stated to have been righteous and heroically ethnically cleansed everywhere but this barbaric frontier. It’s, uh, not great.

Now, I came to this serial as someone who has wasted untold days and hours becoming immersed in D&D, like, Lore, which meant that I was incredibly well prepared because there are so many D&D easter eggs in this I think it might technically be a fanwork like Order of the Stick or something. There’s a Drizzt joke that made me audible groan, and more broadly the entire setting is just very incredibly clearly “D&D 3.5 campaign setting plus 50 years and an industrial revolution’. “Adventurers” were a coherent social class, ‘dungeons’ are a thing, there are profoundly uncomfortable attitudes towards ‘monstrous’ races that live in them, the whole shebang. I mostly found this charming, but it’s a thin line, and I can very easily imagine it being utterly insufferable.

Anyway, this is theoretically a complete volume, but it’s also books one-four of, like, seventeen. In the grand tradition of web serials everywhere, it’s three times longer than it really needs to be, and absolutely littered with plot seeds and foreshadowing which might either pay off in five hundred thousand words or never be mentioned again. I’m honestly not particularly sure how well the volume holds up as a coherent work, separate from everything that comes after – Principia got a complete and well done character arc, but that’s about the only part of it I’d say really works here.

As the first fifth or so of a longer work it did get me to keep going onto book five with barely a breath in between though, so on balance I’d say it works.

[theleetoalerandalertoalee]

Day 6 - Chase

Kirara x Lynette

Enjoy<33

“Ah, Kirara. How are you?”

“Lynette! Here, it’s your package!”

“Thank you.”

“Of course, please leave a good review for Komaniya Express!”

Kirara smiles at Lynette and then looks back into her sack of packages, but the one she just delivered was the last one.

“Hm,” says the courier, “that was my last delivery for the day…”

“Oh, would you like to rest here in Fontaine for a bit, then?”

“I suppose so…my paw pads are a bit sore.”

Lynette sets the package aside, “I ordered this for Lyney. His birthday is soon and I’m afraid he’s forgotten about it, so this is going to be his gift.”

“Wow, that’s so thoughtful of you!”

“Thank you.”

“No problem!”

Lynette sits down on the edge of the Fountain of Lucine, gesturing for Kirara to join her.

The magician’s assistant sighs, closing her eyes and tilting her head towards the sun, “power-saving mode on.”

Kirara sits next to Lynette on the side of the fountain, rubbing her sore paw pads.

Lynette frowns, “they’re dry- no wonder it’s sore. Here, I have a cream that will help. It works on both paws and skin. ‘Father’ has it specially made.”

“Oh- aha- it’s fine, really.”

“I insist.”

“My paws are very sensitive, so I’d rather not.”

“You can’t continue delivering packages like this.”

“It’s nothing, really.”

Lynette sits up, “activating performance mode.”

“What?”

“It’s going to happen. It’s for the best.”

Kirara leaps from her seat, “no- nonono, it’s okay!”

Lynette stands up, slowly walking towards Kirara, “look, it’ll only take a second-”

Kirara runs off, and her two tails are straight upwards, acting as radars to detect any movement.

Lynette sighs, “you’re just like my older brother.”

The magician’s assistant gives chase and the race is on.

Kirara runs quicker, realizing that she has a third tail trailing behind her. Lynette is gaining quickly.

Kirara goes on all fours, desperate to put space between her and her chaser.

How was Lynette so fast?! Kirara just has to be faster. She hates having her paw pads touched, and she surely wasn’t going to surrender easily-

“Surprise!”

“Wah-?!”

Lynette suddenly jumps on Kirara, tackling her to the ground.

“Lynette-! Look, we can talk about this!”

Kirara’s tails are wagging violently as her ears swivel to the sound of the lid unscrewing to the cream.

“It’ll make you feel much better- just relax.”

“Okay…! Okay…”

Kirara takes a deep breath that immediately hitches when she feels Lynette’s cream- covered fingertips on her paw pads.

“Eep-! Wait-! Lyn- hahahahaha! Stop! they’re ticklish- hahahaha!”

“The cream will moisturize your paw pads so they won’t be as dried out, making them much less sore.”

Lynette’s fingertips go into the crevice between each paw pad and it drives Kirara up the wall. The courier tries in vain to escape, but Lynette is unstoppable in performance mode.

“N- nyahahaha! That’s enough-! Hahahaha!”

“This should suffice,” Lynette wipes off the remaining cream on Kirara’s twitching paws.

“Ah…hahahaha…is it over…?

“Yes,” Lynette gets off of Kirara.

The youkai giggles softly, wiggling her paws as the tingles from the attack slowly dissipate.

Lynette sits down beside Kirara, “power-saving mode.”

Kirara sighs and sits up, looking down at her paws that now look a thousand times better than before. Not to mention, they’re much less sore.

“Ah…hehe…thank you, Lynette…”

“No problem. I’m glad I could help.”

“Sorry for…running away…”

“It’s okay, cats usually will run from imminent danger.”

“Oh- really?”

“Yes, but I don’t mind.”

“Okay…good…well, thanks for looking out for me- even if I made it a bit difficult, heh.”

“‘Father’ always said to look after those you care about, and you are one of those people.”

“Aw, thank you! You’re one of those people for me, too!”

“It’s an honor, then.”

“You’re such a good friend.”

“You are, too. Thank you for the package, by the way, you were quicker than usual.”

“Hehe, that’s what you order when you ship with Komaniya Express~!”

[ikeromantic]

Hello! Congratulations on 1 thousand subscribers!!!! It's marvellous to have been following you for years and see your blog grow more each day ( ^ - ^ )

To celebrate, could I get Masamune, Taste 😸? Thank you so so much in advance, I can't wait to see what you'll come up with--it'll be amazing, that's for sure ;)

I wish you all the love and success, take care!

Aww you are too sweet! And wow! It has been years since I started posting. Time flies. So here is approx. 500 words of Masamune getting some tasty morsel :D

Masamune smiled as he looked across the table at his love. He felt a surge of warmth at her smile, the sparkle in her eyes. The relationship they had still felt unreal to him, as if it might evaporate in the blink of an eye. He was a man of sudden passion, the brief tempest of a summer storm. And he still felt those powerful movements of his heart, but only for this one precious woman.

She blushed and looked away from him, as shy now as the first time he’d kissed her. “Dinner is good,” she said, trying to mask with some small talk.

He grinned. “What’s the matter, kitten? Your cheeks are red.”

“Nothing!” She took another bite.

“Lass . . .” Masamune’s voice held a note of playful warning. 

“You know what.” She tried for a stern look, but only managed to look adorably flustered.

He took her free hand and lightly played his fingers over her palm. A teasing, tickling touch. His one eye brow rose.

She sighed. “You are impossible. Sitting there looking like you want to eat me up instead of dinner . . . and then teasing me when I blush!”

“Hm. I hadn’t considered eating you instead of dinner. More like a dessert. It’s an idea though. Sweets first?” He lifted her hand to his lips and nipped her fingertips.

“Masamune!” She laughed and squealed at the attention. 

He loved the way she laughed, her silly pretend struggling as he teased her. She was all of his favorite things. “You can’t object to your own suggestion, lass.”

“It wasn’t a - a suggestion!” Her giggles ruined any pretense of outrage. “I’m trying to eat dinner, you know?”

“Dinner can wait.” His blue eye burned with a hunger for other things, and he knew she knew it. 

Her expression shifted to understanding that he wasn’t just teasing now. “Oh. Well. Yes. It will still be here in an hour.”

“An hour? You wound me, kitten.” He grinned and stood. “An hour’s barely long enough to get a taste. I want time to enjoy the every dish.”

“There’s more than one dish?”

Masamune helped her up. “Oh yeah. There’s . . . at least five. Six.” He pretended to count, his fingers trailing over her neck, her breasts, hips, and every other part he could reach. 

She laughed breathlessly. “You are ridiculous. You can’t tell me my arm tastes different than my shoulder.”

“I guess I’ll have to sample each bit and give you a review.” He picked her up and kissed her, a slow, heated melding of their lips and tongues. As he drew away for a breath, he said, “A complex blend of sake and innate sweetness. Definitely more a dessert dish than a starter.”

Her eyes widened and she slapped his arm. “Hey!” 

Masamune caught her hand and suckled her wrist just below the palm, letting his teeth draw lightly over her skin. “Mmmm now here is a rich flavor. Notes of salt, a slight bitter floral aftertaste. Beneath that . . . essence of beautiful woman.”

“Essence of - seriously? Now you’re really just teasing.” 

“Kitten, I have not begun to tease. You still have your clothes on, afterall.” His smile was wide and full of wicked promise. “And I am completely serious about you. I love the way you taste. The way you smell. The way you feel.” He squeezed her gently. “Everything about you makes me love you more.”

She had no reply to that, other than to kiss him again. And Masamune was fine with that reply.