#you always serve bangers

[justaz]

was imagining identity reveal where the knights are arthur all realize that merlin isn’t into it, he’s humiliated and change their teasing about his fantasies to teasing him over the stories about him. merlin threatens to turn them all into slugs. arthur “takes pity” on merlin and tries to gather as many stories as he can from circulation and keep them out of the publics hands. if a few happen to find their way into his room for him to read when he’s alone?? well. he’s the king. he can do what he wants.

I wasn't planning on posting this today, but this idea came to me today and I must share it! (I'm still working on my special au to celebrate two big tumblr milestones! Hopefully it'll be done by the end of the week!)

With all of the dehumanizing propaganda labelling magic users as "inhuman monsters" that Uther spread during the purge, people who are attracted to magic users are probably labelled as deviants. In Camelot, saying "yeah I'd bang a wizard" is considered completely taboo. But that doesn't stop people from fantasying about what they can't have.

This, of course, spawns a whole genre of steamy romance manuscripts featuring evil sorcerers kidnapping fair maidens and falling in love with them, powerful wizards seducing innocent princess with their dark magics, dark and broody warlocks tricking naive ladies into becoming their lovers through a devil's bargain, etc. These cheesy romance manuscripts are quite popular with the ladies of Camelot, as they have a forbidden aspect to them in both the owning of such stories and the material of the stories themselves. Plus, when you're a noblewoman trapped in a loveless political marriage, the fantasy of a dark and powerful magic user becoming enamored with them and stealing them away is quite the appealing fantasy.

To many people in Camelot, magic users become the ultimate forbidden romance fantasy, being (in their imaginations) secretive and powerful creatures who can use their magic to exert their will and their dark desires on their innocent victims.

The few people in Camelot who have actually slept with magic users don't help these rumors either, as they only add fuel to the fire. Gwaine certainly has plenty of stories to share about how much fun sorcerers and witches can be in bed with their magic, and the people in the tavern listen with rapt attention and furious blushing when he tells those stories.

But when tales of Emrys, the last dragonlord and the most powerful sorcerer to ever live, travel from the druids to Camelot? The wizard-fuckers in Camelot went wild.

Within a couple weeks, there were dozens of steamy (and VERY imaginative) romance novels and manuscripts written and passed around Camelot, all revolving around the mysterious and brooding warlock Emrys.

As people's dirty imaginations ran wild with what Emrys might be like, the general perception of Emrys became more and more ridiculous. According to some of these stories, Emrys was a seven foot tall brooding warlock whose magic made him irresistible, forcing people to succumb to his will.

Pretty much everyone in Camelot gets their hands on one of these manuscripts or hears about them. Gwaine has his own collection of them, which isn't too shocking to anyone, but, to everyone's surprise, Merlin starts collecting some of those stories too (to make sure that no one else gets their hands of such embarrassing material, but people just assume that he has some sort of kink). He even blushes whenever someone mentions them (out of mortification).

Eventually, Arthur finds out about his kingdom's dirty fascination with this Emrys guy because people kept teasing Merlin for his crush on Emrys. Arthur demands to know who Merlin has fallen for (for security reasons, of course, not because he's jealous). It's at that point that Gwen and the knights have to tell Arthur that his entire kingdom (including Merlin apparently) has been thirsting over a hot mysterious sorcerer that no one actually knows anything about.

Arthur almost blows up when he hears this, furious that his entire kingdom has been having dirty fantasies about a dangerous man who's most likely their enemy! And don't even get him started on how Merlin, his Merlin, has the audacity to be more attracted to this Emrys than Arthur himself! This is outrageous!

However, no matter how much Arthur tries to point out to Merlin that being attracted to Emrys is a bad idea and nothing will ever come of it anyways, he still keeps on catching Merlin with those dirty manuscripts about Emrys! (Because Merlin is still trying to secretly get rid of them all).

Eventually, Arthur gets frustrated enough that he'll try anything to get Merlin's attention away from Emrys. He thinks over how he could do that for a while, until one day he overheard two ladies of the court talking about how much they enjoyed it when their partners in bed roleplayed as a powerful magic user like Emrys, and Arthur begrudging came to a solution.

The next day, when Arthur catches Merlin reading a story about Emrys and blushing wildly again, Arthur clears his throat, looks a mortified Merlin dead in the eyes, and asks, "if I took you to bed and pretended to be Emrys while doing so, would that finally get you over your ridiculous attraction to this criminal of a sorcerer?"

Arthur was perhaps a bit too blunt in his delivery, as Merlin promptly started choking on air after Arthur's question in lieu of an answer, much to Arthur's annoyance. You see, as much as it would irritate Arthur to have to pretend to be another man, let alone an enemy sorcerer, in bed, Arthur had a plan.

Arthur obviously needed to rein in Merlin's lust before his servant did anything stupid (like fall into bed with an actual dangerous sorcerer), and what better way to do that than slake Merlin's lust himself? Truly, Arthur was the most generous king there ever was (ignoring his own rampant attraction towards Merlin). And once they were in bed, Arthur would prove to Merlin how great and how proficient a lover he is, and any thoughts of Emrys (or any man who wasn't Arthur for that matter), would be forgotten immediately in the face of how superior Arthur is!

Arthur mentally pats himself on the back for coming up with this genius plan as Merlin's coughing fit finally ends.

"Arthur, why on earth would you even ask that?!"

"Because you're clearly enamored with this sorcerer, so perhaps this will finally get that stupidity out of your system!"

They go back and forth like this for a while, until finally Merlin, to his own shock, agrees to Arthur's proposal. Arthur feels alight with victory for a few minutes, until he realizes that he'll have to learn how to act convincingly like a powerful sorcerer for one night. At that point, Arthur goes out to buy some dark robes for himself to hopefully get more into character, and even "studies" some of those spicy manuscripts to get an idea of what Merlin would be expecting.

Arthur barely managed to finish one of them from how scandalized he was at their contents. Why were these so popular with his subjects?! Still, Arthur soldiered on, reading more and more of the embarrassing romance manuscripts until he finally felt confident in what Merlin was looking for.

Of course, when the time came, Arthur was terrible at roleplaying as a sorcerer, but Merlin didn't mind one bit (most because Merlin was torn between laughing hysterically or being embarrassed beyond belief at at Arthur's poor impersonation of a poor interpretation of Merlin himself, so he decided to instead just enjoy being with Arthur).

And that's all for now! I'm thinking about doing a continuation of this later on, where Camelot (who's been thirsting over Emrys) learns that Merlin had been Emrys all along. Please let me know if you'd like to see that one day!

And, as always, thank you for reading through my ramblings! :D

[rinbylin]

remembering tonight "变得不适应因为它们原本来自江河大海 世上本不应该有池塘" (said by a monk character) and thinking about the sea being repeatedly suggested to be the place with the last traces of lxy - and llh - in this world

[atiianeishaunted]

blue writing is lance's notes fyi anyway uhh character bios below !! long ass writing warning but worth it i promise chat pspsp | no notes version AND the transparent PNGS down at the end!

character bios:

Allura [???] | A lone princess who is burnt out and stressed out her mind, her only solace/stress relief being the garden she has where she can have peace and quiet, shutting her brain off while she does the tasks of tending to her precious plants and bugs. She tries her best to remain as friendly and optimistic as possible, if not for her own sanity, however thanks to the stress and pressure put on her, she has a tendency to lose her cool and sometimes shut down entirely. She has a passion for commanding and loves honing her fighting skills as that was one of the ways she bonded with her father. She more often than not can be seen in comfortable clothes, she doesnt mind dresses and does enjoy dressing up but will only do it when shes going out the castle or theres a meeting. | this gal couldve been an burnt out autistic queen DREAMWORKS, YOU COUDLVE MADE HER ICONIC .... let her be a dorky nerd whos a hater sometimes, pretty please

Takashi Shirogane | A garrison commander (no one is really sure of his job title to be honest with you..) who's insanely passionate about his job, to the point where hes willing to sacrifice it all if the garrison wills it. Anything to serve. He tries his best to fit in and be hip with the kids, he tries to come across as the 'chill' teacher, but students of his have reported that after a few months, any amount of chillness is thrown out the window. If not that, hes often not even in class, too busy doing missions he wasnt assigned to. He's intense. Very intense. Knows his way around words though for the most part, can be very convincing and a bit maniuplative, very goal driven. He means well though? Thats what he says. He always throws a quick sorry if someone brings it up with him, so that must mean something. | sorry in advance if you follow along with Sonder's story... unrelated but dreamworks wrote a banger antagonist without even realizing!

"Keith" Kogane / "Morse" | Unknown origins. He was a talented garrison pilot who could practically fly with his eyes closed, a jack of all trades, short tempered and prone to losing it but all things considered, the perfect cadet for the garrison's goals, he came out of nowhere practically, just poofed in like a ghost and wiped the floor with everyone. He really just needed a good guiding hand. No one is quite sure what gender he is, his androgynous appearance and tendency to respond to anything besides being called a girl have people baffled to say the least. He's very clearly not all there in the head either which goes hand in hand with his odd bursts of ego and then odd bursts of whining, these bursts often include talks that could only be described as cult-ish. People have their theories. Beyond those bursts, hes mostly very deadpan and quiet. But despite his strength and that intense feeling of fear and dread people get when they're around him, he's.. popular, somehow. Admired greatly for his devilish good looks. A universal appeal if you will. He doesn't seem to notice. Or perhaps doesnt care. Either way he's far too busy following Shiro around and treating him like the second coming of god to really indulge in romance for now. Lance's self proclaimed rival, Keith is also unaware of this. | also sorry in advance for this one if you follow sonder's storyline Lance McClain | A former Garrison cargo pilot who moved up in rank when Keith got kicked out. Keith is his rival and also all that Lance can talk about, even after the guy got kicked out and left for dead (Lance overheard some things while sneaking out past the teacher's lounge). He has a very noticable personality and loves to be the center of attention, hes still finding his footing and figuring out what he wants to do with his life and who he wants to be. Despite his many claims, hes not all that popular. He can't really flirt with girls all too well. His general goal is to be so well known so he won't ever be forgotten, hence why he begged his mom to let him dye his hair and get piercings (if he used Keith as an argument, thats none of your business.) (he saw keith dying his hair once or twice and instantly wanted to copy, its a bad habit.). He loves LOVES taking care of his appearance and is fairly vain, he has extensive routines and will freak out if he can't follow them. His ego and overbearing confidence is all to drown out his deep insecurities and fears. He tries his best to come across as a suave, cool, charming, awesome, any positive adjective really, person but in all reality he's a mama's boy, a dork, a loser if you will who has a love for the retro and is a huge gamer. If he must admit, he and Keith'd get along great actually, Keith ticks alot of boxes and honestly Lance deeply admires him and wants to be like him. | dreamworks dropped that lance was a gamer and loved retro stuff and then never talked about it again. sigh. Hunk Garrett | Hunk has many passions, mainly inspired by parents, he mainly specializes in cooking and mechanics, he enjoys tinkering with things, taking them apart to see how they work and working from there to see if he can rebuild it with 0 instruction, hes gotten good at it. He's Lance's childhood best friend, they're extremely close and are often seen constantly poking fun at eachother. Its all in good fun though. Hunk struggles extremely with anxiety and has a service dog back home that he left at home when heading to the Garrison as he worried he couldn't take care of it while studying. Despite his anxiety, he quite enjoys talking to people and sharing things he enjoys with them, he often tries to get over his fears by branching out and | I looked up his name from the old show because he deserves an 'actual' name, free my boy, he was done so dirty, also i remember when we all thought hunk had two moms (or was that just me ..) and i live by it tbh, two moms and a dad whos still active in his life, 3 whole parents for the greatest fella ever

Pidge Holt | Not much can be said about Pidge, they keep to themselves and don't share much about themselves. Just like Keith, their gender is often up to debate and when asked, Pidge will never give a consistent answer. They're a major tech wiz and with their talents, they're a complete menace. Pidge is prone to being mischevious and pranking others, often taking jokes a bit too far. They're egotistical and find that robots are their preferred companions in comparison to humans. | loser chronically online 13 year old who would tell you to kys, matt probably has to take away their electronics all the time LMFAO purposely made their outfit look a bit strange bc , theyre a kid whos a NERD /aff let them dress a bit stupid and let them cringe at it 5 years later ty

No notes version and PNGS below :-)

im insane about this reboot!! please reblog and im willing to elaborate if anyone wants me to <333 hrgfhrfg i really want this to take off bwaa

[chenayder]

hi tumblr! in honor of my song "For One Last Time" coming out today 🎀 i've made the executive decision to assign my songs their rightful k-assignment and here that is ...

Goodbye: DEAN

Banger for all the indie kids looking for a song they can relate to. Lots of comparisons to the unknown + mystery and I feel like DEAN does that pretty well in his music.

Fall: RED VELVET

A classic serve from a classic group referencing a classic song: Fall :) 

My My: TWICE

TWICE have been serving for 9 years straight and frankly My My still needs the hype that TWICE also deserve… if that makes sense to the audience ..

Strawberry Perfume: NEW JEANS

My all time favs acknowledging each other to maximize their joint slay. Not much else to see here 😋 #NEWJEANSxBILLIExCHENAYDERONEDAY 

Off The Wall: BTS

…. THIS GIRL IS ON FIYAAAAAAAA … (but anyways this video will go down in the history books)

Small room: 2NE1

You know I had to recognize the OG girls for my OG song, Small room. Always relevant

Out of Love: LE SSERAFIM

Antifragile” and “Out Of Love” just resonate at similar levels of joy for me. Also just look at the styling …. A+

Colors: Stray Kids

i have a song called colors …. here we are …..

and if u made it this far … u might as well watch my new music video

[zettaireido-emotion]

Camus character analysis: games VS anime

If you finished the Uta no Prince-sama anime and your opinion of this man is "wow, he's kinda terrible," I don't blame you. in fact I've seen a lot of people say this

In this post, I want to talk about his characterization in the games and give my two cents on what the anime was trying to do with him, especially in his single focus episode Saintly Territory (S3E6).

Disclaimer: I wrote this on a whim because I'm sick and stuck at home so if anyone reads this, sorry I might go all over the place

Spoilers for all of the games!

The "be my slave" thing

Starting with Anime Camus's most egregious crime: treating Haruka like a servant/slave (however you want to translate it)

Basically in his focus episode, Haruka is tasked with writing a song for Camus. She wants to learn more about him in order to write it, but Camus will only let her follow him if she acts as his servant. She accepts without complaining, Cecil is rightfully angry, Haruka continues anyway and the song gets completed.

Now, am I about to say that Game Camus would never do this? No because he literally does lmao.

The anime doesn't pull this "servant" plotline out of nowhere, here's the context in his route:

Haruka accidentally overhears Camus talking about a plot to assassinate Saotome on the phone. When he notices that she heard everything, he basically tells her that he has to kill her now. But if she served him, he'd be able to keep an eye on her, make sure she doesn't leak anything, so she could escape death.

Okay uh "work under me or DIE" isn't exactly better, nor is it a good start to a love story, but I'm not finished!!

(A side note: I have to add that the anime made him look like an even bigger asshole and borderline dumb when it came to the things he made her do. Like he expected her to know that snapping your fingers means you want coffee without prior explanation. bro

^This might have been for comedic effect but I promise he can be actually funny and endearing.)

What the anime couldn't cover

The Camus episode wraps up with Haruka pulling through and writing a song that makes Camus "sincere," he says it's cool at the very end and that's the episode. I think the problem is that we technically didn't see him being sincere or what that even means to him, besides when he was singing (banger song btw)

It's a shame because in a 20-minute episode you really can't show the game experience of slowly piecing together what this man's problem is.

First of all, in Debut and AS you'll be quick to notice that he always has homeland and duty on the mind, constantly reminding himself that he's in Shining Agency/Japan for a reason, and it's NOT to have fun or make friends

The truth is, he slowly starts to appreciate the banter with his colleagues, music, and working there in general.

But because of his initial mindset, he has to rationalize & justify every connection he forms, like "it's just for work" or worse: "actually it was ALL A LIE and I NEVER ENJOYED A SECOND OF THE TIME WE SPENT TOGETHER, I'm such a great actor haha"

He uses that to fool himself and to push the other person away so it doesn't happen again. This scene is probably the best example:

(I'll be using google lens because it's faster but I checked that the tls were okay)

He also does this in the Non-Fiction drama, which may or may not have actually happened, but I think it's still a pretty good reflection of what could happen in reality because he tells Ranmaru their bond was a lie, then mopes around in his guilt thinking about the good times and wondering why he's sad, and THEN later doubles down on the "it was a lie, I don't care about you" because he just can't let himself get attached to anything.

Basically, he's terrified at the thought of forming actual bonds because he genuinely thinks he's nothing if he stops being a cold weapon:

At one point he does admit he sucks (as a love interest)-

-which is pretty huge by utapri standards. I love these games, but the amount of times where a male lead does something icky, and everyone, including Haruka, acts like it's normal or like it's Haruka's fault is ehhh but I digress

Upbringing

Of course he's very proud of his homeland and status, but sometimes it's to the point of thinking he can't be anything other than his title. So why is he like this?

We got to hear about his childhood from Camus himself a few times, and it often ended with Haruka thinking "wait? that's kinda messed up?" and Camus insisting it's nothing/it's normal so yeah that's something...

His parents were in an unhappy arranged marriage, and his mother was forced to birth an heir which traumatized her so much that she can't see Camus without falling ill. Overall it's a pretty tragic situation since what happened to her was horrible, though not Camus's fault either. Even now she refuses to see him, and I wouldn't say that makes him sad because he never really met her, but simply knowing of her sacrifice probably adds a lot of pressure. As in, he only exists for this one purpose (inheriting his father's title and serving the country), so if he doesn't play his part correctly, it would have all been for nothing.

He was raised by his father not as a child or son but as the heir, always treated and judged as an adult (even during physical training apparently, make of that what you will)

When Haruka asks about childhood memories he has a very hard time finding something that doesn't have to do with his duties or the nation. And then admits he didn't truly have a "childhood" since he was never treated like a child

As for the queen, I think his love for her is sincere: she taught him a lot of things growing up, and according to him, she's also a victim trapped by her duties so he wants to ease the burden.

So hypothetically, if he found things or people that made him happy in Japan, he would feel obligated to lock them away because that happiness is incompatible with his life: he'll have to leave when his mission ends, he shouldn't be spending time on things that aren't "useful" as he doesn't have the free will to pursue them

In his mind he's completely tied down by the fact that he was born and raised for a single reason, and the fact that he does want to serve the queen.

(This is Saotome describing him btw)

Also it might sound ridiculous to bring his self-worth into question because of how pretentious he is, but I've counted a few situations where he seemed to have complete disregard for his own life, only worrying about Haruka and Cecil's safety in scenes when they were present. And he thinks wanting to be loved unconditionally is a childish thought he shouldn't have.

"Double Face" was a lie. There's like at least 10 layers

On the surface he does have two personas, his perfect polite butler act for the media, and his cold bitchy attitude off camera. But honestly, even when he's not acting as a butler, he's often putting up a front to hide any form of vulnerability (from himself as well)

His main struggle is finding who he is outside of what he's being told to do. Before, he never actually stopped to think about what he WANTS because it just never occurs to him, or if it does he ignores it.

That's why realizing that he has his own desires is essential to his character development, and him staying with Quartet Night (and Haruka in his routes) is so important. It's why Reiji feels the need to reach out and when he does, Camus either freezes up or tears up;

This all makes him the opposite of Ranmaru (being true to yourself and sincere), and similar to Ai (gradually learning to view the world in a less cold and logical way), but I kind of want to save that for another post lmao

He is especially hard on Cecil because Cecil says & does whatever he wants, and everything still works out for him, which is a way of life that Camus can't imagine for himself at all (despite maybe wanting it?)

That he can realize this and eventually admit out loud, despite all his pride, is also one of my favorite things about him

Season 2 does hint at something, so that's pretty cool!

Side note, I really love that his theme in the new Oracle series is "Change," the melting of ice.

So what was the anime supposed to do??

Of course there's no way to show all this in a single episode or even during the runtime of the anime, and I never expected them to because the story is very surface-level (that goes for all characters).

It's just unfortunate since the anime is the most accessible and well-known utapri media in the western fandom, and the character's main episode is bound to leave the biggest impression.

I understand the choice of being laser-focused on the servant plotline, it's supposed to be funny (?) and waters him down to a trope that's easy to understand at first glance (the step-on-me guy I guess)

Still, I can't help but compare it to Ranmaru's episode, who was also hard to work with in the games but was chill in S3E7 and got to pet cats. Anime onlys will never know how much Camus loves to dote on his dog smh.....

[seunghyunjigglers]

mama, a stray kid behind YOU ★ @seunghyunjigglers

ot8 skz members as brainrot memes!

author's note: we even included links for some of the less chronically online divas out there (generous much?)! a lot of thought and effort went into this and we hope you love and appreciate our firstborn child. tw: dark humor. betas, do not interact!

chan ★ "i'm the leader, i'm the alpha, i'm the one to trust"

unironically watches bad edits of himself and goes "ayeee" to hype himself up about being edited

comments under them on his secret account

his fyp is now most definitely infiltrated by alpha chan edits

let's be real the whole trend was probably what inspired wolfgang to be released

bites his lip bc he thinks it makes him look sexy and he just looks like he's eating his bottom lip

tries to do that thing where guys put their necklace between their lips and take pics to be sexy but the necklace falls down his throat and he starts choking

would deliberately start doing aegyo followed by serving face to show his 'duality' since apparently the fandom love it (poor guy doesn't understand irony still)

LOVES when stays talk about his gyatt and starts using it bc he thinks its just another normal word for ass and seungmin and felix almost throw up laughing at him

minho ★ "queen never cry"

genuinely thought 'lock in' was something to be taken seriously and does NOT take it lightly when chan tells everyone to lock in

his kinky ass also probably thought it was some kind of jail roleplay (jisung had to explain it to him)

has mewing competitions with himself in the mirror

makes 'minho never CRY 💜' the note on his alarm in the morning

thinks it’s funny when he recommends the ki sisters manga (where the meme comes from) to people as his favorite series and the poor author has to actually go on a talk show cause he blew it up with the internet

checks his notifications EVERY day hoping someone will edit him with that baby

accidentally comments “queen NEVER cry” under a sentimental skz edit on the official account and wakes up with several calls from his managers.. let’s just say it didn’t go over well

changbin ★ "gadagadegadagadao" (omega nugget)

he stumbled across this meme on felix's fyp one evening and thought it would make the best vocal warmup for his raps, didn't realise it was a joke and actually uses it before recording tracks

when he discovers its a meme he thinks its hilarious and makes it his whole personality

stops mid convo with people and makes the face and thinks he's so funny (everyone is tired of it)

orders mcdonald's for everyone and takes the time to draw the face on EVERY chicken nugget and couldn't be prouder of himself

genuinely thinks the song is an actual banger and has it saved as a sample for a potential title track

hyunjin ★ "donatella VERSACE"

only types like THIS 💜 and felix and seungmin are the only ones who get it

chan finds out and secretly changes his name in a groupchat with their managers and staff to "hwang HYUNJIN 💜"

he is tired but donatella is not

his gag christmas present for secret santa is boxers with ms versace herself covering his chocolate starfish and he has a wardrobe malfunction while wearing them at a show and EVERYONE sees

is actually really embarrassed when he has to explain what it means to her and she just nods and tries to smile with all her botox

after this she comments it on all her posts and he accepts that he’s never escaping it

jisung ★ "jiafei 'in my head' remix" (floptropica)

this man is always singing his lungs out in every skz code and somewhere along the way he saw an edit of him with jiafei's vocals in the bg

was actually impressed by her vocal skills and tried to hunt down her ig page, ends up on some fake floptropican fanpage but he doesn't know this because he has minimal survival skills

dms some loser message like "wow your voice is sooooo nice haha...i also like to sing lol...so do you like korean boys haha..."

owner of the jiafei fan account is a stay and thinks this is hilarious and catfishes the hell out of him for WEEKS, sends vocal edits and jisung unironically eats them up, he def sends back vms of him doing vocal covers to impress her

felix hears him singing a jiafei remix one day and almost shits himself laughing, jisung gets angry and defensive until felix reveals that jiafei is literally a meme

realises he's been catfished

blocks the account and gets sulky whenever any floptropican edit pops up on his fyp, but still sings the jiafei remixes quietly to himself (some habits are hard to break)

felix ★ "oi oi oi...baka" (freaky larvae)

recreates it and everyone takes it seriously and he has to make a video telling everyone it was not in fact a thirst trap

breaks up serious arguments like "we need to calm down...you're all being a bunch of...heh...bakas..."

searches it up one day to see if there's any other lore and accidentally discovers a yagami yato audio and gets traumatised

seungmin gets fed up by felix constantly repeating it so he comes up with a master plan and during one of their japan concerts says "oh, felix has been practicing his japanese lately...what's that thing you keep saying?"

i feel like he'd perfect that freaky expression and everyone is sick of him and changbin for randomly using them

picks larva on his turn to choose something for movie night and everyone comically (see what i did there) groans and gets up while he’s just there cracking up

seungmin ★ "saddam hussein hiding spot"

this guy saw a 'saddam hussein hiding spot' comment under jeongin's post and fell down the rabbithole (or rather, the entrance covered in bricks and rubble)

thinks its HILARIOUS because it's a historically accurate meme (nerd!)

definitely whispers it every single time he sees someone or something laying down and everyone is so fed up with it, also gets felix to do the voice since he can imitate it perfectly

uses it as an excuse to randomly start lying down during dance practices and when everyone complains he just says "why am i lowkey serving saddama hussein hiding spot?"

he'd take this shi so seriously like he'd be doing the math to figure out how much time to spend on each app each day so he can make his daily screen time average look like saddam hussein JUST to make the reference

jeongin ★ "that feeling when knee surgery is tomorrow"

someone makes a comment about how they tore their acl and have to get knee surgery and he goes "that feeling when knee surgery is tomorrow" and starts laughing

it wasn't very funny to said someone

probably has to make one of those formal instagram apology posts because of it (he sets the music as the bg for the original post but his manager makes him delete it and post again)

fake falls at practice and when everyone crowds around him all worried he says he feels like he might need knee surgery tomorrow and gets kicked out of the room

pays an insane amount of money to get everyone matching knee surgery knee pads for practice and absolutely loses it every time someone actually needs to use it and has no other choice

posts a fake hospital pic with “do NOT get your knee surgery from shein !!” on his secret account

asks for permission to change his pfp to the grinch and considers outing jyp when he gets told no

[sm-baby]

Hello!

Just wanna say hi and that I ADORE your TADC Aus and your art is just DELICIOUS pls always serve us goodies will be always waiting for the next banger

(also freak show Caine is better than freak show able, pomni deserves better ☝)

Oh freakshow Caine is NOTTT better than freakshow Able, although I understand yall's perspective, Im still on the side that insists that Able is the lesser evil. Cuz although Caine's torture is occasional, your mind will rot faster than you can heal.

[hier--soir]

may + june + july reads

the strange case of dr jekyll and mr hyde by r. l. stevenson [★★★★]

"Though so profound a double-dealer, I was in no sense a hypocrite; both sides of me were in dead earnest; I was no more myself when I laid aside restraint and plunged in shame, than when I laboured, in the eye of day, at the furtherance of knowledge or the relief of sorrow and suffering."

: ̗̀➛ a london lawyer, mr utterson, investigates strange occurrences between his old friend dr henry jekyll, and the evil edward hyde.

: ̗̀➛ a horror classic! coming in at a sweet 96-pages, it was easy to smash out in an evening. and despite the brevity of the text and the fact that it's over a century old, i found it insanely compelling and indeed pretty chilling at multiple points.

: ̗̀➛ there are some ridiculously funny lines in this. i believe he named the evil character hyde just so he could drop this banger: "'If he be Mr. Hyde,' he had thought, 'I shall be Mr. Seek.'"

: ̗̀➛ henry jekyll my sweet summer child, you flew way too close to the sun with this shit.

: ̗̀➛ "You must suffer me to go my own dark way." BARS.

babel: an arcane history by r. f. kuang [★★★★★]

"The poet runs untrammelled across the meadow. The translator dances in shackles."

: ̗̀➛ opening in the year 1828, a young boy from canton is orphaned by cholera and brought to london by a mysterious professor. he is trained in latin, ancient greek, and chinese, in preparation for the day he will attend oxford university's royal institute of translation - babel. the tower is the world's center for translation and silver-working, the magical craft that has so far brought unrivalled power to the british and supports the empire's ongoing colonisation of the world. but what happens when it is discovered that britain is pursuing an unjust war against china, and robin realises that serving babel means betraying his motherland.

: ̗̀➛ this book left me absolutely speechless. upon starting it i was immediately ashamed at how long it had taken me to pick this up considering all the hype. serious thanks to @seventeenpins for recommending this to me recently, you are the best for putting me onto this.

: ̗̀➛ beautifully crafted, incredibly intelligent, great central characters. i don't even know how to put into words what i felt about this one. and as someone who consumes a fair amount of translated literature [see: my love of ancient greek and roman classics] it tickled my interest around the biases and intricacy of translation so perfectly. you need to read it. please.

: ̗̀➛ have to include: "It should have been distressing. In truth, Robin found it was actually quite easy to put up with any degree of social unrest, as long as one got used to looking away."

: ̗̀➛ have to include #2: "So then where does that leave us? How can we conclude, except by acknowledging that an act of translation is then necessarily always an act of betrayal?"

: ̗̀➛ and absolutely cannot not include this iconic PBS diss: "He greatly enjoyed Mary Shelley's Frankenstein, though he could not say the same of the poems by her less talented husband, whom he found overly dramatic."

paradise rot by jenny hval [★★★★]

"But my dreams are full of apples, and in the dark my body slowly transforms into fruit: tonsils shrinking to seeds and lungs to cores. I dream of white flowers blossoming under my nails, as if under ice. Then my nails break, opening up like clams and in the finger flesh there are little sticky fruit pearls."

: ̗̀➛ jo is in a strange new country for university, living in a house with no walls, a roommate with no boundaries, and a home that seems increasingly more and more alive.

: ̗̀➛ so much piss in this one folks.

: ̗̀➛ jenny hval is a norwegian musician and this was her debut novel, and it was bizarre and haunting and disgusting and made me cringe and feel squeamish at many points, and yet i read it in one fell swoop. it grips you for 120-odd pages and when you're done it feels like you've been spit out disoriented.

mrs s by k. patrick [★★★]

"When she is not around, I invent her. When she is around, I invent her. It is not her fault."

: ̗̀➛ an australian butch lesbian travels to england to work in an elite boarding school, where she meets mrs s, the headmaster's wife. over a hot, restless summer, the two engage in an affair.

: ̗̀➛ i enjoyed this one decently enough. the writing style grew a bit tiresome, and the storyline seemed quite laissez-faire, but overall yes i enjoyed it. what can also grow tiresome for me is the woman-on-woman affair when one of them is married to a man - but maybe i've just read too much queer lit with no foreseeable happy ending lately, idk.

: ̗̀➛ the way the dialogue was structured [or perhaps, unstructured to a painful extent] was not my cup of tea at all.

: ̗̀➛ i was really tickled by her living in an annexe so close to the school nurse, who is very religious. the dynamic gave way to great passages like this: "I imagine her, at night, sending prayers my way, so sweet as to be malicious. In each of our interactions there is always the feeling that I would do better under her God. I don't mind her God, so tangible. The sexy Jesus in her bedroom. His body I too would die to have. Not just the chest but the legs, a footballer's legs, complex with muscle. Even those sad, raised palms. Brazen in their injuries. Such glamour." like hello??? incredible.

grey dog by elliott gish [★★★★]

"You called me a dirty little beast, and I have become as dirty and beastly a woman as there ever was."

"What is that quote from Othello, what Emilia says about men? They are all but stomachs, and we all but food; They eat us hungerly, and when they are full, they belch us."

: ̗̀➛ a 'literary horror novel' set in 1901 about the unmarried and almost 30 'spinster' ada byrd who accepts a teaching post in a small isolated town. she wants to be rid of her past, one 'riddled with grief and shame', but upon witnessing strange and grisly sights, ada begins to believe that something ancient and beastly is behind all the peculiarities in this little town. her confusion deepens, and ada's grip on what is reality, delusion, or traumatic memory, begins to blur and fail.

: ̗̀➛ body horror, gore, the horrors of being a woman, witchy business, descent into madness, women longing for women.

: ̗̀➛ because the entire text is written in first person diary entries, i found that it sometimes failed to establish a creepy atmosphere. although this issue was more prominent for me in the first half, while in the second half the diary entries acted as a great insight as to how unhinged she was becoming. slay.

: ̗̀➛ imo this is simply what happens to a woman when she is raised by a heinous father and ends up an adult surrounded by too many sexy older women!

the sleepwalkers by scarlett thomas [★★★]

"How many eyes can one storm have?"

: ̗̀➛ still reeling from the chaos of their wedding, evelyn and richard arrive on a tiny greek island for their honeymoon. it's the end of the season and a storm is brewing on the horizon. they check into the villa rosa, which has a peculiar owner named isabella, and everyone wants to talk about the famous sleepwalkers, a couple who stayed at the hotel recently and drowned.

: ̗̀➛ saw a tagline that coined this as 'patricia highsmith meets white lotus' and i'd agree. good mystery thriller with some action.

: ̗̀➛ this one was a touch slow at first [it's told in letters, dictated audio recordings, from different perspectives, etc] but ultimately gripped me and i thoroughly enjoyed the drama and mystery. newlyweds that hate each other's guts? yeah, bestie, i need to know why.

: ̗̀➛ i really got into some of the takes showing how evelyn and richard viewed each other. this really stuck with me: "I read infrequently, partly because every book change me, right down the level of my DNA. I didn't want to be changed so often. But you were able to hoover up contemporary culture without so much as a little belch afterwards. You just carried on being you."

: ̗̀➛ also let me fucking tell you, there was a line in this book that made me drop my kindle and GUFFAW in shock. page 88, HELLO. evelyn girl you kill me.

the drift by c. j. tudor [★★★]

"These days death had been laid bare for what it really was. An ending. Often brutal, seldom fair, rarely kind."

: ̗̀➛ a thriller-esque, horror-esque book about a deadly infectious virus, and the attempted survival of three seperate groups trapped in isolated circumstances in the icy wilderness. [this one is so hard to describe sorry]

: ̗̀➛ the book is told through three different pov's. i normally despise this but i actually didn't hate it in this case, although i did have favourites.

: ̗̀➛ boyfriend asked me to read this when he finished it and then watched me from across the room the almost whole time, pretending not to be staring whenever i looked up. and he was right, it was fast-paced, had some good twists and turns, and was enjoyable, albeit very different from what i normally read.

what have i done? an honest memoir about surviving post-natal mental illness by laura dockrill [★★★★]

"Put me out of my misery. I feel like a killer on the loose. I need to turn myself in."

"Or the one of New Mum having champagne and cake with the girls. Another doing 'date night' two weeks before her six-week check, like, 'Yes, we still have sex!' Mum is fitting back into her clothes; Mum is making papier-mâché piggy banks; drinking enough water; shaving her armpits; reading a bedtime story; going to a gig; playing peekaboo. Mum is keeping up with her favourite TV shows; reading the Booker longlist; being a good friend; making a healthy yet tasty cost-effective-probably-vegan meal; recycling; giving baby massage; sterilising. Mum is getting rid of her pregnancy knickers when they are the only knickers she truly likes; doing her taxes; walking the dog; donating to charity; freezing bananas; learning Japanese because why not? ... Oh look! Mum is abseiling down the Shard and still finding the time to express and write a blog about the whole experience."

: ̗̀➛ a memoir about a first-time mum's experience with post-partum psychosis, and her survival.

: ̗̀➛ this book was a heart-ache of a read. honest and raw and devastating and uplifting. often very very funny -- "People told Hugo, 'Don't go down the goal end, mate; it's like watching your favourite pub burn down.' Oh ha. Ha. Ha." -- i couldn't put it down.

: ̗̀➛ the end did start to feel a touch self-helpy which isn't necessarily my bag of tricks when it comes to non-fiction, but those inclusions felt warranted and fair after such an in-depth depiction of everything laura had gone through.

: ̗̀➛ serious mental health trigger warnings for this one. there is plenty of humour, but it gets very dark.

the death of jane lawrence by caitlin starling [★★]

"She dreamed of tearing out a rotted pit inside of him where his martyrdom resided."

: ̗̀➛ in an alternate version of victorian-era britain, jane shoringfield is seeking a marriage of convenience that will allow her to continue working, with all the benefits of being a married woman, and she finds this in dr augustine lawrence. however, he has one condition - she can never visit lindridge hall, his family manor outside of town, where he himself will sleep each and every night. but on their wedding night, an accident strands jane at the door in a rainstorm, and in place of her husband she finds a terrified, paranoid man who cannot tell reality from nightmare. by morning he is himself again, but jane knows something is terribly wrong at lindridge hall.

: ̗̀➛ i picked this up looking for a fun, spooky little read, but am sad to say that i absolutely did not like it. the characters were fickle, the plot twists were unsurprising and revealed poorly, and the storyline was all over the place. sadge!

: ̗̀➛ sold itself as a gothic ghost horror, but didn't live up to that at all [for me!] heavily inspired by crimson peak, and it doesn't care if you know it.

: ̗̀➛ also - when your 'independent strong female' mc marries a guy who lies constantly and makes up bullshit and every time she confronts him he boo-hoos so she forgives him immediately cause he really is a nice man?? womp womp.

: ̗̀➛ also also - way more cocaine in this than i expected.

my book rating system is as follows:

★ = i felt pure contempt the entire time

★★ = yeah it's a book

★★★ = i liked it!

★★★★ = good fucking book, damn

★★★★★ = blew my dick clean off and i'll throw a tantrum if everyone i know doesn't also read it and love it

if you want to share a book you love with me, please do! i am always looking out for new recs.

[hopeaterart]

Okay, longer post on how I think 600 Strikes should've gone.

Okay, so full disclaimer before I start: I ADORE Epic: The Musical. I found out about it thanks to my sister showing me Monster, and I've been hyped for the release of every following Saga. It's what got me to start writing my own Greek Myth fic! The Vengeance Saga is no exception: all of it was a banger. My least favorite song of the lot wasn't even the one this post is about: it was 'Not Sorry for Loving You' (I don't. ljke Calypso). 600 Strikes, especially with the second half, is actually one of my favorite songs of the concept album.

HOWEVER, I've stated in my last post that the second half should've gone like THIS ↓

And I stand by this.

Now, before I really start, I don't actually imagine Poseidon taunting Odysseus with words. More like, laughing madly at him while he has a breakdown about what he's become. Full on Joker from Batman cackle. Poseidon is a violent misanthrope at best, and an insane maniac at worst.

Now, onto my first point: Poseidon is a god. And until Six Hundred Strikes, gods in Epic were portrayed as being insurmountable. I really liked that. I know that other people liked that. And having Poseidon remain unmoved even as Odysseus tortures him is would've really driven that in.

Just... imagine it: Odysseus has done what very few have done and bested a god. Still, the Lord of Tides refuses to lift up the storm, spitting him to the last moment. He's got no choice but to resort to drastic measures, and everything- the pain, the frustration, the hatred, both toward himself and the god- come spilling out as he stabs him with his own weapon over and over and over again.

He's throwing his words back in his face, making sure that Poseidon knows: every ounce of pain that Odysseus inflicts on him can be traced back to his own damn actions. But Poseidon isn't begging for mercy, or trying to retain a shred of dignity by gritting his teeth and enduring. He's goading him on. He's taunting him, he's laughing at him. He's laughing.

And why wouldn't he? He's done it, after all. He got what he wanted. Odysseus of Ithaca, the arrogant mortal who refused to finish the job, is no more. Only a ruthless, broken monster remains. One who's earned the right to get back to his kingdom.

("With everything you've done, how will you sleep at night?" becomes less of an attempt at getting the last word in, and more of a genuine curiosity.)

Now, my second point: it would muddy who, exactly, between Odysseus and Poseidon, who ends up getting their revenge. Now, in the actual musical, it's obviously Odysseus, and he deserves the win. The man has done nothing but take Ls since the Cyclops Saga, he deserves a W before making it back to Ithaca.

In canon, Poseidon is very much not pleased with how things end up turning out. But if Poseidon had been pleased with Odysseus

Physically- well, it's still Odysseus. He brought Poseidon to his knees with a windbag, his own storm, and the ghosts of his entire fleet. And then, he picks up his own trident and goes to absolute town on him. Even if Poseidon is happy about getting his shit rocked , he's still getting his shit rocked.

But philosophically? I'd argue that Poseidon is the winner here.

For the entirety of Act 1, Odysseus believes in Open Arms (RIP Polites) and to his credit, it does work. First with the Lotus Eaters to find more food (even if it led him right to Polyphemus, they are high as balls), and then Circe to save his men. He also doesn't get to see it, but it's also more or less what happens between Telemachus and Athena, which eventually leads to his freedom from Calypso. Shit, the one time he decides to use it in Act 2, it nearly works on Poseidon himself in Get in the Water! The problem is that the world isn't always kind, and sometimes, it'll react to open arms by stabbing you in the chest. Just look at what happened with the cyclops.

Meanwhile, Poseidon believes in Ruthlessness. And being ruthless has served Odysseus very well: the Trojan Horse, killing the infant to save his family, also Circe to save his men (before she pulled out the Other Ways lmao), neutralizing the Sirens, the sacrifice for Scylla, even sacrificing his own crew to stay alive. The problem is that both of these characters confuse being ruthless with being cruel, and that's what fucks Odysseus over.

Oh well. Being ruthless and cruel was just what Odysseus needed to deal with Poseidon. And it's what will get him through the suitors, so he can finally reunite with his son and wife.

Lesson learned.

(Also, Athena is Odysseus' mentor, and a well-documented thing in actual Greek Myth (and sadly untouched in the musical even if I understand why) is that Poseidon and Athena do not like each other. Documented rivals. What happens is that he successfully sank his claws in her abandoned pupil, and twisted Odysseus into a monster that would horrify his past self even before Open Arms. In the face of spitting his least favorite niece like that, getting repeatedly stabbed was absolutely worth it)

[changbinsboobs]

pls do chan tea session how he views his teammates? thanks very much!

Omg y'all THIS has been the reading we've all been waiting for😭🙌🏻🙌🏻😂 i swear i couldn't stop gasping and tacking a moment after each card to gather myself cuz WTF IS ALL THIS😂😳🫣 yk i did a tea/vent reading with changbin a few weeks ago and i thought its gonna be a banger but we couldn't get one "bad word" out of his mouth - he wasn't serving AT ALL😤 and i got a bit discouraged to continue the series but im so happy i did and did it with CHAN cuz my guys's spilling so much😂 tbh idk what i think of it all and if i agree, in fact i was quite shocked at a few cuz i really did bot expect such answers and i pulled several cards as confirmation and it all pointed painfully obvious to what the first card was already showing. So im just gonna start and ya'll are gonna see foe yourselfs😂

Oh also my tea series was initially not really meant to be focused on the group but more in general but at least with the last reading with changbin i found it difficult to take such a vast field of topics and distill it so if you have suggestions on what else they could have things to vent about or tea to spill send ask. Please be specific tho about something specific that interests you / preferably with a specific member:) ok moving on

Ok not really i forgot to mention that i asked about his opinion on the members WITHOUT FILTER and leaning more on the tea side. So, very important - this is not Chan's absolute opinion on the members, but a small, "scandalous" fraction if the opinion he has build on them over the years. It doesn't mean that this is all he thinks of them - remember humans are complex beings and can have conflicting thoughts and feelings:)

Tea Series: Chan's opinion on the members

Lee Know

I was SHOCKED but he kinda thinks of him as a bit of a dumbo. Not in the sense that he really is stupid but to Chan it looks like he's just a bit out of it and there's a vibe of a whole geoup laughing about a joke that lee know doesn't get, and not necessarily cuz he's stupid, its just he doesn't care to get it😂😭 this baffles him and im actually seeing a similar energy with him regarding lee know as i did with changbin in the previous reading where Chan just feels a bit weirded out by lee know at times and just sometimes gets annoyed cuz he just doesn't understand him. Yk how people are disgusted/scared by spider no reason? This is something similar, it just icks him how he cant understand lee know. He accepts it tho, more than changbin for sure. And im feeling that its actually even charming to him sometimes. Im hearing "a genius dumbo". So yeah, they're very different apparently, and to chan lee know just seems way waaayyy out of the circle, way above it all, way to out of it and he doesn't even want to get in and that BAFFLES him so much!

Changbin

This one's not hot at all, im seeing this pile along with felix's being the most melow ones. So I see that chan really sees changbin as his equal, possibly the only guy in the group he sees as one. Not in the way that others are below him but rather he's to the same level of matureness, toughness, headspace etc according to him (not that i agree😂). He views him as a bro and really enjoys spending time with him and "talking like men" or whatever its called😂 im actually seeing them going out for drinks or having late night talks with some strong alcohol (although im not really seeing chan drinking very hard i think the alcohol's more for changbin to loosen his tongue and for both of them to feel like adult men😂🙌🏻) Also another thing thats coming up which made me laugh is that chan thinks changbins bad at love and always has bad luck in it (and is kinda a simp) and he(cb) should learn a thing or two from him(chan). This gives me such huge sleepover vibes i live it so much - all of chans readings have that feeling to it and im always giggling when reading his energy😂💗 So yeah im also seeing them having lots of chats about women too🌝 and...sex👀👀👀 but for that i think it needs to be a bit deeper in the night and the bottle should be close to empty for that conversation to open. But it does, pretty often (not often like every other day but often only within their "meetings" so if they have a hangout every other months, and have had 6 this year, in 4 out of 6 this conversation happens - thats what i mean by often).

Hyunjin

Fo hyunjin he thinks he's very impulsive and very pushy but on the inside(?). He also thinks he's very appreciation hungry and attention greedy. Not attention whore-y tho (contrary to han), but rather ifjgkkf like someone who lives for the applause. Someone who's a performer. Not only on stage but also in private. I think he thinks that hyunjin's actually a bit insecure (not the kind of looks-insecurity, but the primal one like having security in your own being and the person who you are, having trust that you got ur own back) and that he's compensating that insecurity with others validation and admiration. And if he doesn't get that or feels like he doesn't he gets spiky/prickly. And thats where his impulsivity comes up and where this pushy energy happens. He may behave normal on the outside but on the inside he's going crazy and thinking of all the ways he can fix that and if you spend time with him long enough you begin to see that eagerness and spikiness - according to chan.

Han

According to chan he's pretty isolated and a tad bit odd. Probably thats why he gets along with lee know the best. He's also a bit infantile in chans eyes, like an annoying 12 year old fortnite little cousing that spits when he speaks and knows now personal space. Not saying hans like that - just creating a vibe to describe how he feels to chan sometimes😂 idk if nuisance is the right word but im getting the feeling that when 3racha's doing their thing, hans kind of the odd one out and he can see that han wants to belong and tries to but chan feels like he's that little cousin that wants to hang out with the cool old bros and, yeah sometimes feels liek a bit of a nuisance i would say. Cuz chan does include him, when he maybe would not. I could see that being a theme during their time in the 4/4 dorms. And here's the part i mentioned above - i think chan might view han sometimes like an attention-wh*re, making a clown of himself, and embarrassing himself quite offten to appeal to them or maybe others he fancies and wants to impress. Another thing is, that as i said he might be a bit odd and at times overexcert his boundaries? Or have weird boundaries? Like he hates when people touch his blanket or he only has to wear orange socks and if someone put the laundry and forgot one of his sock and now only one's clean he gets really pissed over nothing - stuff of that sort.

Felix

I would say thats the only pile where he had nothing "bad" to say about him and i pulled 4 cards for him cuz there had to be something - but there wasn't so i guess chan really really likes Felix and holds him in very high regards☺️ he thinks that he is muchs tronger than he looks and can defend himself and his loved ones very well. In fact i believe when chan saw this side of him he was really shocked because felix seems really sweet but when it comes to protecting what he loves he gets very fierce and that was very shocking to witness. Theres just admiration, admiration and more admiration in this reading he thinks felix has that royalty vibe to himself and really just has it all. Im getting a slight whiff of jealousy, but a friendly type of jealousy. Like he just thinks he's so amazing and sometime she wishes he were like that. He wishes he were as cool as him, as lighthearted as him, as bright and positive as him, he were as liked by him and i also feel like chan feels that stuff may often be just very effortless for felix and even if he's bad at something its still with grace. Theres this aura to felix that he can never do anything wrong and he just sometimes feels that felix has it too easy and must be really lucky or like gods favourite and thinks he must have really good karma for that.

Seungmin

He thinks seungmins too sharp and that his words hurt. Im also seeing lots of bickering...no actually fights. So either chan often gets the urge to just throw it all and start a fight with him or drop the manners and just tell him off - or they actually do that often. I do get the feeling that this is exaggerated in his head and that maybe to seungmin their fights aren't nearly as bad but once again i feel like chan might be holding back a lot and seungmin might'be much sharper and meaner for others than he thinks he is.

I.N

Finally the last one😮‍💨 he thinks he's a mamas boy and sees him still as a kid. That one's pretty obvious but to be honest i expected something else cuz im getting a much maturer energy from him, the other guys have said that too but still, here im getting that he's just a kid and doesnt know "of the real world", relies too much on mom and dad etc. Tbh i don't think thats the case😂 but rather that chans having a bit of a parent syndrom where he actaully feels like i.ns big bro or some sort of a parent figure or whatever and he literary watched him grow from a child to a man so i think that image of him from a few years back has stayed with chan and maybe its difficult for him to let go of that impression if i.n being still just a little kid being full of wonder, innocent and still dependant.

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

Intercity Relations (An Arcane one-shot)

Description: Spending years studying Interstate relations at Piltover's academy, you made both allies and rivals during your studies. Unlucky for you, Cassandra Kiramman hated your guts ever since you first met. The woman ensured you'd never see Ixtal or Shumira but rather serve as an intercity negotiator between Zaun and Piltover.

Pairing: Vander x afab!reader, NSFW, the reader being born and raised in Piltover™ (so expect some cultural differences, mostly Vander teasing the reader very lovingly). Warnings: I did my best to go over all the typos, but some certainly made it through. The entire 'plot' just for the sake of convenience, age difference (reader being around 25, Vander should be pushing 40 - the math doesn't add up, fuck it), should be set one year after Vander became a dad™, so we aren't in any rush, vile language, mentions of violence and substance abuse. Also, unprotected sex - don't be silly, wrap your willy! The smut is very gentle tho, very loving and fluffy. Jayce and Ezreal being supportive golden retriever besties™. Subtle Jayce and Viktor shenanigans (will miss if you squint your eyes). A/N: I wanted to write something for Vander for so so so long, but never got the inspiration. Three years after the release of Arcane, I finally made my long-lasting dream come true. It's also my first smut after a long time, so I hope you won't find it clunky and lame. Enjoy reading! Music inspo: Mainly by Seven (Jung Kook), Love Again (stolen from Ezreal's playlist, performed by Baekhyun), Moonlight by Kali Uchis & The Weekend by BIBI & 88rising. Word count: 21K (and I fucking ooop-) Music playlist: ezreal's bedroom bangers

The politics and schemes of Piltover's creme of society never ceased to surprise you. That position should've been yours. Heimerdinger more or less confirmed it a week ago - you should've been the negotiator between Shurima and Piltover regarding business and foreseeable Noxian invasion. The Yordle quite literally said you were the 'best suited' for such negotiations, that he'd realized it soon after you started your studies. From the get-go, it was supposed to be you who'd end up with this position. Truth be told, however, the council members despised you for all they got. You weren't some high-class Nancy who'd flatter them with expensive gifts and false compliments - but you were fucking good at negotiating. You were the best of your class. It wasn't Kacey who could barely tie her own shoelaces or God forbid Damien, who had trouble remembering even the most basic negotiation principles. It was you.

Studying at the Academy was an honor, you were aware of that. Your family poured everything into securing your spot there, which you were endlessly grateful for. The Academy gave you a better chance at life than you'd otherwise get. Being a middle-class Piltoverian wasn't as bad, per se, but it wasn't a win either. Anyone in your family knew what poverty or starvation was, had money for medicine and nice clothes, quality food, and your flat just outside downtown wasn't bad either, but you didn't plan on taking after your mother's hat shop. Making hats wasn't a bad hobby, both you and your brother enjoyed creating new designs and spending time with momma, but it didn't fulfill you.

It could be around your 10th birthday when you announced you'd like to be a diplomat one day. Your mom and older brother scoffed at it - no way a small child would aim to be a diplomat, right? Most kids wanted to be princesses or singers, they didn't want to deal with interstate relations. But... The phase never went away. It was clear as day that you weren't aiming for anything else as your fifteenth birthday rolled around - you kept up good grades, went to debate classes, and traveled to Holdrum and Kumangra to take part in various debate competitions; you didn't win all of them, but your arguments always left the jurors in awe. When you were leaving high school, it was recommended for you to apply for the Academy's scholarship.

At that moment your mom finally cracked and said 'Fine, let's give it a shot'. The tender was as enjoyable as could be, there were other excellent kids after your spot at the Academy, after all. It took numerous tryouts and evaluations - the Academy first accounted for your past academic achievements, then came assessment interviews, then various intelligence tests, ending it all with a few rounds of debates. Some of those were nearly nerve-crushing. When you were informed of getting the scholarship, you were also informed about all the strict rules you'd have to obey - starting with a strict dress code, frequent one-on-one evaluations with the dean of your faculty, and ending with oddly specific dorm and library rules.

During the matriculation, you'd meet your best friend for the few following years - he came fashionably late (presumably sleeping in), barging into the dead-silent hall with his clothes hastily put on, his hair a fucking mess. As the boy stood on the stairway (looking like a deer in the headlights), the rector stuttered, watching the latecomer with matching intensity. Leaning over to the boy, you'd grab his sleeve and force him to sit next to you. Honestly, you liked Jayce ever since you first laid your eyes on him. If there was a definition of conventionally attractive, Jayce was it - hazel colored eyes, a bright smile full of straight teeth, clean-shaven face, a perfect haircut that was taken care of (gell and everything), and built like a fucking mountain with his 6'7 in height, as you'd learn later. His facial features were very pleasurable to look at. As you said - Jayce was the 'it'.

"I really thought this ceremony starts at 10 a.m... Two weeks from now." - The man mumbled to you, putting his bag down next to his seat. As he leaned closer to you over, the smell of some nice and surely very expensive cologne tingled in your nose. "They changed it last week on a whim, probably to avoid the matriculation overlapping with Progress Day. Wouldn't know about it if I wasn't moved into dorm already." "Makes enough sense. Did I miss something important?" "Something something, the great future, Piltover, something something, you are our new hope. Something along these lines." - You repeated, chuckling at yourself. Your brother always told you you were fucking horrendous at making friends, but the latecomer seemed to appreciate your sense of humor. Smirking at you, he licked his lips and offered you his palm under the table.

"Name's Jayce Talis." - The guy whispered, feeling as your palm slipped into his. His skin was nicely warm and so soft. A rich Piltie, you assumed. - "What's yours?" "Y/N Y/L/N." - Whispering back, you shook hands, still grinning at one another. - "Hi." "Oh, doesn't your family run a hat shop or something? Mrs. Kiramman loves that place to death, had to endure a fashion show of her and her daughter's hats tailored according to the latest fashion trends in Ixtal." - Jayce wondered, clearly memorizing the lane by heart.

"Yeah, I helped make these. My mom runs it. I was supposed to take over the shop when she'd feel like she couldn't do it anymore." - You explained swiftly, completely forgetting why you two were sitting in the hall. - "You know councilor Kiramman? The Cassandra Kiramman?" "Mhm." - The Jayce guy nodded, showing you dimples in his cheeks. He was getting hotter by the second. - "Also know the dean." "The dean?" - You squirmed, shooting him an amazed look. - "Are you like a child of some super-important politician?" "No. I just know how to make good childhood friends." "Geez. I had to fight for a way in." "My mom had been dead set on my future since day one. Surely, if Cait was a few years older, they'd even arrange our marriage." - Jayce scoffed, turning his eyes to the dean, a Yordle named Heimerdinger. - "How did you fight your way in? Gladiator style, cage match, blood, sand, and everything?" - He muttered, making you snicker as you pretended to listen to the speech. The matriculation had almost two hours of runtime, so you still had an hour and a half ahead of you.

"More of a streetfight style - who'd beat up the most kids to pulp won the scholarship." "Sounds way more exciting than just getting in because you have a rich friend." "I don't think that's the case." - With a smile, you bumped his rib with your elbow. - "Councilor Heimerdinger doesn't seem to be the type to just let anyone study here. We're Piltover's future, aren't you listening to his words? There's gotta something in that noggin' of yours." "I don't think you'd be the type to beat kids into pulps either. Actually, you look like someone I'd love to be friends with. Truthfully, I don't know anyone else inside the Academy, which terrifies me. I'm not a rich kid and I'm not good at talking to these rich assholes." "Didn't you say you're tight with the Kirammans?" "Caitlyn is anything but a rich asshole. She runs her mouth faster than her brain, bless her soul. Sometimes, she blows Mrs. Kiramman out of the water, leaving me speechless. If I were to talk to her mother like this, my mom would lock me up in a cellar until I'd apologize." "Your mom isn't like..." "No." - Jayce ended the discussion categorically. Since he didn't seem to like the topic, you hummed and nodded. "For your information, I think I'd be able to beat up that kid." - Pointing at a veiny, super-skinny ginger with glasses sitting two rows in front of you. - "... But I'm keener on logic and words, you got me there. Nonetheless, I'll take your words as a compliment, Talis. I'd like to... Be friends, I mean." "Lunch after?" - Jayce asked simply, pulling out a paper and a pen on his desk. First, you were concerned; was he about to take notes? Surely not, right? Then, he looked over at you with one of the most devilish grins you'd seen until that day. - "And tick-tack-toe now?" "God, you're already my best friend, Talis." - Without hesitation, you started to draw the playing board, sticking your tongue out of your mouth due to sheer concentration.

As promised, the two of you would set out to have lunch after the assembly, talking about everything and nothing. Talis was a great company - charming, funny, witty, and handsome. What he saw in you? No idea, but the two of you clicked right away. Even after years, you couldn't decipher what Jayce saw in you. The field of your research and studies were as different as could be, so you usually didn't dwell too much on such topics. Of course, you asked 'How are the studies going?' but it was never the centerpiece of your conversation. While you dealt with human relations, Jayce was a scientist, working with some miraculous blue stone (no idea what that was about). It only took a week to realize you'd found the best friend for the few following years. On the very second day, Talis showed you around his workshop, designating it as your hangout spot outside the faculty - it was a small maisonette with an enormous balcony and a very tiny bathroom. The upper floor was holding a bed and a couch. Since it also had a small fridge, you could just buy some beers and snacks for late-night study sessions and screw the dorm.

This friendship seemed fishy. People like Jayce Talis (attractive, genius, and charming) usually didn't seek company with the likes of you. Piltover was just a rat race, people climbing on the social ladders, striving for a better life. Jayce, on the other hand, didn't seem to be that guy. It seemed like he genuinely doesn't give a fuck. Also, Caitlyn Kiramman liked you, ensuring she'd like you even if you'd crawl out of the deepest part of the Undercity. Just as Jayce informed you, Cait's mouth ran much faster than her brain. You found this part of Kiramman endearing. Even though Talis sent you nothing but good vibes to you, it was hard to just accept this pure form of friendship. It took him around a week and a half to truly convince you he isn't hanging out with you for some insane, out-of-this-world reason. The guy simply liked being around you. That was also the first time Jayce sang and danced around you while studying in his condo - he was an awful singer.

Keeping the promise, you'd gather early the following Monday, ready to celebrate Progress Day. The festival was kicked off with yet another of Heimer's speeches (of which you and Talis appropriately made fun; nothing mean, just stupid jokes here and there). The rest of the day was in your hands - and dear God, you had a lot to wander through. Various attractions from all around the world, newest inventions, doubtful souvenirs, and snack stands... You simply loved the Progress Day. As you absentmindedly licked on your ice-creams, a boy stopped you. Neither of you could know that this particular man will soon be the last member of your party.

While also being very good-looking, the boy couldn't be more different from Jayce. He was around your age and based on his uniform, he was too a student at the Academy. His blonde hair was stylized perfectly, his blue eyes were piercing, you'd swear you hadn't seen clearer skin before and his facial features resembled those of a sculpture or a painting. He'd been considerably shorter than Jayce, but equally as handsome... Also, he was visibly distressed.

"Uh, hi you two. Hi. How you doin'?." - The boy greeted you, shaking your hand loosely as he fidgeted around, looking over his shoulders. You were pretty positive the stranger didn't even look you in the face before gripping your hand. "Hi?" - You asked, furrowing at him. He'd been shaking your hand for over a minute, still searching for something in the crowd... Or someone. - "Do you need something?" "I'm in a bit of trouble. Hi." - The boy jumped over to shake Jayce's hand frantically. - "Could you help me? It won't take long." "What can we do for you?" - Jayce asked. You've been both grinning by that point. The boy's behavior was funny. "I'm trying to run away from my blind date. She's been going on a tangent about how we 'belong together even in the heavens' and that I must be the guy her 'oracle saw in the tarot cards'."

"That sounds scary." - Jayce admitted, carefully twisting his palm from the stranger's grasp. The blonde boy, however, didn't seem to notice as he still looked around for his blind date. - "What do you say, Y/N? I'd be pretty scared if you pulled out a stunt like that." "I was just about to get to what my oracle said about you, Talis, but I mean... It sounds like the start of a horror story. I'm down to whatever." "Geez, you guys are the best and I mean that. My name's Ezreal, by the way."

When Ez piped down a bit and wasn't searching for the mysterious oracle girl, he was good company. As you walked through the main square and adjacent streets, he explained that he was studying history at the Academy and that you were in the same year. His parents were archeologists who traveled all over Runeterra so he was often left in Piltover under the care of his uncle, famous professor Lymere. That's how Ezreal got into the Academy anyway - quoting Ezreal, 'it definitely wasn't his intellectual prowess'. The guy was in awe when Jayce also invited Ezreal to his convo to share some beers while waiting for the fireworks to go off. Even though he seemed to be a social butterfly, Ezreal admitted people didn't stick around for long, often calling him 'annoying' or 'difficult to be around'; Jayce's invitation genuinely moved him. That's how you met your two best friends in the whole wide world.

The three of you were so different that you completed each other. You've been the most grounded in reality - studying political situations and people gave you a good insight into the world around you. If the two boys felt like arguing with someone, you were their person - you could go on for hours, debating like your life depended on it, beating them with facts grounded in reality.

Ezreal, on the other hand, was the dreamer and romantic. Boy, oh boy, his romantic endeavors were something - each week, you'd have to commiserate and listen to him obsessing over a different girl. You and Jayce would be the first to know all the details about his latest miserable breakup and future plans. He'd been prone to dramatize and exaggerate. Also, while being street-smart and intelligent (to a degree), Ezreal could come across as very naive and innocent. It was fun watching him not having a clue about his romantic interest's innuendos or hints, ignoring it all like the sweet summer child he was. You'd seen a lot of his romantic failures, if you had to be honest - the boy often invited you and Jayce for hangouts with his newest discovery (secretly hoping to set you up), and at times, you had to do your best not to start hysterically laughing right into his face. You loved Ezreal.

Jayce was the scientist of your group - he'd constantly lived in the world of wonder, progress, and inventions, constantly building towards a better future. His grind never stopped for anything. You and Ezreal would listen to his drunken rambles about how he'll change the world one day - you liked to believe Jayce. His dreams sounded nice. Despite Ezreal's best hopes, the two of you never hit it off - there was never a spark of romantic interest between you. Jayce often joked he didn't have time for romance, but if he would, he'd definitely ask you out - at that, you'd laugh and say 'Stop keeping your damn hopes up, this ain't happening, Talis'. Anytime you'd bump into something you didn't understand or felt emotionally vulnerable and wanted to share with someone, Jayce became your go-to person. His condo became the party's designed hangout spot, so you'd spend most of your Academy days there, watching over Piltover with dumb smiles.

All and all, you couldn't ask for better friends.

It was also this duo that expected your acceptance letter with batted breath alongside you. As usual, you'd barge into his condo. The two were talking before Ezreal raised his eyes to you frantically waving the letter around. Before you barged in, Ezreal was leaning over Jayce's shoulder (talking about Rachel... Again) and watched as the scientist connected wires in his latest contraption.

You and Jayce graduated earlier this summer, actually. Jayce, as you expected, finished his studies with a red diploma. You'd expect him to move out of Piltover, and work on his tech in collaboration with scientists from the other states - to your surprise, the man chose to work under the science faculty of the Academy. Ezreal, on the other hand, had to retake two classes - maths and geography of Runeterra... Despite all odds, this was a major success in your books. He'd been expecting to retake at least four. "It's here, bozos." - You announced, demanding their full attention. Ezreal straightened up, walking closer to you - Jayce just turned around in his chair and waited for you to start reading. "I'm sure it's Shurima. Like, 100% positive. Heimer talked about you enthusiastically last week, Y/N. I've heard it all." - Coach Ezreal mumbled supportively while walking behind you to massage your shoulders. As he patted your shoulder, you nodded at his words and let out a huge sigh before tearing the envelope outside. You had to be the next Piltoverian diplomat. It had to be you. It was always supposed to be you.

"Dear Ms. Y/N Y/L/N." - The letter started. - "It is a pleasure to welcome you on board our organization as the newest foreign service specialist. That's a good sign, no?" - You took a breath in, looking at both the boys; your fingers were trembling, breath shallow. "Jesus, don't stop in the middle of the letter!" - Ez exclaimed with a furrow. "Just go on." - Jayce mumbled, hanging on your lips. "Due to exceeding the number of current foreign specialists in the field, we are pleased to announce your new position as the official negotiator between the two states of Piltover and Zaun... Your accommodation in the state of Zaun will be... In case of unclarities, please contact..." - The blood in your veins froze as you read more and more. - "... Are you fucking kidding me?"

"Oh no..." - Ezreal sighed softly, his expression sagging as he watched tears forming in your eyes. You could barely breathe, your fingers shaking, your heart beating rapidly. You've never felt more betrayed in your life - this should've been your fucking moment to spread your wings and leave Piltover. You were supposed to explore the world just like you and Ezreal dreamed. You've been supposed to take part in negotiations between nations and... - "It's okay." "It's not okay!" - Both the boys' hearts broke upon seeing you break down, squealing at the top of your lungs. - "I've worked so fucking hard and everything..." - Jayce offered you an empty bottle so you could break it by throwing it on the ground, letting the anger out. It was better to clean up some mess than see you in ruins. - "... And that bitch, that old foul hag, that fucking snake!" - (Another bottle) - "I've always known she wouldn't fucking let me go. The moment I met her during my evaluations, I knew she hated me." - (Another bottle) - "To her bad fucking luck, Heimerdinger liked me, so she couldn't just get rid of me." - Your hand stretched out for another bottle, but Jayce stopped you. "I don't think she dislikes you..." - Talis approached you from behind, carefully massaging your shoulder. - "I just think something's going on in Zaun. The council would have someone who lived here their whole life and can trust as their diplomat, rather than someone who's not oriented in the problems and dynamics."

"Hey, I gotta repeat that geography class just because I looked at the professor funny. No one even wants to employ me." - Ezreal spoke slowly and softly, smiling at you. Grinning at his statement, you started to dry out your tears. "You gotta repeat it because the professor found out you're fooling around with his daughter." "Ehh... Maybe, but that's not the point." - Ezreal giggled, smoothing your shoulder. - "Listen, Y/N, you're the smartest and prettiest girl I know. You're able to inspire people, talk them through everything, and argue for hours when it comes down to it. And... The Undercity's not that bad, really. I know a few dudes selling fun stuff. I can introduce you to some of them to get you started?" "Ezreal..." - It was a high-pitched whine as you hugged him, letting out a long breath. His words made you emotional, moving you until you felt a fuzzy warmth spreading inside your chest.

"But... If I'm the prettiest girl you know, why didn't you ask me out yet?" - You joked, giggling. Being transferred to the Undercity wasn't all bad. It had its advantages - you'd stay close to your family and best friends. You didn't have to hope you'd bump into each other once a year, you could see them anytime you wanted. You'd be on hand in case your ma or bro needed help with the hat shop. You didn't have to leave your old life behind. "Because I respect you too much to let you fool around with someone like me." - The blonde sighed, hugging you back. Jayce was already on cleaning duty, brewing you all a cup of hot cocoa. It was exactly what you needed, in his expert opinion. As usual, Jayce was right. "... It's because you know I'd see right through your bullshit, right?" "... Yeah, you got me there, girl."

Two weeks later:

The Undercity was definitely not what you'd expect. First things first, it smelled horrible - when you talked to the lady who was introducing you to the issues at hand, she warned you about the possibility of wearing a mask. The Grey (fumes from factories located in the Underbelly) was making the air heavy. So far, so good; while the place reeked, it never got too bad. Secondly, the people didn't cut your head off when meeting you. The Trenchers were indifferent when it came to you; it was clear as day you weren't native to Zaun, but they didn't care much. The number of Enforcers traveling to Zaun was actually quite impressive. You've been worried you'd have to fight for your life, but just like Ezreal promised, Zaun wasn't that bad. Thirdly, your newly assigned condo and monthly payment were good. It gave you enough financial freedom to be fully self-sufficient, which felt simply wonderful. People from the agency acted respectfully towards you, putting weight on Jayce's words; maybe it was a last-minute decision to assign you to Zaun. Maybe, something was brewing on the horizon.

Your assigned informant from the agency told you to ask for Sheriff Grayson of the Piltover's Enforcers. If she knows who's the authority in Lanes, she could introduce you to them and get you accustomed. The problem with Zaun was simple - the city wanted independence from Piltover. If you wanted proof, all you had to do was to take the last riot into account. Your job was to secure a fool-proof plan that would benefit both parties while not degrading either. Well, with Piltover's attitude towards Zaun, that ask turned into a whole another pain in the ass, you realized fairly soon-ish.

Sheriff Grayson turned out to be a reasonable, charming woman with a lot of wisdom regarding both sides of the conflict; she referred to someone named 'Vander', the man who had a reputation and respect among the Zaunites. Ezreal wasn't aware of anyone named Vander, but he knew a black-market trader named Benzo. The blonde swore that if anyone knew Vander, it would be his dealer. "You look like you're acclimatizing fairly well." - The boy brought up as you locked the door to your condo, leaving to see Benzo. - "How is Zaun treating you?" "Hm... It's not as bad as I'd assume, no one tried stabbing me so far." - It was a bad joke, but Ez chuckled nonetheless. Walking down the stairs, your elbow mindlessly entwined with his as usual. You were happy Ezreal came to visit you in the Lanes. Throughout the last week, you've only talked to Sheriff Grayson and your sweet land lady who also had dementia.- "I'm just... Lonely. The two of you are living on the other side of Sun Canal. Getting over that damn bridge is hard, even for a diplomat. That said, the folk are more or less nice around here. They don't welcome me with arms wide open, but they're polite so far."

"Sounds like you'll get used to living here before you know it. You'd get along even with someone as demonic as old prof Lymere, on my honor." "Your uncle sounds like a tough nut. I appreciate the trust, though, young Mr. Lymere. Big preach." "After you, m'lady Y/L/N." - Ezreal exclaimed dramatically, holding the front door open for you; he even bowed, having you giggle under your breath.

Seeing Zaun through Ezreal's eyes was fascinating. The blonde definitely spent a lot of time here, knowing most of the small shops and dark alleys you wouldn't dare to go to alone. As you walked through the Lanes, he told you the history of it all; how Zaun came to be, what were its most historically significant locations, and a bit about their culture (Ezreal described it as 'pretty grim' and moved on). Benzo's pawn shop was located just off the main street - it wasn't in any grim alley where you wouldn't go in a million years or anything like that - it was a pretty nice place if you'd have to be honest. Sure, most of the goods were giving 'not acquired legally' vibes, but that wasn't your jurisdiction, so you didn't bother commenting on it. Benzo himself wasn't a bad person either, you liked him. After Ezreal introduced you, the atmosphere even shifted to a lighthearted meeting of two acquaintances. A small boy was slacking around the pawn shop, goggling his enormous brown eyes at you, but Benzo soon sent him away.

"At least, he'll have something to tell the other nuisances about." - Benzo sighed, clearly referring to other children growing up in the Lanes. - "Young Mr. Lymere. What do I owe the pleasure?" "I'm not here for business today, Benzo. My friend needs a bit of help." "Ah, really? And what can I do for the young lady? Anything particular she's looking for?" "Not something, but someone. She's not... Interested in buying, if you will." - Ezreal explained as he played with various trinkets lying around the shop. You didn't want to talk until you'd be introduced, so you simply stood around and watched the exchange. - "Y/N was sent here by the council." - In that instant, Benzo's demeanor switched to hostile for a bit. "Ah, wonderful." - The man gritted with a forced smile. - "What do these jerks need?" "I'm here to handle diplomatic communications between Piltover and Zaun. Seems like the council finally considered Zaun's declaration of independence, the one that happened a year ago. I'm here to ensure things go as smoothly as they can. I mean no harm."

Benzo watched you with a furrow, thinking about his answer. Ezreal leaned into the counter with a mischievous smile on his lips. - "Y/N is one of the best people I've met, Benzo, I can vouch for her if my word means anything to you." "Sorry if I came across as an old bastard, the folk often call me one." - The pawnshop laughed, offering you his palm. - "Name's Benzo, young lady. I'm the owner of this pawnshop, as Mr. Lymere surely informed you. Nice to know someone cares."

Yeah, only if you cared voluntarily, huh? You accepted the handshake nonetheless, offering him the sweetest smile you mustered. - "Y/N Y/L/N, call me Y/N. Nice to meet you, Benzo." "See, I told you, you'll be fine anywhere." - Ezreal smiled, nudging your side. "Who's the poor soul you're looking for?" "Sheriff Grayson referred me to someone going by 'Vander'. Said he's a geezer with one hell of a reputation around here. If there would be anyone these folk listen to, she said, it's Vander. Ever heard of him? I'd like to go over what the people could want so I could relay it to the council and start with the negotiations."

"If I know that old rascal? Ha!" - Benzo started laughing again. You liked him more and more by the minute. - "Everyone around here does. He runs a pub, you had to cross it on your way here. The Last Drop, does that ring any bells?" "Oh, yeah!" - Both you and Ezreal nodded in unison. The main pub in the largest square of the Lanes, a local district filled to the brim with former black market operations as Ezreal informed you just half an hour prior. - "Looked welcoming." "You bet, two lovebirds like you won't find a better place to make out anywhere around here." "Oh! That's not... You got it wrong!" - You exclaimed, falling into a fit of wholehearted laughter. This was the first time you laughed during your stay in Zaun - you laughed so hard your belly hurt, tears streaming down your face. "I know we've been over this, but this genuinely hurts my feelings, Y/N." - Ezreal muttered, fighting laughter himself. - "Anyway, thanks for the help, Benzo."

"You ever go there to have a cold one by any chance?" - You wondered, wiping the tears, calming down. Each time people assumed you and Ezreal were a thing, this was your reaction - breaking down, laughing so hard you cried. - "I've got the feeling I'll be spending a lot of time there." "I'll see you around, Y/N." "Can't wait!" - As the door closed behind you, Ezreal nudged your side again before letting you entwine your elbow with his. It helped you feel safe, especially in places such as this.

The Last Drop. Entering the pub, you got a feeling this is precisely the place where everything goes down. This was your first time being in a place such as this, so you looked around with batted breath while Ezreal led you to a table, nodding at a few people here and there. It genuinely felt like the lair of all the sin and alcohol. People played pool, some sulked around drinking, dancing in front of a small jukebox, playing cards or arm wrestling, laughing, and joking around. Each game was played for a bid, this pub was gamble-core galore. While you never even tried playing poker for money, Ezreal genuinely seemed to be acquainted with some of the Last Drop's patrons, nodding their way. These people felt different than those who you met until that moment... More alive, more fun, nicer. Well, until a skirmish broke out in front of the bar; a 6'8 man with chemtech augmentations punched another dude square in the face, resulting in both of them being dragged out by other patrons.

And that was when you first saw him.

He'd been talking with a woman sitting at the bar, snickering at her remark while absentmindedly polishing pints. The man, whoever he fucking was, looked like a sculpture. First, there was the smile - the mischievous spark in it, something vaguely boyish in his eyes as he looked at the woman, his watery-colored eyes narrowed ever so slightly. Secondly, you admired his facial structure. There was something so... Good-looking about his jaw and small, nicely shaped lips. You liked it when he smiled and immediately started imagining if you could make him laugh. Your heart skipped a beat upon that imagination. Thirdly, his hair and beard were visibly kept in good shape, but overgrown; it looked good on him, though, which was a look not a lot of men could pull off. And fucking lord, he was so well built. Broad shoulders, strong forearms, nicely shaped waist that begged to be hugged by your arms. Piltover didn't have men like similar to this kind, you were sure of that - he appeared to be gruff, but the mischievous smile told you otherwise. His posture and body screamed dominance, but his eyes whispered safety.

There was no doubt in your mind that the mysterious bartender was probably twice your age and that you definitely shouldn't be thirsting over him. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn't look away from him - the longer you watched him, the more deranged scenarios devoured your mind. Witch each piece of clothing disappearing, your mouth felt drier, the boiling hot blood traveling right between your thighs. It was impossible to look away from him. His presence ensured you wouldn't pay attention to anything else as you sat there, gravitating towards him like a moth to a lamp.

Each move he made was like cinema to you and each time his lips moved as he talked to the lady, butterflies started tingling in your belly. You wanted him to talk to you this way, was it a far cry to imagine you'd catch his attention? What were you thinking? He was a Trencher, you were a Piltie; two utterly different worlds. This guy probably wouldn't be interested in you, would he? Well, a girl can dream...

"Ezreal to Y/N. Are you okay?" - Ezreal bumped into your shoulder, making you finally look away from the bartender. Clearing your throat, trying not to appear as a flustered deer in the headlights, you looked at the spunky kid standing next to your table, seemingly getting your order. Her expression was unreadable and judging by her age and the bruise under her eye, she wasn't working here voluntarily. Who was she? "Sorry, I got lost in my thoughts. What's the best drink you have?" - You tried sounding at least a bit excited, but the kid just pointed to the menu and walked away. - "She seems friendly." "Probably got herself into some sort of trouble and got punished by helping that Vander guy, don't take it too personally." - Ezreal muttered, watching as you got up. - "Where are you going?" "I'll the bartender about the best drink… And about Vander." "And will you at least get a beer for me?" - Ez cried out as you disappeared into the crowd showing him thumbs, too busy staring at the mysterious man to look back at Ez.

If you weren’t mesmerized by the bartender, your shoulder wouldn’t bump into a very imposing woman who, at the time, played pool with her buddies. If you hadn’t bumped into her, she wouldn’t spill and break her pint on the ground. If her beer hadn’t been spilled, she wouldn’t turn around to take a good look at you. Upon the sound of shattering glass, the pub fell silent for a second, everyone turning their attention to the two of you. Before Ezreal got the time to get off his ass to get you outta there, the woman shoved you to the ground; so harshly that your head hit the wooden flooring. The bartender was forgotten as you grunted in pain, picking yourself off the ground; you didn’t have to bother, though. The woman gripped the hem of your jacket, making you tiptoe as she forcibly invaded your space - even though you didn’t consider yourself to be the smallest bean in the room, her physical build definitely overshone yours. She watched you like fucking prey, ready to kick or punch your teeth in.

“The fuck do you think you doin’, huh?” - The woman gritted through her teeth, biting down on a toothpick. - “You're not local, are you? Fucking Pilties, thinking you own everything 'round here, actin' like nothin' can happen to you. Guess what, princess.” “It was an accident. Put her down so we can talk this through. Sevika, c'mon.” - The friend she played against was trying to get you outta there. Even though it was a nice sentiment from the stranger, Sevika scoffed as her palms pulled you even closer.

Holy shit. Were you about to get your soul kicked out of you just two weeks after moving into Zaun? Had to be some sort of speed run record, you were positive.

“As if. Pilties gotta learn their lesson, just like we learned ours back on the bridge. Better if this pretty little thing learns it soon on.” “I’ll buy you another round, how 'bout that?” - You choked out with trouble, catching her palms in yours as you did your best to defuse the situation. Ezreal was standing just next to you now, ready to get into a fight if it would get to it. The boy, bless him, being a sweet summer child was still willing to fight for your dignity and honor. - “I’m sure we can talk about it.” “That’s all you, fucking Pilties - all talk and no walk. Zaun isn’t for people like you. You don’t belong here, sweetcheeks, you ruined our lives and now,…” - With each word, Sevika brought you closer, tightening the grip on your t-shirt. Just as you started to feel her breath on your cheeks, someone else stepped into the spectacle - someone's palm circled around her forearm, forcing her to put you back down.

It was him, the man you were mesmerized with. The bartender. The tender expression and feelings in his eyes were replaced with an unpleasant furrow directed towards Sevika. Now that he was closer, you realized he was even more handsome than you assumed. His head was cocked towards his shoulder, his brows knitted together, veins on his palm and forearm prominent due to the force he applied on Sevika's grip.

“'t’s enough.” - The man said quietly and slowly, the tension immediately defusing into thin air as your feet touched the ground. - “‘t was an accident, nothin’ more. Lass said she’ll buy you a new round, so I don’t see any problem 'ere. This is not how we welcome people 'round here.” "Old man, did you already forget..." - Sevika gasped for air, the muscles on her arm tensing as she got ready to pack a hefty punch to the man. The bartender, however, remained cool as a cucumber - simply stared at her, not flinching out of the way. "Of all the folk 'round, I'm the one who remembers everythin'. Also, you should remember it's unwise to threaten the guy who pours the drinks 'round here." "Let's get you some air, you." - Sevika's companion mutters, tugging her towards the door. - "Let's go for a walk, c'mon."

"Hey." - When Sevika was out of the door, the life in the pub started moving again - people got back to their gambling, arm wrestling, and talking, seemingly forgetting about anything even happening. The bartender was now turned to you, patting your shoulder gently while leading you towards the bar. - "You alrite?" "I'm whole, which is better than I anticipated. Sorry for causing trouble during your shift, though. Must be a lot as it is." "Huh?" - That smirk... His damned smirk made you forget about who you've been and what you were supposed to be doing in the Last Drop. - "Trouble? Sevika? Don't take it personally. I know that can be hard to do, but still. Local folk are usually much nicer."

"I've noticed." - You nodded, flushing simply because he was talking to you. Christ, you were down bad, almost starting to feel like Ezreal. - "Been living here for the past two weeks. You people are... Indifferent. But better than you being hostile." "Indifferent?" - The guy repeated after you, sending you a small, warm smile. - "That's a first. Never been called indifferent before. That a compliment?" "Depends on if you'd like to take it as such, I suppose." - His expression made you smile back at him, heart pounding in your chest. "Y'know what? I'll take it as one." - His chuckle almost sent you spiraling, making you smile at him dumbfoundedly. - "So, what can I do you for?"

"I would want a beer for that gentleman over there." - Pointing over at Ezreal, the boy just waved in your direction. - "And a drink for me." "Ordering 'a drink' doesn't narrow it enough I'm afraid, sweetheart." "What's your best drink, then?" - You wondered, enjoying the atmosphere and banter you had going on. "Do you like surprises?" "I can do without them." - You sighed in defeat. - "I can make an exception, though. One-time ocassoon, tho, don't take your chances." "Wouldn't dream of it."

While he mixed the drinks, you were keeping him company. Letting the banter flow, he started asking you why you moved to Zaun, whether you're suffering or enjoying yourself, and how you like the pub... Small talk every bartender makes to appease their customers, more or less. Even though it was this basic, you couldn't look away from him - where he moved, your eyes followed. When he smiled, you mimicked. Whenever he was closer than a foot, your heart skipped a beat. He smelled so nice, so earthy, like wood, jasmine and oranges.

"Oh, by the way." - You reminded yourself as he finished the drink, facing away from you to keep it as 'a surprise'. Uh-hm was all you got in response. - "I'm here to meet someone named Vander? Rings a bell?" "I'd assume so. What do ya need of that old bastard, sweetheart?" "I'm here to talk about possible future negotiations between Piltover and Zaun. The council wants to grant this region greater rights in exchange for peace." "You're a diplomat?" - The man stopped, bright pink cocktail umbrella hanging between his fingers. The atmosphere seemed to fade away while he processed the information, his smile disappearing.

"Listen, you have nothing to worry about. I'm here to make sure everything goes smoothly and help as much as I can. Vander isn't in any sort of danger. Sheriff Grayson referred to him as someone who'd be in a position to make demands for the Zaunites." "You're pretty young for a diplomat's what I meant to say, sweetheart. Don't take it the wrong way. One'd assume such a young thing would have other things on her mind." "You know him or not?" - You asked, amused by his explanation. "'s me. Vander, pleasure's on my side."

Oh shit. Oh fuck. So this was Vander. The former 'Hound of the Underground', as Grayson informed you. This beautiful man, this absolute spectacle... Was the guy you'd spend hours and hours with talking about political nonsense? This both excited and worried you. It was a curse in disguise. How were you supposed to even start talking to him? The moment you'd be alone, your mind would fill with very inappropriate fucking thoughts. "Oh, snap." "Haven't heard anything more Piltoverian in a long time. Well... How 'bout you?" "What about me?" "What's your name, sweetheart? Wouldn't mind calling you names, but when we get to business, I wouldn't wanna come across as immature... God forbid rude." - The way his tongue deliberately stretched 'business' between his lips made you swoon, gasping for air in hopes Vander wouldn't notice (he definitely noticed).

"Y/N, my name's Y/N Y/L/N. Pleasure's on my side." "Hey now, that's my line." - With a chuckle, Vander put down a cocktail in front of you. It was dark blue, frothy with crushed ice, decorated by a piece of orange and that pink cocktail umbrella you'd seen earlier. - "Look at the beauty." - Vander smiled, pushing it a bit closer. No idea what he was talking about (whether you or the cocktail), but your heart skipped a beat. Again. - "The best drink I can make. Hope it'll taste good. "How much?" "Hm?" - Vander asked, watching as you pulled out your wallet. "For the drinks. How much?" "Leave it, 's on the house." "No way, cowboy. How - much?" "Take it as compensation for Sevika's tantrum earlier, doll." - Fucking hell, this nickname almost gave you a heart attack. - "If you keep on flatterin' me, ya not payin' a single dime." "Unprofessional. Immature. Rude." - You gritted and passed a few Valors on the bar. - "Take the tip, at least." "'Aight. Can say no to that. If you'd want another drink or anythin' else, just wave at me. I'll be there in no time. Deal, sweetheart?" "What a smooth criminal you are, Vander. Thank you kindly." - As you took both drinks and walked back to your table, you couldn't see the smile freeze on Vander's face as you called him a 'smooth criminal'. Did you know? Had Greyson mentioned his impressive portfolio that still haunted him to that day? The Hound of the Underground. That's how people knew him, why they respected him.

"So, did we find the guy, or..." "Right there. The bartender. That's our guy." "Oh... Wow." - Ezreal leaned his elbow into the chair, eyeing Vander properly. - "Seems decent enough of a man. Expected someone older, though." "He's very nice and very polite." "Heh. Sure. Nice and polite." - Ezreal snickered, looking at you. You really had no fucking clue, did you? About how assertive you were, about how lovely the features of your face were. On the occasions, he and Jayce got you into a tight corner and you got flustered (which happened rarely) and you became a stuttering, annoyed mess, you were one of the most beautiful girls Ezreal had laid eyes on. And no, he wasn't saying it out of chivalry or because you two were best friends - it was because you were best that he pulled his head out of his ass for once and behaved the best he could. Back when you got the letter? Ezreal meant each word.

Collaborating with Vander actually wasn't as bad as you worried it'd be. With each meeting, you'd swoon harder and harder but managed to pull your head out of your ass to focus on the responsibilities at hand. In the beginning, Vander did his best to inform you about how things are and go in Zaun so you'd be accommodated better. Usually, he'd either invite you before he'd open the pub or reserve you a spot at the bar, where you'd talk about points that started coming up over time - like Enforcer oppression, increasing drug usage, and inadequate means for children to reach at least basic education. His points and observations were reasonable and understandable.

When he wouldn't be talking about business with you, as he settled on calling it, your mind would be consumed with him as he rambled about everything and nothing. Sometimes, you wouldn't even listen to him, you'd simply sip on your drink and let his deep voice intoxicate your brain. His smell, God almighty, his fucking smell. Over time, you've become mesmerized with the details. Vander throwing the tea towel over his broad shoulder, polishing the bar, the muscles on his back dancing in unison. How his fingers ruffled his hair. His smile when he greeted patrons and regulars. How he bit on his lower lip when he thought of a response. How he smoothed his beard when you said something out of pocket... So many details. You loved watching him like a stage play, especially when he served other guests. Did he know? He must've known - he'd send you a knowing grin each time your fingers brushed over the document you've been working on. Vander even went as far as figuring out which nickname you liked the most. Seeing as you shrugged and stuttered each time he'd call you a doll, it became his most used word.

Was he this attentive to all the other female guests? You couldn't tell. You liked watching him work, yes, but you weren't listening in on their conversation. Was it a formality, due to occupation, a game or did he mean it when he occasionally flirted with you? Some compliments Vander came up with left you speechless. He was the man to notice subtle wardrobe changes and make-up experimentations, mainly because you dressed differently than 90% of the local population. He'd be the first to comment on phrases 'so Piltoverian it hurt'. When it got late enough at the Last Drop and you'd be tipsy enough, Vander got daring enough to compliment your smile, saying it always 'lit up his entire day'. This man knew how to run his fucking mouth, sending you into spirals each time he'd whip out a compliment.

What he was hesitant about, however, was touching you - in moments when he stopped paying attention, his hand would slip on your shoulder blades as he watched you writing into the document. You never commented on it, you loved it when he touched you - it sent a heat wave through your entire body, making your breath hitch in your throat and push your thighs close together. As soon as he saw you looking at his palm, it would be gone from your back, leaving you craving more.

Benzo became one of your best friends in the Undercity, you had to admit. He had his oddities, but he'd welcome you inside his shop whenever you dropped for a visit. Ekko, the young boy you've met earlier, was introduced to you as his ward. The boy grew to adore you - you'd bring him sweets when you visited Piltover and tell him about how it looks and works up there. Benzo explained that his ward is very good with inventions, a scientist by heart - you'd promised Ekko you'd show him Jayce's workshop sometime in the future. Each time he'd be in Last Drop, whenever you came to have something to eat, a drink, or work with Vander, Benzo'd wave at you over the entire pub and save you a spot on the bar. Even though his business surely had little to nothing to do with legality, you grew fond of him.

That night, you've waited until Vander would close the pub. The place slowly depopulated while Vander flickered most of the lighting, drowning it in darkness. The only remaining light was above your head, shining right into the Blue Lagoon you'd ordered earlier. "And who'd busted your bubble?" - Vander asked quietly, watching as you played around with the cocktail umbrella. No matter what drink you ordered, he ensured you'd always have a cocktail umbrella stuck in. - "Even put some oranges in it, you've seemed to enjoy it the last time." "Just tired, I think, been finishing the document so I can turn it in. Grammar and formatting are a pain in the ass." "Sorry to hear that, doll." - The big guy huffed, sitting on the neighboring stool while patting your shoulder. Joining in, he poured himself a beer. Again, your breath hitched as you enjoyed every second of his body touching yours. - "What was wrong with the last draft? Thought it looked decent 'nough?" "Overlooked some paragraphs and spacing. Council would return it to me the moment they'd notice." "Well, 't least you tried." "Hm." - You sighed, putting your head on the bar.

"Hey, you." - Vander chuckled, his head cocked to the side as he tried keeping eye contact with you. - "Can you smile?" "Why would I do that? I'm suffering." "C'mon, pretty girl. Smile." - He'd whisper, gently caressing your back. The caress made you breathe in shakily, smiling as he asked. - "See? The nite is suddenly much better." "You're such a comedian. Why do I take the bait each time?" "Maybe you like smilin' at someone handsome as me?" - Vander opposed, making you giggle. He was the handsome man you'd met, that much was true.

It wasn't just about being attracted to him at this point, though. There was more than level-surface attraction and crackling chemistry - you liked him. Seriously liked him. As you lay away in your flat, you'd play with your blanket and think about how things could be in a perfect world - Vander would close the inn and come home shortly after midnight, kissing you on the forehead after he'd take off his jacket. That would most certainly wake you up, so you'd join him in the kitchen for a bit before leading him to bed. You usually had to stop yourself, forcefully, from letting the daydream carry on - you'd only imagine stripping him of his clothes when you got desperate enough, jerking off before sleep. It needed to be let out. Vander had to know how you felt about him. To either decline your offer or agree to try pushing the boundaries a bit. You've been tipsy enough to conclude that confrontation was a great fucking idea - you've had enough of watching other women goggling their eyes at him, pushing their breasts together as they'd order. It was bothering to look at his well-trained smile (the smile you've learned to love) as he answered them, winking their way. You liked the guy, you loved spending time with him... And he seemed to be interested as well. To what degree, you had no idea about it, but he surely liked having you around.

"Or maybe..." - It took all of your courage to turn at him, putting your palm on his upper thigh. Vander's fingers stopped caressing the glass, squinted his eyes, and tried deciphering what you've been up to. Your touch felt wonderful and, for the love of God, you smelled so good. "What has gotten into you, doll, hm?" - The man whispered, gently moving strands of your hair out of your face, smiling warmly. Your eyes were open wide, filled with little sparkles as you stared at his face. "I want to kiss you, Vander." - With those words, his motions stopped altogether.

Of course, he thought about kissing you. Multiple times - each time you were sitting at the bar and sent him a smile, to be precise. It would be easy to simply lean over, smooth your cheek, and steal all your thunder. In fact, you couldn't have an idea what you were doing to him, intoxicating his brain with the sweetest scenarios and possibilities. It would be the easiest way of shutting you up whenever Vander got you flustered; he enjoyed when you turned into a stuttering, annoyed cute little mess, though. It was endearing watching you try to get yourself off the sinking boat while digging yourself a deep grave. Vander also thought about much more than just kissing you - he'd seen you naked so many times (inside his head), he'd swear he'd recognize your body amongst other women, even with the lights off. Your strange turns of phrases often made his tummy tingle with butterflies as he laughed, explaining to you that you sounded too Piltoverian. Your expression and widened eyes goggling at him made him feel warm and fuzzy on the inside... You've managed to make the Hound of the Underground soften. Fucking God almighty, your outfits made Vander's heart flutter - it was a mix of everything; sometimes you'd be wearing a fluffy white blouse paired with a brown tar-tar vest and derby trousers, other times you'd appear in a bright-colored dress and paired with, again, a tight vest. Even though you always looked out of place, Vander loved that about you. His eyes never searched for you too long, not to mention you looked like an absolute goddess. The derby trousers did nothing for your buttcheeks. When serving, he'd have to keep himself away from you so he wouldn't slap them. How would you sound if he'd made you squeak? Or if you'd be a whining, meowling mess as he'd hover over you, losing his senses to you? How would his name sound when screamed at the top of your lungs?

No matter how hard Vander had it for you (literally and figuratively), there wasn't a world when it would work for both of you. He'd been a Zaunite gangster back in the day, recently reformed into a full-time father and pub owner. Ah, when talking about fatherhood - you didn't even know he's looking after four fucking kids. You didn't have a clue about Vi, Powder, Mylo and Claggor. How could you? Such a pretty young thing didn't deserve a life like this - bound to one place without the alternative to leave. Vander couldn't leave Zaun. But you could. Each time Vander realized how intelligent you truly were, it would knock the air outta his lungs - if there was anyone with a bright future, it got to be you. You had the entire Runeterra laying at your feed, ready for you to explore every nook and cranny. You had places to be, people to meet, work to do... No way he'd let you throw that away for someone like himself. Compared to you, he'd been significantly older, slower and already set in his tracks - you had a whole life ahead of you.

One kiss couldn't ruin anything, could it? You've been tipsy, ogling each other for the entire night, saying shit you shouldn't really say. He wasn't afraid of rejection - Vander was perceptive enough to recognize bedroom eyes on a woman from a mile away. He was afraid of rejecting you. Now that he knew you, it was impossible to imagine Last Drop without having you around. Benzo was fond of you, Ekko loved you (Benzo admitted that the little boy might be crushing on you a teeny-tiny bit) and most of the locals started treating you as an equal. You... You couldn't disappear out of his life.

He'd hesitated for too long. The grip on his thigh started to weaken as you pulled away, flustered beyond any reason - you were turning away, awkwardly coughing into your sleeve. Everything inside his body froze before he could stop it, pushing your palm back where it was - on his thigh, squeezing it gently. As you turned to face him, he leaped forward, kissing you. It made your head spin, that's how good of a kiss it was. Things you hadn't enough courage to admit out loud, all the desire and tension resulted in teeth clattering, tongues dancing, and lips crashing again... And again... And again. You've kissed like nothing else mattered, slipping off the stools - his knee parted your legs while his palms roamed his sides and lower back, spreading them further apart as he pressed you onto the bar, palms sliding along your curved back. If Vander hadn't the willpower to snap out, you'd likely end up bent over the pool table or the tappers. Thankfully, when he felt your fingers tugging his shirt out of his pants, he stepped away, catching your palm in his.

"I... 'm sorry, doll, I shouldn't have done that, I dunno what's gotten into me." - Vander whispered apologetically, awkwardly picking up the stool you'd knocked to the ground during the kiss. "There's nothing to be sorry about, I asked for it." "Doll, there's everythin' to be sorry 'bout." "What do you mean?" - As he registered the vulnerability in your voice, his eyes snapped to you, still leaning your back into the bar. God, you looked amazing with your lips swollen from the kiss. There wasn't time to admire, you, however -this was a fine line Vander found himself on. One wrong word and you could slip past his fingers, never to be seen again.

"You... You shouldn't even be here this late, sweetheart." "Are you trying to say you don't want me here? That none of this is... Real? Was it a game for you?" - The moment you started doubting this, Vander's finger snapped at you as he shook his head. "That's not what I'm sayin'. You should be in your bed, fallin' asleep next to someone your age, maybe that blonde boy'f yours. Seems to have the hots for you, poor kid. Instead, you're here, spendin' your time with someone like me." "Someone like you?" "I could be your father, Y/N." - Vander hissed. Wow. You couldn't recall the last time he'd use your first name - he had to be worked up real bad. "You'd have to start really early, then." - You chuckled, continuing before he caught another wind. - "You're getting yourself too worked up over nothing. It's... Just a kiss, nothing more - I'll still be your regular. I loved it." - Even though the last sentence was a mere whisper, it made Vander straighten up. The explosion of a guttural warmth inside his chest was insane, almost setting him on fire. Even though it wasn't any concrete confession, one step would lead to another...

"'t felt good tonite, will feel like shit tomorrow morning, doll, you'll see." - Sighing, Vander stepped closer to you, leaning into the bar while taking one of your palms to his, playing with your fingers. - "Whatcha thinkin', doll? A Piltie like you with a Tencher like me? C'mon now, what good would that bring?" - Taking a breath, Vander pushed a stand of your hand behind your ear. "How about you let me decide what I'd like to do and how I feel about kissing you? That okay?" - Sighing, you leaned your forehead into his shoulder and gently hugged his waist with your palms. - "I'll let you know the next time I drop by."

"Okay, lemme say it differently - what would such a pretty little pet like you even do with an old geezer like me? You're not just someone, you've even studied at the Academy - the Undercity ain't somethin' you should be aimin' for, Y/N. When I look at you, I see the future. And a damn bright one at that." - His fingers were ghosting along your jaw, his heart thumping steadily. You knew the tone and look in his eyes - like a kid staring at a toy they wouldn't be able to get in a million years. - "And when you change the world, me and Benzo'll tell everyone about ya - 'Y/N? That's our girl, one of the Zaunites; the one who'd been kind enough to kiss an old fool like me'." "To which I'd say I wished you'd kiss me ever since I've met. You're just... Like a fire and I'm a moth, constantly gravitating towards you. When you're not around, it's like my breathing gets heavier, I'm worrying about where you are, what you're doing, and if you're okay... And when I see you, this warmth spreads through my chest. There's not a day when I wouldn't wanna see you and let you poke at my accent or turns of phrases. Vander, I... I... I should go." - With that, you pushed Vander off and picked up your belongings, putting a few Valors on the bars as you usually did. If you continue running your mouth, you'll start unveiling things you did your best to keep hidden away from Vander. For example, that you loved him.

If you weren't so nervous, you wouldn't miss the mesmerized look Vander gave you, breathlessly staring at you. He knew what you've been trying to say - he was on the same boat. He was just a man in his best years trying to get by, helping his community and people. It was so fucking hard to believe a girl like you liked him for what he was. If you'd say it out loud, he'd believe you. He'd even say it back. Three words - such a short phrase would become his favorite. If you had enough courage to say it, he'd repeat it over and over. Instead, he watched as you packed your things, holding everything together with a last-ditch effort. - "If I keep on going, Vander, I'd probably say things neither of us want to hear. If a kiss made the situation this messy, we wouldn't withstand what's on my mind. I... I'll see you around, I promise."

God. You were wrong. So fucking wrong. You're almost out of the door when you hear Vander calling out your name, making you turn around. He'd been mustering up the strength to say it, but before he could... The courage dissipated as you smiled at him. - "Hm?" The way he stared at you dried your mouth and your knees weakened. If you've ever seen bedroom eyes on anyone, this was it. His eyes darkened, his breath short as he tried to come up with something... Anything. Lust was a double-edged sword, that much you realized. Vander would get on his knees to hear whatever stupid shit you had on your mind if there was a slight possibility you felt the same - if that'd be the case, you'd end up bent over the bar. Drunk fucking, that would be the worst thing you could do. If you'd get down to it, you wanted Vander to be sober. You wanted to be sure it was just him touching you, whispering sweet nothings, moaning at appropriate times; not alcohol. You didn't want it to be remorse either. The moment would be right if Vander hadn't started overthinking and overcomplicating shit. "I'll go now, Vander. Remember... I won't even regret kissing you."

You didn't have the balls to go for a beer for the two following weeks. You avoided The Last Drop as if it were a plague epicenter, not even looking its way when you walked through the Lanes. Benzo caught up on the shift, asking if everything was alright. Since Vander seemingly didn't bother with informing Benzo about what happened, you hadn't either; when you popped by his pawn ship to drop off some sweets for Ekko, Benzo even got the audacity to tell you that: 'Vander misses you, asks for you every nite, girl. Whatever the old bastard had done can't be that bad, can it?' Did Vander even do anything wrong? He hadn't outright rejected you, had he? It almost seemed he'd admit there's more to it than just a kiss. Emotions, perhaps? Well, you've been on a streak of childish behavior and you planned to continue.

No matter how long you worked during the night, Vander plagued your mind. You've missed him, the way he smiled at you, gently caressed you with his looks, and how delicate his tone was when he spoke with you. It was strange to work in silence since you've gotten used to the vivacity of the Last Drop. Your flat suddenly felt like a prison - too small, too dark, and too quiet. Even when Ezreal came over to visit you and sleepover, it didn't brighten up the mood. The boy wasn't stupid when it came to crushes and lovesickness - as soon as he heard you sigh, he'd been onto your ass, trying to lure details outta you. It wasn't a bad idea, actually - you needed your friends to help you solve the conundrum of 'Vander'.

"And... You left after that?" - Ezreal asked, genuinely shocked. You've called for an emergency meeting at Jayce's - all three of you were splattered all over Jayce's sofa, sipping on a beer, eating take-out. "What else was I supposed to do?" "So, you've fallen in love with this amazing Trencher..." - Jayce mumbled through the noodles in his mouth, sitting up. - "And he kissed you like anyone before?" "Yeah, it was... Wow. We've knocked over a few stools, even, but we were both drunk." - You reminded, sighing. "Have you seen how he looks at you?" - Ezreal asked you, having you cock your head towards him dumbfoundedly. - "Every time we're there for a drink, the guy doesn't look at anyone but you. Like there's no other person in the pub, just you."

"Have you heard a word from what I've told you?" "You ran away after he pointed out a few excellent points instead of telling him what's on your mind... And then left him conscience-stricken for two weeks. Without dropping by to tell him you're just confused." - Jayce reiterated. It wasn't like that, was it? You didn't run away without telling - Vander surely knew. Why didn't he comment or answer it in any way? It wasn't just your fault - there were two to blame. "I'm... I wasn't confused." "Don't take this personally, but we've never seen you fall in love with anyone. You fooled around at the Academy - who didn't? But it looks like when it comes to real feelings... You're not too good at conveying them. Lemme guess - you started talking, said something incredibly cheesy, and then rambled, didn't you?" - Ezreal asked, smoothing your shoulder. How did he know? God, these guys knew you better than you could ever know yourself. - "In response, Vander started rambling about the future - about how it couldn't be good for you and stuff. Even though it might've come across as dismissive, Y/N, that man thought about a future by your side. Also, we can't see every thought that goes inside that brain of yours, so it can be confusing to navigate at times. You love him, then? And want to fu..." - Ezreal nibbled on, making you unnerved and flustered. Was he just about to ask you if you wanted to fuck Vander? That casually, like it's nothing? "Yes, Ezreal, yes! I can't think of anything but him, I can't eat, can't sleep..." - You exclaimed, standing up to take a long breath. The duo gave you a run for your money, you had to admit. - "All I want is him. But I don't know how to do it or what to say. That's why we're here."

"Then I don't see a problem here. Do you, Ezreal?" "None, Jayce." "We're on the same page, then." - Jayce smiled, clinking his bottle to Ezreal's before taking a good swing. - "God, these noodles are so good." "If you two don't talk, I swear on Heimerdinger's inventions..." "Vander, from what I've gathered, is an upfront, honest guy..." - Jayce started, having Ezreal nod in confirmation. "... Then it's obvious what you have to do. Just tell him. Which part? I don't know. Just go for it." "That's the best piece of advice you got for me - 'just tell him'? Isn't that what I attempted last time?" "Oh, Y/N, girl." - Ezreal howled, pushing you back to the sofa between Jayce and him, and handing you back your beer. - "This time, you're gonna go straight to the point. No cheesiness, no romance - it'll be a love confession, but you see what I mean, right? Let me phrase it delicately... You'll tell him all about those dirty scenarios inside your head. We guys love hearing stuff like that, it boosts our confidence." "For once, I second everything Ezreal said. You got this, Y/N, look at yourself. Ezreal is mostly right when sensing crushes - if he says Vander's got it bad for you, I'd trust him."

Ezreal didn't leave you on your own, God bless this sweet summer child - he'd made sure you'd really go talking to Vander, even helped you with picking out the outfit. He'd put together something insanely simple, yet elegant - a white lacey dress, a suiting black vest with golden detailing to match your Wellington boots. When enriched with adequate, very subtle golden accessories, and the right hairstyle... "God, Ezreal. When did you plan on letting me know you're a fashionista?" - You wondered, turning around to see every inch of you. You had these pieces for years and never thought enough to piece them together. Your fashion sense wasn't bad, per se, but faded in comparison to Ezreal's. "I've been making fashion statements for some time now, one'd assume you noticed since we hang out all the time." - The boy muttered, sitting on your bed. "I look so good." - Still checking yourself out, you leaned towards the mirror to look at how the golden necklace sits on your neck. "You always did. I just pushed it a step further, that's all." - Making you stand up, Ezreal caught your shoulders and looked you in the eyes. - "What's the plan? Run it by me one last time."

"I'll walk in the Last Drop, looking like a million Valors." "Duh." "Tell Vander I'd like to talk to him... Alone." "Yeah?" "And when we're alone, I'll tell him what I wanna do to him... Which will be so incredibly disgraceful and awkward..." "It'll be disgraceful and awkward if you don't pull yourself together. Be confident, smirk, touch him, smooth his shoulder, bite your lip, wiggle your eyebrows - just don't turn into a flustered mess. Imagine you're in a debating competition if that helps. Show him how serious you are, don't leave a single question unanswered." - Coach Ezreal instructed you, having you nod with fiery passion. While not known for his intelligence prowess, Ezreal was a great leader and an amazing empath. He'd known you much better than you knew yourself, helping you cross bridges you'd deemed impossible. Now, he was doing it again.

"Alright, seems to me you're in the right zone and everything. My job here is done." - The boy grinned, fixing a few strands of hair behind your ear. - "I gotta catch a date for myself." "Who's the poor soul? Do I know 'em?" - You wondered, the Undercity accent rubbing its way in. No wonder, you've been living in Zaun for at least three months by that point. Ezreal didn't point it out, just grinned while picking up his stuff lying around. "Linda from the study department." "Wow!" - You exclaimed, locking your flat. You'd walk Ez out on your way to the Last Drop. - "Why do you sound so down, then? Weren't you pinning against Linda for months?" "Eh... I mean, yeah... The problem is I asked her out at a party, super-drunk, and everything. Don't even remember what I fooled her into believing. Remember that faculty party you didn't come with me because you were too busy ogling at Vander?" "Hey, I'm not taking accountability for that. Jayce was your babysitter for the night." "He, for one, was busy ogling some guy from Heimer's office and didn't make it in time to inform Linda it's not a great idea." - Ezreal grinned, watching as you gasped for air. Ogling a guy from Heimer's office? Damn.

"How come I hadn't heard about this 'till now?" "You were too busy putting that draft together. Even sobbed about it when I slept over last week. Didn't think telling you about Jayce's romantic endeavors would help much." "And... Who's the guy? Do we know him? What's Jayce's type?" - Eyebrows wiggling, you pressed on, making Ezreal chuckle. "No, don't know him, I saw him at the party for the first time. How'd I describe him... Frail and foreign for sure. Don't take it wrong, he's... Strangely handsome, that one. Think it's the accent doing it for our poor old Jayce." "Fuck me." - You snorted, opening the front door. - "Our science bro has it down bad for other scientists. Twist of the century." "I liked Viktor." - Ez mumbled while leading you towards the main parade. - "He's snarky and most likely a genius. Zaunite by heart, strangely perceptive, weirdly confident in the best way... You'd love him." "You think Jayce would ask him on his own?" "Eh, no, not really. I'll start working on setting them up soon." "What would we do without our romance and fashion guru, Mr. Lymere?" - Looking him in the eyes, you smiled while Ezreal caught your hands in his, nodding at you.

"Now, forget all about Talis and his non-existent game... I mean, the guy can flirt, that's for sure, but..." "Not the point, Ez." "Right." - Ezreal nodded some more, clearing his throat. - "When you come tomorrow evening for the play, all I'm going to hear about is how this hunky, handsome guy blew your back out, 'kay?" "Ez!" - It was a squeal as you started to laugh, stepping aside, breaking the moment. - "You gotta stop saying that. I'm not good with... Saying this stuff out loud, you know that." "Good luck, lovely." - The boy leaned in, kissed your cheek, and sent you one of his typical smiles before turning on his heels and leaving. God, you loved Ezreal.

As Coach Ezreal coaxed you into doing, you did your best to walk into the Last Drop like a million Valors (not to mention the intense break you took leaned into the pub's wall, trying to get your shit together). As per usual, the place was lively - people haggling around, playing cards, jukebox playing a nice tune while they drank. Since it was the weekend, Vander wasn't behind the bar alone; Vera and Jakob were his backup for the night. You'd admired how Vander and his part-timers work in unison. Their responsibilities were strictly given, so each of them had their own little universe to keep in check - Vander dealt with the orders, Vera mixed cocktails and prepared snacks and Jakob ensured there were always enough dishes. "Look who we got here! Hey, Y/N!" - Benzo's voice exclaimed so loudly it was heard all over the pub - some locals acknowledged you with a nod or wave, not staring for too long. Benzo, however, was seemingly happy to have his drinking buddy back in business. As you made your way towards the bar, you'd let the guy hug you clumsily before stepping aside.

The bartender hadn't said a word to acknowledge your presence. Hadn't even looked your way, it seemed. Was he hurt, just like Ezreal expected? Was he pissed to see you walk in so casually? Why didn't he reach out, then? You'd bet your money that he knew where you lived - one could never keep a secret while living in the Lanes. It took all your willpower to snap your eyes into Vander's face, waiting for him to do anything, say something so you'd know what you're on. Funnily enough, Vander didn't plan on making it easier for you. At first, you were worried that he'd truly become indifferent. Devil's always in the detail, you reminded yourself, searching for signs of what's going on inside his head. When you started noticing, your heart fluttered in your chest, hot blood rushed into your cheeks. His eyes lingered on your lips, the gulp he'd desperately tried to suppress, the grip tightening around the glasses he polished. He'd held onto them to forcefully his knuckles turned white.

"It's so good to see you, both of you." - With a smile, you turned towards the bar. Vander automatically pulled out your favorite coater (he'd hide it away from other guests, this one was yours specifically), leaning his hands into the desk like a let-down parent. "What can I get you?" - His mumble was quiet, devoid of any emotion. No nicknames, no jokes, no flirting, huh? He'd really have to be pissed off, then. "I'm here on business, actually." - Sending him a sweet smile didn't help either? Damn. - "Could I steal you for a minute or two? Won't be keeping you long and then I'm out of your hair, promise." "Somethin' goin' down up there?" - Benzo asked with worries in his tone. "Nothing I can't take off, Benzo. Just need Vander's expert opinion, that's all. He'll be back before you know it. Shall we?" - With a clap of hands, you sent Vander yet another warm smile. The bartender raised his eyebrows, sighed, and put his tea towel on the bar. Picking up his sandwich, he'd informed Vera about being gone for fifteen minutes (for his break) at tops before vaguely gesturing for you to follow him. Fifteen minutes was all you got, huh? Fuck.

You'd expect him to lead you to his office on the upper floor - Vander didn't deem you worthy enough to sit on his plushy chairs, because he'd open the back pantry for you, opting you to sit on one of the barrels. "Well, start talkin'. We ain't have the whole evenin' - is it about the readin' or somethin'?" - Without an ounce of care, he'd peeled the napkin off his sandwich, chewing on it. "How... Have you been?" "How have I... Thought you wanna talk business, young lady." - Vander reiterated mockingly, looking away from you; his eyes had been stuck on your lacy dress, drowning in the sight of your breasts pushed together to form a delightful cleavage - it wasn't showing too much, but it definitely showed more than usual. Your breasts looked so... He'd been this close to reaching towards you, undoing the vest so he could squeeze them and nuzzle his head to your chest. Fuck, you looked so absurdly alluring and tantalizing Vander couldn't stand to look at you. He was mad at you just an hour ago - he couldn't give in that easily. He'd spent the last two weeks being absolutely miserable - your seat remained empty night after night, your coater hidden behind the tappers. Even though he'd known you weren't coming, he'd always ushered customers from sitting on your stool - his mind often going back to your carefree smile, your elbow supporting your head as you watched every move Vander made, reminding him of the cute expression on your face. Even the kids caught onto his mood swings - Vi laid into him regarding what, to quote her, 'Fucking busted his bubble?'

It took you a lot of courage to pick yourself off the barrel, stepping closer to him. Did you look seductive? You didn't feel like it at fucking all. Vander freezing like a deer in the headlights hinted that you were on the right track.

"I'm here to finish the conversation we started last week." "Not this again..." - Vander countered and started picking himself up to leave - it was a surprise when you pushed him back on his ass, keeping one hand on his shoulder, soothing his jaw with your other one. "I don't think I made myself clear enough." "Oh, trust me, darlin', you've said plenty..." "Yeah? Then you're gonna listen to it all again, I guess. Poor you." - The sandwich was long forgotten, lying on one of the shelves as you cocked your head to the side, sending Vander the calmest, sweetest smile you could muster. Holy shit, you realized, Ezreal's advice worked. Vander couldn't look away from you as you leaned your knee between his, planting your thumb on his lower lip to enthuse you'd love to kiss him again. Feeling the softness of his mouth made you lick your lips.

"I hoped you'd be smarter than this, sweetheart." - Vander whispered, finally giving in to your touch - you could feel his fingers creeping up your calves, gently lifting your skirt up, traveling up to your thighs. - "I ain't good news for a young thing like you. You'll get bored soon 'nough, leavin' me behind. Won't even remember me a few years from now... Thought you not showin' up was a good sign." "Good sign?" "That you'd understood what I tried to say and decided it would be best not to fool around with someone like me." "I thought about this a lot over the last week - about you, me, and what I tried to do. I was drunk, we both were, and words didn't come across as I'd like 'em to." - Lifting his chin up, you started playing with his hair. - "No matter how much you hate hearing this, I'm really into you. I think I'm in love with you."

Everything stopped for a second - his grip on your thighs tightened as he brought you closer, staring at you with pure adoration. His expression didn't reflect all the love and happiness behind his eyes, but the fireworks going off told you more than you needed to know. He'd felt the same, to one degree or another. There wasn't any rush to say it back - when he opened his mouth to talk, your finger stopped him as you pressed it there. Cheekily, Vander planted a kiss on it, waiting for what you wanted to say. Rest assured, your words almost gave him a heart attack.

"Now - stop fucking telling me how I'll feel or what I'll do in a few years. I want to be in the now with you and you're making it pretty fucking difficult. How about you just forget about everything for one night and show me how you feel about me? I don't care if this isn't a good long-term decision or whatever you're about to say - you're what I want most now. And even if I'd become a real diplomat one day... Vander, we're smart. We can figure it out. Stay in the moment, here with me." - Stepping in, you could feel your thighs bump into his abdomen - still holding his head in your palm, you were standing directly above him. Fucking hell, he was even more handsome up close. You loved every small wrinkle and crevice of his skin, an almost invisible scar on his lower lip, prominent cheekbones, and hair so soft you wanted to simply tug on it. His fingers on your thighs started to move up and down, caressing your smooth skin - even that alone was enough to make you meowl softly.

"So, therefore, I propose we drop the act and focus on letting whatever this is blossom. Fuck, you have no idea about how many times I'd imagined kissing you, Vander, how I melt each time you smile or give me a cheesy compliment. No other man in my life makes my hands shake just by standing beside me. You have no idea how many times I've dreamt you'd be in my bed, taking my clothes off and eating me out... And all the things I'd like to do to you, shit." - You continued mumbling erratically, not really paying attention to what was leaving your mouth - Vander seemed mesmerized either way as he bent your knees carefully, lifting you up to sit his lap (given he was sitting on a barrel, that shit must've been uncomfortable as fuck). Hearing you curse for the first time was an out-of-world experience for him, especially when accompanied by quiet hisses and subtle moans. Every word leaving your lips was dipped in honey, making him gasp for air helplessly - if he'd like to, he was sure you'd be willing to undress right there and then. Your knees fit around his waist as if he was made for you, his hardening dick pressing onto your thigh the moment you wiggled a bit. Feeling him made you gulp and lick your lips as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, playing with his hair.

"I don't know what you're so scared of? I'm here, you're here... Let's just... See what happens." "Ain't this an abuse of power, miss diplomat?" - He whispered, making you giggle. "Would be if you didn't want to fuck me as desperately as I wanna fuck you." - You whispered, stealing a quick peck off his lips. This broke the dam, causing all the feelings and emotions to flood out. "You - have - no - idea - what - ya - doin' - to - me - doll." - After each word, Vander stole a kiss from your lips, his palms lifting your ass, making you rock on his waist, grinding on his dick with a raisin intensity. Each movement made you moan breathily, sending chills down your spine. and started grinding your groin against his, earning a breathy moan from you. - "Seein' you talk to men makes my blood boil 'cause I want to be the only one you give that pretty smile to. I wanna be the one wakin' up next to you, caressin' your skin, help you with showerin' your back, and see all the newest clothes and underwear you bring home... Mainly the latter, 'f course. I just... I just wanna be your man." "Then show me, baby." - You whispered quietly, pulling him for a proper kiss, grinding against his lap in a steady rhythm. Warmth was spreading through your tummy, making it tighten each time your clit grazed the fabric of his trousers.

"I'd love nothin' else, doll..." - The man hummed, holding your chin between his fingers. Dear lord almighty, you looked more sensual than any woman he'd met before you - you seemed to be intoxicated from his kisses and words, your face burning up as he dragged his finger along your cheek. Each time you rocked your hips over his cock, your entire body shivered, eyelids fluttering. Realizing it was him making you meowl, that he kissed you so passionately that your lips were swollen was the hottest turn-on he'd ever felt. - "But my break is almost over. No way I'd undress you in this damn pantry for our first time, you deserve somethin' much better. You free tonight?" "Hmhm? What do you have on mind?" "Come pick me up after I close down. I'll make us dinner. We'll see where the things go from there, yeah?" "Can't wait, handsome."

After Vander watched you leave the Last Drop with a shy smile, his eyes glued to your ass, he couldn't stop grinning. Five hours remaining until your randez-vouz... A whole fucking eternity. The tent in his pants was unquenchable, no matter how many hairy men Vander attempted to imagine. This tween behavior made Benzo grin - he didn't need to ask what you've been up to, he already knew. Watching Vander's blush and his constant throat clearing was enough of a show in itself. Business his ass; Benzo and Vera actually bet if you'd have sex right then and there or if you'd wait for a better moment. Vera was now 20 Valors richer.

"Could you take over the tappers for a minute?" - Vander asked, looking at the drink she was just finishing - you'd like it. Filled with pieces of chopped fruit, a very refreshing mix of spirits and lemonade. - "Gotta arrange somethin' real quick." "You got it, V." - Vera called over her shoulder, showing Vander a thumbs-up. Leaving his tea towel on the bar, Vander turned on his heels to walk into the basement - this was his kids' designed hangout spot when they didn't feel like exploring Lanes. And since Vi was under house arrest, they've been lounging around it all weekend.

"Oh, hey." - Claggor was first to acknowledge him - he and small Powder were playing tick-tack-toe while Mylo read in the corner, only sending him a nod. Vi was sitting on the couch with her palms under her head, staring at the ceiling. "What's up, old man?" - Vi muttered, sitting up. She had the most authority over the group, so she needed to be pressured the most - getting along with her meant getting along with the rest of the kids. At this point, Vi wasn't even mad, unlike a month back - now, she spent most of the time thinking about how to avoid Vander's attention next time, ticking off the few remaining days on her hands.

"I wanna make a deal with ya, kids." - Vander started, leaning his ass into the counter below him. Everyone was paying attention now, their head turned directly at him. The truth was - he needed the flat empty if he wanted to host a dinner for you and fuck senseless after... Which would be difficult with four fucking kids around. - "I'll let Vi off the hook sooner if you'd sleep here, need ya outta my hair. Just for tonight." "Why?" - Powder wondered, her enormous blue eyes ogling at Vander. It was time to blush, sweat, and truly clear his throat. All the kids stared at him before Mylo exclaimed 'Aaaaah', laughing at Vander's busted ass. "... Our old man got himself a date." - The boy explained - before he managed to utter another word, Vi gripped her palm around his shoulder. "That's all she needs to know." - The girl ended topically, grinning at Vander. - "That's it? No buts or ifs if we stay the night here? That's all you askin'? You'll just... Let me off the hook?" "Depends, have you learned your lesson?" "Of course I did." - The girl answered, emphasis on the word 'did'. Yeah, right, and Vander was the newest fucking councilor. The kids started nodding frantically, making the old man chuckle. - "We all did. Last month had been very educational for all four of us." "Then you're off the hook. Of course, in case of an emergency, just come ask for help - I'll be here for you..." - Vander informed swiftly, watching as Vi sat next to him with an angelic smile - from his experience, she was about to ask the stupidest fucking question he'd heard all day. "Is it the pretty one? That one sitting on the bar all the time and staring at you as if she'd never seen a man? She has it bad for you." "You're begging for another month of house arrest." "Hadn't even said anything!" - The girl laughed, taking Vander's answer as a yes.

Striking a deal with the kids was a double-edged sword - they might be grateful for now, but jokes and innuendos were coming Vander's way, for sure. He needed to embrace all parts of fatherhood - the good parts, like Powder's drawings on the fridge or Vi's occasional hugs as well as the bad parts, consisting, for example, of the kids consistently finding sex and relationships cringe and disgusting. "Can I ask a favor from ya?" - Vander stopped in the doorframe, looking at the kids. - "Would you clean up the mess you've made yesterday?" "Oh, yeah... The pancakes..." - Powder sighed, remembering all the dirty dishes and ingredients plastered all over the kitchen sink. That might've been her job. Vander (while being very grateful for the breakfast) asked the kids if a bomb had gone off in the kitchen. "No problem, big guy, you got it!" - Vi exclaimed, her eyes shining as she just found another angle for a stupid statement. - "Everything will be good as new for your big night, on my honor." "You're on some mighty thin ice here." - The old man mumbled, but couldn't hide the grin appearing on his face.

Waiting for the Last Drop to close was endless, you'd swear - you'd change into outfit after outfit, trying out different underwear sets and even switching your hairstyle three times. You'd decided on something more decadent and less showy - while the afternoon visit was to seduce Vander, now you wanted to be more you - while being less fashionista, your outfits were still cute. Even walking into the establishment was nerve-wracking - just as you slipped through the door, Vera was leaving for the night after cleaning the whole place up. Jakob was long gone after that point - his mom was sick, so he'd leave around ten, leaving the two to deal with the locals and patrons.

"Hey." - You waved, smiling at the guy shyly. Vander was just polishing the tappers - you loved how his hand moved steadily, showing all the veins on his forearm. "Hey, you. Lookin' cute." - The man didn't waste any time making you fluster as you put your bag on your stool - you'd packed a few spare things to change into. "How was the night?" - Without hesitation, you'd walk behind the bar and roll up your sleeves to sort the different glass types Vander had lying around. "C'mhere. Forgotten somethin', silly." - Without notifying you, the man hugged your hips and pulled you in for a kiss - no matter your wet hands. Giggling, you didn't hesitate to kiss him back, gently smoothing his chin.

"Missed ya here, sweetheart." "I'm here now... And I'm starving." "Let me finish up so I can cook you somethin' delicious, doll." - Gently slapping your ass (melting at your surprised squeal), the man started finishing the very last chores feverishly. "I'm here to help - after I finish the glasses, what's on the agenda?" "Nothin' for you. I'd like some help in the kitchen, though." "Got it. Well..." - Smiling at him, you'd slap his ass back. It was a homely gesture you enjoyed, honestly. Something about slapping ass and watching his eyes shine as he glared at you made your heart flutter - getting another kiss helped too.

Vander's flat was on the top floor of the Last Drop - it was spacious, but felt crowded at the same time, for an inexplicable reason. There was a lot of stuff. Even though it was tidy, you got a chaotic vibe from the place... That meant you wouldn't like it, however. The design was incongruous, as you'd expected from a bachelor's fault - the pieces of furniture didn't match at all (in case they did, it was only vague), and the decoration was lacking, but he'd everything he needed. The flat smelled nice, unlike the rest of Zaun - like wood, oranges, jasmine, and his musk... It smelled like him.

"Welcome to my little kingdom." "Mhm, I like it here... A lot. Feels quite like home." - Your words made him smile even more widely than before - walking to you, he gently held your head in his palms before lowering his, kissing you with a happy hum. It was a sweet, delicate romantic kiss; his lips gently brushed yours, his palms slowly traveling onto your shoulders, copying the curve of your back and settling on your ass, bringing you impossibly close. "Let's get cookin' before you make me lose my damn mind, doll." - With a last caress of your jaw, he'd walk into a spacious kitchen/dining room. The table was impressively large - enough to host at least seven people. That was where you noticed it for sure - a lonely crayon forgotten under the table and children's drawings on the pantry door. Observing them, you nodded to yourself, putting your bag onto one of the chairs.

"There are... Nice." - You muttered, pointing at them. His expression froze for a second before he joined you in observing the masterpieces. "Mhm. I like 'em a lot. Always make my day." "Who gave them to you?" - With the most innocent expression you could muster, you pressed on with the interrogation. Vander... Wasn't taken, was he? He'd tell you if he was, right? Where would be his wife and presumed children - would he just tell them to leave the flat until he deals with his booty call? Surely not.

"Well, yannow, I help around the community. A lot of kids out here, a lot of excited painters." "Uh-huh." - The confusion and suspicion in your voice was almost tangible. There was one theory you could test out. - "Could I use the bathroom real quick?" "Suit yourself, doll. The first door on the left. Call out if you need anythin'." "I'll be right back." - Kissing his shoulder to divert his attention a bit, you walked inside the small bathroom - it wasn't anything regal, but it fulfilled its purpose. Turning on the basin to cause distraction, you started searching for proof of feminine presence - make-up, perfume, comb... Anything. The only thing you found, however, was a pink hairband forgotten next to the shower. A girl's hairband, you realized - could he be a widower? That would be fine too, you'd even understand why he hadn't mentioned it until then. Well, in that case, it would be better not to pressure him - he'll tell you on his own.

"Everythin' alright?" - He'd ask as soon as he noticed you lurking around the kitchen. Letting your eyes drown in the sight of a homey, domestic Vander was a heavenly sight. He'd taken off his jacket and worked on cutting some vegetables. "Everything alright. What can I help with?" "The meat." Cooking together was fun. You'd open a bottle of wine, chatting as you prepared the meal - Vander asked about details he hadn't learned yet, and you asked about his past, favorite pastime, and hobbies. As per usual, he'd been an open book, answering everything right away and with honesty - this guy could be married, no way in a million years. When a comfortable silence settled between you, you just wait for the meal to be ready - you've decided to settle on a small, very old kitchen island while waiting for Vander to finish peeling and roasting the potatoes.

"Whatcha grinnin' at, you pretty little thing?" "Just watching the most beautiful man I've met, 's all." "Look at her." - Approaching you, the man was purring with happiness. As he approached the edge of the island, your legs opened themselves to hook around his waist, bringing him closer. - "The accent's catchin' 'n everythin'." "Did to impress the guy I like." "Hope he's handsome and treats you right." "You have no idea." - Holding him in place with your palm, you put the glass down and closed off the distance, kissing him slowly. Passion built up with each little movement - he'd hold you impossibly close, his hands roaming your body freely, even taking the vest you've been wearing. Hip lips traveled from your lips to your neck, kissing a small trail below the collar of your blouse as he worked on the buttons. If you weren't starving, you'd let him undress you right there, on the fucking kitchen island... Ruining the atmosphere, your stomach started growling. The moment was gone in an instant, having you both laugh quietly.

"I'm sorry." - You laughed as he hugged you. This time, you let your hands roam around his broad back and shoulders, scratching it with your fingers. "Nothin' to be sorry 'bout. I promised you dinner and I intend to keep the promise." "You bet. Couldn't wait for what you have in store." "... If you provide the desert, that is." - The tone of his voice mesmerized you, having you ogling at him. Fucking hell, he looked so hot - looking at you with his eyes darkened with lust, his thumb playing with your lower lip. Wiggling your hips around, you could feel what was the reason for this sudden change of mood. His dick was deliciously outlined, almost begging to be pulled out and sucked, hitting the back of your throat. "I can give you a little taste." - With an innocent smile, your palm slowly caressed his lower abdomen, slipping down between his legs. Even the thought of having his dick on your palm made you hot and bothered, let alone imagine him finally fucking you after all this time. Sure, you've had sex before, but you've been this down bad and horny for anyone. Imagining him naked made you shuttered, his warmth made goosebumps rise on your skin - as if he knew what pressure to apply, how to apply it, and for how long... Vander was perfect. Fucking perfect. Just when you brushed the tip, Vander's palm tugged on yours.

"Dinner first, doll." - Pushing himself between your legs, he couldn't resist pulling you for one last kiss. - "You'll have all night for showin' me what a good fuckin' girl you are." "Okay, baby." "Good. I ain't plannin' on lettin' you leave until the mornin'." - With a last kiss on your temple, Vander walked back to the stove to check on the food. It smelled delicious. So much so that your stomach grumbled again.

The dinner was delicious, you had to admit. The man knew his cooking and he wasn't shying away from showing you heaven by overstimulating the everliving shit out of your taste buds. Vander even brought a bottle of wine from Last Drop's exclusive displays to amp it up. Having a man working in gastronomy spoiling you rotten had its benefits, you must admit. The conversation was... Mundane. You'd suspect the rising tension would've made it harder to make small talk. Still, it didn't change much except the hunger behind Vander's eyes - he hadn't seen you or talked to you properly in the last two weeks, of course, he wanted to hear what you've been up to, how locals treated you and if there's anything he can do to help.

You've been the one to do the dishes, despite Vander's protests - he was ordered to sit down and relax for a bit; he'd been on a long shift and cooked for you, no way you wouldn't return the hospitality. Other than fucking him senseless, that was. "Lord almighty." - It was a mere whisper, almost too quiet for you to notice. While drying your hands, you'd turned your head to Vander to send him a smile - his expression made you freeze in one place. His voice was husky as he stared at you, looking you up and down as if he hadn't seen a prettier woman before. His elbow leaned to the back of his chair, his tongue slowly traveling on his lips as he enjoyed the view - your hair let down, blouse half unbuttoned, tar trousers perfectly hugging your curves. Domestic behavior was one of his weaknesses.

The stare sucked the air out of your lungs, the smile disappearing. He'd been staring at you as if he was preparing to devour you alive, like a wolf preparing for the last blow. You've never felt like prey... Not in a good way. Daring to take it a step further, you unbuttoned the vest, letting it slip off your shoulders. The man didn't tear his eyes off you - it was hard to even blink, let alone move. Carefully, your fingers push under the blouse, showing off more and more of your skin. As you teased to show him your breasts, his response was a playful scoff. Turning away from him, you slipped the piece of clothing over your head; the see-through fabric left little to the imagination anyway, but finally looking at the laces of your bra left Vander biting his lip.

"Enjoying the show, big guy?" "You have no idea, doll." "How about you show me, then?" "Seems you're havin' fun on your own, don't lemme slow you down." "Could use a spare pair of hands." "Keep goin' and I'll think 'bout it."

Stripping for someone's enjoyment was new for you, but it was... Fun. You'd suspect you'd feel dumb, maybe silly; seeing how he palmed his hardening dick over his pants while watching each move you made gave you confidence. So much of it, in fact, that you slowly slipped the pants off your hips, your boots following soon after. Vander's eyes were glued to how you palmed your breast, playing with the hems of your panties. "Still want to only watch?" "Do you realize how mesmerizing you look, darlin'?" - With that, your fingers finally slipped under the fabric - your other palm grabbed on the kitchen unit so you could ache your back, letting out a lewd moan. - "Keep goin', doll, show me how you like it."

Fulfilling the wish, your fingers drew delicate circles around you, gathering all the wetness leaking out of you. You hadn't been this wet for anyone before Vander. Soon, you stopped caring if he was even watching you - you started to slip your fingers in and out, playing with yourself just as you enjoyed it. It was when your breathing got heavier and your knees started giving out when he finally walked over to you. Immediately, your forehead found its way to his shoulder, your fingers grabbing his forearm forcefully enough to leave dents. Helping you with getting off, he carefully pushed the tiny lacy panties aside (Vander wanted to keep them intact mainly because he suspected this piece of clothing would bring him on his knees anytime you'd show it to him). His fingers were much thicker than yours, making you moan in sensation as he carefully pushed them inside you, curling them up ever so slightly.

"Keep goin' for me, pretty girl, I wanna hear you moan." "F-fuck, Vander." - As he requested, so you provided, panting heavily between meowls and lewd moans leaving your mouth. - "You can add one more and go faster, please." While doing as you asked, he also slipped one of the straps off your shoulder, letting your breast bounce out of the bra. Carefully nibbling on your nipple, he'd pushed his knee between your legs to support you. With each second, your moves started becoming erratic as you ground against his hand, trying to match his palm's thrusts. "Shit, I think... I'm about to..." - Throwing your head backward, his lips found yours in a rough, passionate kiss. "Let go for me, c'mon, good girl." - His husky voice in your ears defused the bomb building inside your abdomen, letting you sink into his fingers in one last stretch. The orgasm felt surreal - his smell intoxicated your brain, your ears started ringing from the blood rushing inside your veins and your mouth produced the most erotic sounds it ever has.

"Holy shit, that was nice." - You admitted, gripping his shirt to lower him down for a proper kiss. "I want to hear this more often, sweetheart." - Vander chuckled, licking his fingers clean while staring you in the eyes. This view had you biting on your lip, kissing him once more just to feel his and your tastes mixed. This alone made you smirk. - "Can't believe how lucky I am to have you here. I imagined this so many times..." "Let me take care of you, big guy." - Leaving all the clothes in a discarded mess on the kitchen floor, your palm tugged on his palm to lead him inside the bedroom.

It was a bit messy, surely seen better days, but it felt very homey - his bed was unmade, clothes that he discarded in a rush were thrown over the chair and a collection of various books and papers gathered on the table. You could notice various framed pictures hanging on the wall but didn't go as far as to check them out. The bed seemed sturdy, excessive wooden frame resting at the mint green wall. You liked it. Even before you asked the first question, his lips crushed to yours, forcing you to back until your knees hit the edge of the mattress. While his hands started pulling his t-shirt off his body, you didn't waste any time unbuckling his belt, your lips kissing a wet trail on the skin he uncovered for you.

He'd been in better shape than you imagined - Vander wasn't the type to have his muscles flexing or rocking a six-pack, but he was slender with just the right amount of chubbiness sprinkled on top of it. Dad bod in its finest form, that's how Ezreal described it to you. You loved the curly hair on his chest; it wasn't too dense, just enough to look ridiculously hot. His happy trail below the belly button was very tasteful, making you moan breathily. Your fingers started to shake as you finally pushed his trousers down, putting your palms on his hips and taking a moment to simply adore him.

Vander was the most beautiful man you came across, there was doubt in your mind - you loved his fucking body. His palms were much larger in comparison to yours, also filled with small calluses due to his occupation, but the rest of his skin was smooth and warm. His stature was a sight to behold - broad shoulders, wide chest, and waist that simply begged to be puzzled between your thighs. Just by looking at the outline of his dick, you knew it was going to be a nice ride - its length was perfect for you, the only thing you were worrying about was how thick it appeared to be. "What's the frown for, doll?" - His voice broke you out of your thoughts, his thumb playing with your lower lip. "Never had someone so wide." - Your words made your pussy contract delightfully, already aching to feel him filling you to the brim. "I'm a handy guy, doll, I'm sure you can take it if I help you. But you gave me a promise, remember?" "Desert?" "Lay down for me, sweetheart, c'mon." - With a quick, skillful move, the bra slid off your shoulders, leaving you fully naked. And yet, you've never felt sexier as you laid down, letting him prop your back up with a pillow while getting on his knees. - "Look at the view, doll." -Vander murmured, pecking both your inner thighs. His smirk was screaming danger, but so fucking good-looking. You've been so aroused that the surrounding air felt cold on your core. - "Must be nicest I had in years. You're even wetter than before doll, God." - With a murmur, he'd kiss the sweet spot right above your clit, sliding his nose through your folds tantalizingly slow. - "You smell and taste so fucking good."

Then, he dived right in, taking you in his mouth with careful, slow, and precise movements - his tongue copied lazy circles around your throbbing bundle of nerves, and his palms and shoulders kept your legs spread wide open, no matter how many times you tried pushing them together. It could be felt he's skilled in eating out - even though he couldn't know what you liked, he started slow and looked at how you reacted, being perceptive enough to repeat the movements you seemed to enjoy and avoid those that made you frown. It didn't take him long to make you a whimpering, whiney mess - especially after his mouth dipped down to catch every bit of your arousal, licking you clean - his watery eyes were piercing through yours, watching as your breasts moved with each breath you took. When he pushed two fingers in once more, a long and needy moan filled his bedroom. That was when you broke off the eye contact and draped the sheets, concentrating on the heat slowly building in your abdomen, your toes curling against your will. His tempo was slow, playful... Vander was definitely taking his time with you.

"'s this what you imagined, doll? Havin' me on my knees, goin' insane over how you taste and sound?" - The man murmured into the skin on your thigh, sending light vibrations through your pussy as he chuckled upon listening to how you desperately tried putting a sensical sentence together. You failed miserably. As you stumbled on your words, his fingers sped up until you squirmed with pleasure, tightening the grip around his shoulders. - "With I could stay here forever, eatin' this pretty little cunt 'til my name's the only thing you remember. Such a pretty fuckin' little girl." "Vander, please, I need you." - With all the will remaining inside you, you managed to pick yourself up on your elbows, tugging on his hair. - "Please, baby, I need you so fucking much. Your tongue on me, your dick balls deep inside me, whatever you'd like... Just don't fucking stop." "Never, doll." - His mouth assaulted your sex with precision, devouring you like there was no tomorrow, even pushing his face further into you while his fingers worked wonders inside you. Your fingers tangled inside his hair, ensuring he wouldn't move an inch. The movements of his tongue became brutal the more your pelvis rode his face as you started chasing your release. He mumbled something, but you never got to know what it was - the vibrations were enough to send you over the edge, making your body tense up and thighs squeeze his head impossibly close to your clit as he continued sucking on it, riding you out of your high.

When your legs spread again, he gasped for air with a large smile, his beard glistening with your arousal. Fuck. Having him marked like that was turning you on. His fingers inside you didn't stop moving yet, enjoying the way your walls squeezed them. He enjoyed how you squirmed each time his thumb gently caressed your oversensitive bundle of nerves. "All good, doll?" "No one had... Jesus, hmpf... How... How are you so good at this?" "Just wanna see my girl happy, 's all. Love seein' your face like this." - Still working wonders between your legs, Vander picked himself off the floor to kiss you. Gently, he pressed in another finger, stretching you even more. But by Gods, it felt so good. - "We're there, baby girl."

Not breaking the kiss, his fingers slipped out of your slit, helping you to climb higher on the bed. Once again, you propped your pelvis up with a pillow, sinking your head into another. Vander caressed your cheek and kissed you before teasingly running his dick through your folds - you were still slippery enough thanks to the mix of his saliva and your arousal, so there wasn't a need for lubricating. His precum leaking out of the tip of his cock made it simpler. Still kissing you, he started teasing you cradling his pelvis back and forth with his dick aligned with your entrance, as if it was to slip any moment now; his other arm propped on the bedframe. "Ready, doll?" "Whenever you are." "Attagirl."

As soon as the tip of his cock slipped inside you, a hurtful hiss crossed your lips - his mouth was instantaneously back on yours, kissing you gently, the palm which was guiding his cock minutes later entangled with yours. Even though Vander did his best to loosen you up, he was still wide. The width made you gasp for air between kisses, each inch filling you like anything before. It didn't hurt, it was just a bit uncomfortable until you got used to the sensation. Your eyes sliding across his face and mouth wide open, you started enjoying the feeling of fullness, especially seeing the ecstatic, awed expression on his face. "Almost there, doll, almost there. You're takin' it so good." "It feels so good, baby. I love feelin' your dick inside me." - As you traced your fingers on his face, you could feel him throbbing upon your words. The sensation made you move against his body, letting the rest of the dick slip inside in one swift motion. - "Holy shit, fuck, fuck, fuck." "You look so fuckin' mesmerizing, takin' my dick like that." - His pelvis started moving carefully, sloppily slipping in and out of you. The sounds were so erotic, so perfect, turning you on even more.

When you felt like you could take it, you started to meet his thrusts halfway, making you both groan in pleasure. Your knees circle around his waist, pulling him deeper inside you - as he did his best to make love to you, his thrusts were playful, slow, and careful, making sure you're getting the most out of it. Vander was also making sure you'll be ready for when he'll start mercilessly fucking you like there's no tomorrow. "Mhmh, you feel so fucking good, Vander." "Love it when you say my name like this." "Vander..." - You moaned, feeling as his pace started picking up, his thrusts becoming more precise. - "God, Vander, Vander, Vander." "You'll be the death of me, fuck."

Before you grasped it, the headboard started banging into the wall as the bed creaked under the brutal tempo Vander had set - you didn't attempt to shush your screams and moans as you dragged your nails down his back, aching your back until your breasts met his chest. Both of you were sweaty and aching in the best way possible, sloppily kissing anytime you could. "I won't last for much longer, doll." - His voice was hoarse as he stared at your tits bouncing around, every semblance of sense erased from his mind. All Vander knew was how perfect you felt tightening around him, that this pussy must've been hand-made for him and him only, and that your moans were the most musical sounds he'd heard until that day. "Cum for me, big guy." "Where... Shit." - Vander sat up, putting his forearm under your back to keep you in position. This new sensation made you squirm, digging your nails deep into his forearm. He'd been even wider from this angle, filling you up better than before. - "Where do you want me, doll?" "Anywhere you want, Vander."

This was Vander's last stretch. His name falling off your lips in such a lewd manner fried his circuits, having him bury his dick deep inside you with one last thrust. Out of breath, Vander collapsed on your chest, listening to your fast heartbeat. Your fingers started playing with his hair and caressing his sweaty back, feeling the warmth spreading deep within you. Everything felt perfect. "You know how you said... You loved me?" "... Also said you don't have to say it back, Vander." "What if I'd like to, doll?" "... Then I'd be the happiest girl in the Lanes." "I love you." - The man murmured, picking his head up to look you in your eyes. The words made you smile widely as you held his pace in your arms, giggling. His softening member was still inside you, but neither of you seemed to be in the rush to pull it out.

"That's the fucking talking, big guy." "It ain't, on my honor. You're the best girl I've ever met. If you won't mind, I'd love to make you mine." "Then repeat it..." "I love you, doll." "Again." "I love you." "... One more time." "I love you, Y/N." "I love you too, Vander." - Cracking a smile, you let the man kiss you, losing yourself in his warm bear hug and embrace. Moments after, he finally picked himself up, walking to the bathroom to bring you a warm towel. Letting you clean yourself up, he disappeared into the kitchen to make you tea and pick up all your clothes scattered over the floor.

The night, just as he promised, was endless - he'd taken you from more positions, caressing your body with the utmost care, as if you were a goddess he wished to worship. You did your best to project his behavior, but you've been too lost in it all - his lips, warm skin, arms wrapped around each time part of your body, his groans in your ear, his beard scratching your lips anytime you kissed... It was around seven in the morning when you finally picked yourself up, pushing his shirt over your head. "Want something from the kitchen, big guy?" "All I want is you back as soon as you can." "Bet your ass..." - Before you could finish the joke, someone barged into the room, making you scream in surprise. You were moaning Vander's name just a few minutes back - who the fuck was this?

Looking at the incoming person, you've known the girl. You've already seen her serving in Vander's - the same violet hair, deadpan on her face as she looked at Vander covering himself with his sheets. "What the..." - You asked, looking at her. The girl, seemingly, ignored you. "... She did it again. I need your help, old man." "What? Who did what? Who are you? Vander?" - You asked with confusion, looking from Vander to the girl and back. "Oh, hi." - Suddenly, the trouble was forgotten as she leaned her shoulder into the doorframe, smiling at you cockily. - "Fancy seeing you here. Looking good." "Hi?" "What did Powder do this time?" - Vander sighed, bringing Vi's attention back to him. To hide the embarrassment, Vander massaged his face with a long sigh.

"We wanted to prepare some breakfast for you guys, so naturally, the stove's on fire." - The girl explained, but didn't seem to be in a rush to stop the ongoing apocalypse in the kitchen - now that you concentrated on it, you could hear distressed squeals and multiple people arguing, pans clinking on the metal - you could also see the smoke rolling out of the kitchen. The flat smelled hellish, making your eyes swell in tears from the subtle itching. "Cover the pan with a pot lid - it'll put out the flames. I'll be right over." "Hope you'll swing by too. Powder can't wait to meet you." - The girl picked herself off the doorframe, winking at you before closing the door.

"What the fuck was that?" - You asked, looking at Vander with disbelief. Who was she? Was she his daughter? Who are the other kids? You had your suspicions, yes, but this freaked you out more than you expected. You expected one, two kids at best - according to the ruckus, there were more people than that, though. "Listen, if you want to leave now, doll, I understand... I..." "Are these your kids?" "Sorta?" "Sort of? How can you 'sort of' have kids? "Adopted 'em little nuisances after the riots last year. None of 'em had a home to go back to - felt responsible for 'em. Listen, as I said, no one's holdin' you here. You must be furious..." "Fucking confused is what I am. Why didn't you tell me earlier?" "Wasn't confident 'nough if I'll even be what ya want without knowing I have four kids on my back." The vulnerable expression on his face made you soften up. Four kids was a lot, yes - his actions, however, were honorable. Where would they end up if Vander didn't step up, giving them a home and a loving fatherly embrace? The longer you stared at Vander, the more motivated you were to step out of the door confidently, sharing this awkward morning with all five of them, and taking everything it could give you. You... Wanted to meet them. You wished to know every possible side of Vander and share all the good and the bad with him. You wanted everything he was offering - whether it was holding your hand, kissing you during his shifts in the pub, all the mindblowing sex, warmth in his eyes as he whispered 'I love you', his fingers tracing your skin as you laid opposite each other and talked between fucking, his warmth, his love... You wanted it all. And if he had kids, that was a part of this little everything you wanted so bad, no matter how worried it made you.

"Was this the reason why you freaked out so bad?" "Ain't it obvious, Y/N? I'm almost forty, with a pub and four kids on my neck. Someone as young shouldn't worry about whether they have 'nough to eat, clothes to wear, 'bout what trouble they got themselves into this time... This ain't a life for such a young little thing." "But it's your life. And I want you..." "That's precisely why you shouldn't be wantin' me, doll. C'mon." "Stop making my decisions for me, Vander. Did you plan on telling me about the kids?" "Not for a bit... I was worried it would drive you away. I'm a selfish bastard, haven't you noticed?" "Fucking far from it. The least you could do was to tell me about them. It would make things less embarrassing." "What do you mean?"

"I mean, if you told me ahead of time, we could have our little rendezvous at my place - do you realize how awkward this is for me? For them also, I'm sure." "I'm sorry, Y/N... I didn't know how to bring it up..." "We better get going before Powder blows the kitchen up." "... You ain't gonna leave?" "Of course not. These kids are a part of your life, so I want to get to know them. Step by step. If let me stick around, I can be a good step-mum to them one day, maybe." "Are you serious?" - Vander asked, staring at you with his lips parted. "Dead serious." "I... Fucking love you, Y/N." "Right back at you, handsome. Move your ass before someone barges in to drag us into the kitchen."

___ Author's note: So, regarding Ezreal... I didn't want him to come across as a sappy romantic who's in love with the reader - he's more of a naïve playboy in my mind, constantly falling in love with whoever's in front of him, seeing different people every week. Ez definitely got the charm and rizz to pull something like that off. On the other hand, I think it could be a platonic love situation - they're both into each other (to one degree or another) - the reader doesn't date him, however, because she has standards, and Ezreal, as he admitted, would rather die than seeing someone like himself fooling around with her.

[thegingerheed]

How DELTATRAVELER is the funniest UT fangame by complete accident.

Over the course of the past year, I've talked a ton about various UT/DR fan-projects and my thoughts regarding them and their writing. One fan-work I have talked extensively about on various forums and threads being DELTATRAVELLER. For a while, I didn't know exactly how to feel about this game. It felt like an enigma to me. 

The game was enjoyable to play, it was entertaining to read. Yet I could never get myself invested in anything regarding the game's narrative or characters. It was as if the game was unintentionally written to obliterate (pun entirely intended) any and all chances for narrative investment in its story and characters. What the game did have over me was that it had me in histersics for the majority of its runtime. Yet, paradoxically, none of the jokes written to be funny landed for me. For a while I didn't fully know why and how it made me feel about the game as a whole. How can you say you enjoyed  something a lot whilst also laughing at it and acknowledging that under any other circumstance, it wouldn't be something that you'd consider to be good?

Spoiler alert: I found that answer, which I will now be explaining to YOU in weirdly esoteric detail !!!

But before we start, let's start of with the basic premise of DELTATRAVELER for those not in the know. 

What is a "DELTATRAVELER"

DELTATRAVELER is a UT/DR fangame about Kris, Susie and Noelle being isekai'd from a Post-Chapter 2 DELTARUNE into the worlds of various different video games and UNDERTALE on a quest to find a way home. The game was inspired and made off the back of "GOD FUCKING damnit KRIS where the FUCK are we!?" which was a very popular meme at the time of DELTARUNE: Chapter 2's release. 

Like DELTARUNE, the game is divided and released in chapters (dubbed 'sections' by the devs). Each chapter is set in a different world and has the Shit Squad (The objectively best name for the heroes) explore, fight and eventually find that world's "grey door" which serves as the end goal for the chapter as that will take the Shit Squad to the next world after the boss of the chapter is complete. In total the game is slated to have eight total chapters with what they are based on being revealed in advanced:

Chapter 1: UNDERTALE 

Chapter 2: Earthbound

Chapter 3: GG!UNDERFELL

Chapter 4: The Legend of Zelda: A Link to the Past

Chapter 5: TS!UNDERSWAP

Chapter 6: Mario & Luigi: Bowser's Inside Story

Chapter 7: Toontown Online

Chapter 8: The Dark (the game's finale)

Currently as of this post, DELTATRAVELER is still a work in progress with Chapter 3 being released back in December. As a result all discussion of the game of the game will be on Chapters 1-3 as those are what's out right now.

I think I should preface this post with me saying, I don't think DELTATRAVELER is a bad game, quite the opposite, actually! I enjoyed my time with it.

Mechanically, the gameplay is really well done, the physics feel very on point to UT/DR, which is surprisingly rare for a lot of UT fan-games. It felt like I was playing UT/DR and was rewarded for the skills I had gained from the collective hundreds of hours I have played these games. 

Visually, I think it looks very solid and charming. Seeing various locales and characters from other games being translated into UT/DR's iconic, sometimes janky artstyle is always cool to see and it will be very interesting to see how games like A Link to the Past are adapted in future chapters.

Musically, I think the game is fine. The original songs in the OST doesn't have anything I'd point to as "bangers" but also doesn't have anything I thought was particularly hard to listen to (With the outlier maybe being Eye for an Eye. The obligatory Megalo for the Sans fight in the GG!UNDERFELL chapter. But even then, I wouldn't even call the song "bad". I just don't like it too much and that's fine! just how music taste works.)

But to get to the main point. The most intreasting thing about DELTATRAVELER to me, is the way the game is written which has proven to be quite the controversial topic within the broader fandom which is what I'll try to give an in-depth and nuanced disection of but to put a long story short, I don't think this game is written well. Most of the core issues I have with DELTATRAVELER's writing can be attributed to a single, fundamental flaw. That being how the game handles it's "tone"

Explaining Tone

In writing, Tone is a very multi-factor concept, working as the bedrock for a given work. To put it simply and cleanly, tone is basically "the vibes" of a given thing. Tone can come in a lot of different flavours. Whether that be the tone of a given scene, the work itself or even the tone of an entire series. Tone is important as keeping tone consistent with itself is one of the major factors in narrative investment. It essentially tells the audience what they can and can't expect from a work of fiction.

Let's use this as an example:

You're watching a movie, in the movie there's a scene involving the protagonist having an anvil inexplicably dropped on their head by the antagonist.

If this movie was a comedy for children and family, the tone of this scene would ensure that this be as funny a punchline as possible or the set up for a funny punchline. This expectation built by the previous events of the story shields the narrative and characters from anything that might be too ill-fitting for the "comedy for child and family tone" it's trying to go for. At most the protagonist could be expected to suffer from a Loney Toons-like knockout rather than ending in a hospital bed with a shattered skull. Or, at worst, splattered and crushed across the pavement in an intensely gruesome fashion. If that happened, it wouldn't pass the story's "vibe check" which can cause something that I'll be calling "Tonal Whiplash"

If you want an example of "Tonal Whiplash" and the effects it can have on the audience, look no further than Shadow the Hedgehog

This game, to be frank. Is fucking hilarious and this is in part due to the mere concept of the game about Shadow using a gun breaking the tone set series-wide by other Sonic games and media in the past. (Expect Sonic Adventure 2, that has similar issues to a lesser extent)

It takes a series about stopping egg-themed villain from ruling the world to trying to assassinate the president and watching as a innocent girl gets shot in the back by what is basically, the USA military. And it all tries to do this in the Sonic series' iconic, albeit rather corny writing while also intened to appeal to older kids and be "cool". It leaves the game being kinda a clusterfuck even beyond just its tone issue, in a very funny way.

Now, this isn't to say that breaking tone is necessarily a bad thing all the time. Sometimes it's intentional, a way to make a moment hit harder, surprise the audience or all of the above. However, breaking tone is a narrative risk and if it fails you risk hurting the narrative investment your audience has within your work and to top it off once tone has been broken, it can't really be put back together with a story. You'll basically be shifting the tone of the story from that point on.

An easy example of this tonal shift is UT itself with it's Geno Route.

How UNDERTALE handles it's tone

UT's tone is one that acknowledges its nature as a video game with the usage of diegetic game mechanics like SAVING and the battle system.

This has many unique effects, for example means things like death as a concept is something that is treated rather lightly within the game's tone, the game even joking about it on the occasion. It's rather pointless treating death as anything other than a slight inconvenience to the human when you directly acknowledge that they can undo it by simply not wanting to die.

This treatment of death intentionally clashes with how it's treated when you kill monsters in a Geno Route. Papyrus is a shining example of this. Being something of an emotional obstacle for the player. Designed to make the player feel shit. Basically UT's writing is effectively, unapologetically trying to guilt trip you as another test of your determination to see this run to its completion.

The emotional weight of this scene is less carried by the idea of death and more so the fact that you hurt one of your favourite characters and won't see him anymore for the remainder of the run. It's more character focused, if you've already begun to withdraw your narrative investment and attachment to the characters or if you simply just don't give a fuck, it's not gonna make you feel anything. It'd just be another monster to slay, another number to increase.

Now you might find yourself wondering. How can UT be funny and sad without it leading to side effects normally seen by "tonal whiplash"? UT is funny, sure. There's a lot of jokes, each joke told in UT is a joke told by either a character or the world. Each joke means something beyond it being a funny line. But UT can also be heartfelt, like the walk up to Asgore. It all further fleshes these characters out making them feel more deep and layered, it treats it's world and characters not as jokes to be laughed at but as people, people who can be funny, people that can be sad and down even if you and the game both know that deep down, they aren't real. Just bundles of pixels and dialogue for your entertainment which is what makes Geno's clash work.

Your attachment to the characters and world. It's sudden, yes. But that's why it hits. NPCs vanish and their absence is felt, the once lively music replaced with a slowed drone. It all feels empty. It's dark, all because you have killed the things that gave this game its "light". UT's tone is something that . The tone of Pasifist runs reinforce and bring greater impact to Geno runs and that's why it feels less like tonal whiplash to the audience.

Now, let's get to DELTATRAVELER. If we want to establish how DELTATRAVELER establishes a tone for itself what best than analysis the beginning?

How DELTATRAVELER handles it's tone

After an amusing title screen and a quick file selection, we open with Kris and Susie on a bed of flowers, the first room of UT. After a brief moment of the two getting their bearings, they stand up and Susie turns to Kris before saying "God Damnit Kris! Where the hell are we?!!" fit with a silly pose and sound effect. A reference to the meme that inspired the game's creation.

The next scene is in the very next room and it's encounter with Flowey. Here he attempts the same speech he said in UT before Susie cuts him off, gets him to spill the beans that he was actually after Kris' SOUL before getting into a battle. Where they make a joke about DR battles being different from UT battles before Susie bashes her HUD into Kris' creating a unique one that DELTATRAVELER uses before blasting Flowey away with Rude Buster.

Off the cuff, DELTATRAVELER isn't really being serious. So far it's spent the first couple of scenes essentially making jokes around the characters, world and basic premise of the game and the game will continue to do this with inclusion such as Ralsei smoking a blunt, referencing a meme of the same name and Noelle making expressions referencing both a popular SpongeBob and MegaMind memes. On its own, this isn't really a bad thing, sure I may personally find it very unfunny but the game starting off with various memes isn't even a negative in principle, it just indicates that it doesn't want the audience to take it too seriously, which if that was the intention, would be fine. The issue DELTATRAVELER has with it's writing is that it unfortunately does want me to take it seriously.

The game makes an attempt to emulate UT's writing style, attempts to have serious moments sprinkled amongst jokes. However, unlike UT, DELTATRAVELER's brand of humour is basically solely self aware memes. Oftentimes, made at the expense of its own characters and world, leaving the moments where the game actually wants to be taken serious to fall flat.

Things like Kris' nightmare during Chapter 3, where they wonder why they are cursed with our control before lamenting about how much they want to rip their SOUL out and destroy it. Before crying out that they "Don't want to die alone." Doesn't have the impact the game wants it to have, because prior to that point, the game had basically already told the audience not to take the game too seriously, thus hurting any narrative and emotional investment the player could form with this interpretation of Kris as a character leading up to that point.

The same can be said with DELTATRAVELER's Geno Route equivalent, dubbed by the devs as The Obliteration Route watching the game in one route go from, "Ralsei Dobbie! No Bitches? Vine boom!" to beating and slaughtering a beloved protagonist and watching the kid bleed out on the ground as the other fights for revenge whilst a cover of (fucking) MEGALOVANIA starts playing in another takes what should be a very climactic and emotional moment and turns it into the single funniest boss fight I have played.

And that isn't counting the various other characterization issues present throughout the route as a whole. Characters like Noelle and Susie have no real reason to help Kris with the run once they notice them seemingly going around looking for people to slaughter. DELTATRAVELER especially when the game then goes out of its way to show the player that both party members have the digetic ability to reject the player's control, to the point where they can refuse to enter battles with Kris entirely.

But they don't, they'll even attack Ness and Paula under a certain percentage of health even after Susie tells explicitly Kris to not kill them. It leads to the game putting the blame on Kris and then The Player for a situation Susie and Noelle also have established agency over. Susie can help and kill a ton of monsters yet still be pissed at Kris for what is, under the game's internal logic, still a choice she chose to follow. The game tries to remedy this via Chapter 3's talk with the trio and it's better, sure. But it still leaves the writing in this strange place of hypocrisy with the characterization to me.

One scene that sticks out to me as particularly odd being after a secret Gaster lore dump cutscene on an Aborted Obliteration run has Noelle say:

"Kris..."

"If you were serious about not having control."

"You would've done it."

Directly implying that she thought Kris should've jumped off the cliff... which is just a strange inclusion, I feel is... Done more so to enlist a reaction in the player rather than creating important moments that respects the world and established characterization.

On the topic of weird characterization, let's talk Sans...

In the GG!UNDERFELL chapter, the main antagonists are Papyrus and Sans. Papyrus, is written, pretty recognisably from his Canon Counterpart. Sans however? Is a mess and a wonderful mess, at that. They take this very edgy, unhinged approach to his character, making him into an insane killer type of character similar to AUs like Dusttale. Throughout the chapter, he tries his damnest to kill Kris and take their SOUL, talking vaugely about a gurdge that doesn't ever get elaborated on. This approach creates a dynamic between Sans and Papyrus, where Sans is basically on Papyrus' metaphorically leash. Reaching a breaking point where he kicks Papyrus off a cliff, rushes at Kris like a feral dog before being being thrown off the bridge, leading to his battle.

His battle... oh my god his battle! It was easily the best part of the game, to the point it had to have its dialogue rewritten, the reason for this being honestly something I cannot begin to accurately describe to you while also doing the scene justice. So here's a clip from Andrew Cunningham's playthrough.

This isn't even the ironic either, this was just how Sans was written. The tone takes itself very seriously, this creates this type of divide where the game has already conditioned you not take it seriously, while trying to take itself completely seriously. It's peak tonal whiplash and it makes the scene, and the fight as a whole, unintentional hilarious.

Final Thoughts

The weirdest part? I don't even care. I've spent the better half of this essay arguing the flaws in DELTATRAVELER's writing, and while I do think they are all valid positions to have, for me? I don't really care about it that much, it's these issues that make me like the game. It's really funny in a very earnest, albeit unintentional way and at the end of the day. It's entertaining to read and there is value there. It's why I am not big on the rewrite of GG!Fell Sans. His issues come from fundemental aspect of his character that couldn't be changed with a simple rewrite, nor should it have it been expected to, as a result however, it doesn't really fix his character for me, it just takes a big part of what I enjoyed from him away. It's sort of a shining example on how when creating, you do not have a choice on how other people see your work. Some jokes you might tell might land and be funny, but also to some, may be brutally annoying and that's just the beauty of the beast. There's always room to analyse, to see if what the creator wanted to convey reads back to the audience. But even if there is critical flaws with the writing, enjoyment of that writing isn't inheritantly attached to author intentions or even the quality of the content, it's a feeling, a subjective one at that. It's why I could say I don't like Sonic the Hedgehog and Kingdom Hearts for being too corny and cheesey but to others, that's exactly what they love about it, and there's a lot of value in that.

There isn't a correct way to have an opinion, a right way to like or dislike something. You like things for the reasons you like them, you dislike you dislike them and that's fine.

However, I do want to take the time in this post to address pretty plevalent fandom issue perpetuated by the wider.

In the past, the UT/DR community was, to be frank rather toxic and elitist, it still is, depending on where you look. Overtime though, there's been a shift, whether be because those types of people moved on to other things or simply grew out of that behaviour, it doesn't matter why just that it has happened. There's a lot more positivity in this community and that is great to see. All healthy communities need such things. However, I do believe that as a result of this, the fandom now is suffering from a "rubber band mentality" where we've pulled too far in the opposite direction, leading to what feels like ironically "toxic positivity".

A lot of people feel very passionate about these fan-projects and that should be celebrated. However a trend I've seen in this fandom, one which has had a net negative effect on this community, is how we as a community react to people voicing opinions/ making jokes or just talking negatively about these beloved works.

You see it a lot with works like UNDERTALE: Yellow, DELTATRAVELER, Inverted Fate, all of the big fandom projects. Everytime a critique or just a joke about a fan-work gets more than like 10K Views on social media, the entire fandom begins to fold into basically damage control, regressing into "can we just not be so negative about the super popular fandom work loved by thousands?" People that voice their opinions on these work, especially negative opinions, get dogpiled, mocked and dismissed because according to them they "don't understand the writing", "hate fan works" or are just being "bitter about works made with passion and love and should simply shouldn't engage", even when said people once taking the time to actually hear them out, provide criticism that's honestly pretty valid.

I'd understand if people were directly going after devs, commenting under their tweets, invading their own communities just to mock and be the answer to a question nobody answered. That is wrong and should be called out. Voicing how funny or even terrible you think certain scenes are on your public social media? Ultimately, that's harmless in the grander scheme of things and I feel like fans and creators should be mindful of how they react to things because at the end of the day. People are allowed to voice their opinions, they are also allowed to make jokes and laugh at the writing, they are allowed to do all of that. People want to treat fan works like works of art and I am right there with them, but if you want to do that, you have to actually start treating them like art and accept it's a completely subjective thing. People will have different thoughts about them and that's okay! The moment you start policing what thoughts should and shouldn't be expressed is when any meaningful discussion dies. This whole mentality that since it took hard work and dedication to make a fan project should be celebrated to the highest order and treated as an object of reverence, absolved from all criticism is a harmful mentality to fall into. A thing can both require hard work and dedication and also be criticised and joked about by people. These two can co-exist. One doesn't somehow counteract and invalidate the other.

For some, analysing and critiquing media is a fun thing to do! It helps you get a better understand of the medium you're analysing, what works and what doesn't. It's legitimately fun to have discussions about. Being negative about works, even if they are works of passion aren't the end of the world, especially when they are just posts made by people just minding their own business. Jokes? Shitposts? They should all be allowed, because that's also how some people enjoy works of fiction. And if you don't want to see it? Valid but there are countless methods available to ensure that that don't involve creating a "good vibes only" type of fandom environment that everyone is forced to adhere to. That helps nobody and only breeds division within this community, I think.

[merakiui]

I stumbled upon your Ruggie fic where he accidentally knocked up MC and I was like "oh my god that's a banger." Then I scrolled to your tags and I short-circuited.

AS A RIDDLE STAN??? YOU'RE SO BIG BRAINED??? LIKE ok yeah with him being the perfect kid and all and his mom I always wondered (a perfectly healthy and normal amount) what would happen if he got MC pregnant?

That Ruggie fic was so real!! So well done!! If you don't mind, could you elaborate what you think would happen with Riddle? You don't have to write a whole fic or anything! Just briefly share your thoughts with the class (me) if you would be so kind please!! 🤓

Frothing at the mouth,

Riddlelover69

Hello, Riddlelover69!!! Allow me to share the thoughts. >:D

(cw: brief nsfw, female reader, accidental pregnancy, mentions of alcohol/intoxication, riddle's mother, fwb dynamic, mentions of abortion)

Riddle is floored when you break the news to him. He's in so much disbelief even after you've provided him with physical evidence (the pregnancy test). He insists you take another one just to be sure because he's so certain that you can't possibly be pregnant. He has always been so careful and responsible when the two of you were intimate; he made sure to wear protection each time and he never did anything reckless. But then the second test comes back positive and he's absolutely stunned. Where did he go wrong? How did this happen? He's never been careless. This must be a mistake!

Riddle lives in denial for three days before it occurs to him. Weeks prior to this discovery, the both of you were attending a stargazing party Cater had thrown in the Heartslabyul rose maze. He'd practically begged Riddle to let him host it. Apparently it was going to be "super cammable" and a "perfect opportunity for lots of stupid fun." Riddle should have known his angle when he slipped vodka into the fruit punch Trey made, and he should have realized the wine Cater had been discreetly serving everyone. "Stupid fun" must have meant stupid drunk. Where he even got the alcohol from was beyond Riddle. He had intended to scold him; he was ready to sever his head for breaking so many rules. But then you were passing a glass into his hand and he knew it would be wrong and inappropriate for him to drink when he was meant to be the upstanding, always obedient Housewarden.

You were smiling, nudging him playfully, saying something teasing. The two of you are close friends (fuck buddies, according to Cater), not lovers, and Riddle really shouldn't have entertained your blatant rule-breaking. But lately he's wanted to impress you; he wanted to show you that he can be cool—that he's not always so stiff and formal and boring. Great Seven, he nearly died from the shame when you had jokingly said that to him. He doesn't want to be boring. He wants to be fun and not so awkward all the time. He wants to branch out and have a lot of friends. He wants to be effortlessly relaxed like you.

He's not, but with the music swelling in time with his heart and your own melodious laughter in his ears he could delude himself into thinking so. And foolishly Riddle broke his own moral compass, NRC's rules, Heartslabyul's rules, and even the unspoken rules put in place by his mother. And for one night you thought he was cool and so did he. And for one night he was not boring. For one night he could kiss you silly without worrying about perfecting the technique or the placement of his hands on your hips or what to do about his reputation should anyone find out (not that it mattered to you, but it meant the world to him).

One night, under an inky canvas of stars (they looked more like chips of glass to Riddle, but then his mind was foggy and his senses were all tangled and he was so obviously intoxicated, but that didn't matter; ironically enough, he was having fun breaking rules with you), he did away with formality and fucked you raw in a shadowed corner of the rose maze, far enough from any prying eyes but close enough where you could still hear the music, feel the thrum of it between the both of you.

And now, weeks later, the result of such a reckless night rears its ugly head. And oh is it ugly. He's not sure what he should do. For once in his perfect, well-tailored life, he is completely lost. He tries not to panic—tries to act like everything's normal, but he has never been a particularly convincing actor and it doesn't take long for those close to him to suspect he's stressed. How you can be so calm about all of this is beyond him. You're pregnant! Aren't you worried what everyone will say and think? Aren't you even a little concerned for your future? His schedules are already complicated and cramped enough. Fitting a child in there is impossible!

And beyond all of that, past NRC's gates and all the way in the Queendom of Roses, his mother waits. He absolutely can't tell her. It's one thing to devote oneself to a no-strings-attached relationship (she would definitely disapprove of you); it's another to impregnate said friend with benefits, especially when he isn't even finished with school yet or married. He's meant to be perfect (he's not; no one is), but how can he look and be perfect if this is hanging over his head like a guillotine's blade?

His mother will definitely disown him. He can already hear her shrill screams. She'd probably say something like, "If you have the time to fool around, then you can spend that time acting like one." She wouldn't offer any support or comfort. It would just be harsh and cruel scoldings. She wouldn't acknowledge him or you. It would be so easy for her to snip him out of her life as if he was nothing more than a paper person on a chain of paper people, entirely useless and flimsy in her eyes. A failure—that's what he would be. She couldn't boast about him to friends and coworkers. Not after this.

You have to get rid of it. He tells you this a week later when the both of you are cooped up in his room to discuss the issue at hand. Riddle has never truly argued with you, but the both of you are going back and forth over what to do with the baby and his temper is rising. For some reason you want to keep it. He's so stressed and panicked and livid. No, you're not keeping it! He tells you to stop calling the baby a "them" because it's an "it" and that's all it will ever be. You look genuinely hurt when he says that, and his chest is heaving wildly as he catches his breath, throat raw from yelling.

He...went too far. He shouldn't have said that, and even when he sees the tears in your eyes he knows right away that he's doing everything completely wrong. And you admit in a hushed, broken voice that you're scared, too. That you feel so horrible for being reckless. That you know this isn't ideal. And it occurs to Riddle then that you have never been the calm and collected person he's often admired. You are just as frenzied as him.

He exhales a slow, exhausted breath, allowing his shoulders to deflate. He apologizes for raising his voice, for saying those terrible things, for panicking. He can give you time. It's your body; you're the one carrying the baby. Naturally he thinks it should be your choice, even if he's adamant that you get rid of the baby, but Riddle hates to see you so distraught. Arguably, he hates that more than he hates this situation. And he likes you. It's always lingered in a crevice of his mind, a romantic attraction that was getting harder to snuff the longer he stayed with you, the more he got to know you, the more he allowed himself to open up to you.

He walks you back to Ramshackle Dorm. It's the polite thing to do, and the both of you are silent during the walk. He bids you a stiff, boring, hollow farewell. It's more than fleeting admiration, Riddle muses as he turns on his heel and begins the trek back to the Hall of Mirrors. But regrettably he finds himself shying away from you in the following weeks, too frightened to touch you. He can't. He doesn't want to, and he thinks it's because this mistake is too life-altering for him to confront.

He broaches the subject to Trey some time later with a vague, yet extremely convoluted hypothetical: "If you did something wrong and another person was affected by it and the both of you were left with a difficult decision, would you let the other person make the final choice?" Trey considers it, always so level-headed and logical. He asks what this difficult decision entails. Riddle chews his lip, peers into his teacup, and mutters something about life and death and embryos and the science behind reproduction and how long it takes for something to be considered human—to be considered conscious and alive—and what one should do when contemplating such a thing and...he's rambling.

Trey gives him that look—that hardened stare that pierces his soul and seems to know of every secret he's kept buried (Cater calls it the "dad stare"—whatever that means). He knows. Riddle is a poor liar. Trey doesn't say it, but when he asks, "Who?" Riddle knows what the question means. He wrings his hands under the table, clasping and unclasping them. They're shaking; he's on the verge of tears. He whispers your name.

Trey lets the admission settle like sediment on the sea floor. He nods, hums, stirs the batter for the cake he's currently baking, and then hums some more. "I can't give you an answer," he eventually says, offering a sympathetic frown. "Sorry." He tries to say more, but nothing comes out and instead he returns to whisking, allowing the silence to console Riddle instead. It doesn't work as intended.

Riddle holds his head in his hands, elbows propped on the marble surface of the island. In the Heartslabyul kitchen, where everything smells so sugary sweet, he cries. He's never felt more lost.

Riddle can't avoid you forever. That same day he approaches you and tells you that if you're so determined to keep the baby you will have to convince him. Whether that's by powerpoint or bribery (at this point he's desperate to adopt your views, so please, by all means, bribe him with sweets and let him drown in sugar so that he can ignore the looming threat of his mother back home), he's willing to hear you out. It's only fair, and if the two of you can reach a decision (preferably as soon as possible) he can start planning ahead. You're not sure how you should go about convincing him, so in the meantime Riddle resolves to read up on pregnancy, if only to further educate himself.

He scours the library for information and finds Lilia who is, arguably, as ancient as some of these textbooks and might be a reliable source of information. Riddle doesn't intend to tell him anything, but when Lilia offers to aid him in what he notes looks like a "very important search" Riddle submits.

It doesn't take Lilia long to put a few clues together when Riddle tells him he's looking for books about child care and pregnancy. It also doesn't take him long to theorize who might be carrying a child. For some reason Riddle feels ashamed as he quietly admits the truth, thus confirming all of Lilia's suspicions. Somehow telling Lilia this feels like telling a parent or an adult or some authority figure; he expects a scolding. Instead Lilia smiles warmly and tells Riddle that children are like miracles: sometimes you can plan for them and other times you cannot, but what's most miraculous is the bond forged between those who raise a child. They are tough work and you might encounter many troubles and doubts along the way. But if you can look for happiness in miraculous, magical mistakes, you will find love. Riddle stares at him, dumbfounded. Is Lilia really just a third year?

The first time you try to convince him is with a poorly assembled slideshow displaying the benefits of keeping the child. "Think of the cute clothes we can get!" you say, to which Riddle responds with, "Think of the expenses, (Name)." You are not one to give up, puffing your cheeks out at him. He rolls his eyes, but he sits up straight and continues to listen, watching as you click through images of firsts. First loose tooth. First day of school. First drawing. First handprint and footprint. First word. First laugh. The list is endless, apparently, and so is Riddle's sanity as he endures it. But he's smiling as he watches your wild gesticulations.

The second time you try to convince him is just as bad, if not worse, than the first time. "Riddle me this, Riddle," you say while he's in the middle of studying. He does not want to riddle you anything, but he listens anyway. He always does. "You plus me equals..."

"That is not a riddle. That's an equation," he corrects, not yet taking his eyes off the page. "And it equals trouble. Nothing good."

You're silent for too long, so finally he turns to look at you. Your eyes are glued to your phone. Riddle furrows his brow. Did he say something wrong? Was he too mean?

"All right, I got it! Riddle me this. One plus one equals three."

"Again, another equation."

"Not true! This article says it's a pregnancy riddle, not an equation."

"Did you...look up riddles?"

"Pregnancy riddles, yes. They're not really good."

Riddle scrubs at his face, suddenly weary. "Three is too big a number."

"Maybe for you, but not for me."

There should only be two, he thinks. You and me. But even that is a troublesome combination.

The third time you try to convince him is with a box of mini tarts, all in various flavors. He peers at them and then at you. You're rocking back and forth on your heels, eagerly awaiting his reaction. When he doesn't immediately give one, you groan and sink into the chair beside him. "Can I please keep the baby?"

Riddle snorts through a laugh and then clears his throat, neutralizes his amused expression, and says, "Resorting to begging already? And you were so confident last week."

You huff and slouch in your seat. He intends to correct you, but then you're stuffing a tart in his mouth. "I would look cute pregnant, wouldn't I?" you ask, batting your eyelashes and catching him so off guard he chokes on his bite of tart. Riddle sputters, his face the color of roses, and stands from his chair, promptly excusing himself.

You are a nuisance, but he agrees. You would look very cute.

The fourth time you try to convince him is with the help of Trey. "Trey can make the sweets for the baby shower," you say. Your grip on Trey's forearm suggests he is not a willing participant in...whatever this is, but it has Riddle quirking a fond smile.

He folds his arms across his chest and glances between you and Trey, his next words addressing the latter. "You would do that?"

Trey grins boyishly and responds with, "If I had to."

You tut at him. "Trey, we rehearsed this. You're supposed to say, 'I'll make a strawberry tart so big it'll need to sit on two tables.'"

Riddle's laughter surprises both you and Trey, and as he wipes an invisible tear from his eye, he says with a playful smirk, "I'll hold you to it when the time comes, Trey."

As he makes his graceful departure, he hears your disbelieving exclamation: "Do you think it worked?!"

The fifth time you try to convince Riddle is in the bedroom. You're lying on your side, peering at him with a silly, sex-drunk smile. "What if we got married?"

"We have to," he mumbles absentmindedly, his mind replaying the past few minutes in a loop. He wonders if he was too rough. He doesn't want to hurt the baby... What is he thinking? There's still time to get rid of it. It doesn't matter if he was rough (it does; he's worrying).

"Really?" Your eyes are blown wide. "You'd actually marry me?"

Riddle gazes at you, collecting context clues to comprehend your angle. "I should be asking you that question."

"Why? I would marry you, not your mother."

"You might as well be, though," he mutters bitterly, glaring at the canopy that envelops his bed. "I'm aware she is not an ideal in-law."

"Then we'll run away. You, me, and Baby Riddle."

"That is a horrible name." He peers at you, his features softening. "We're not calling the baby Baby Riddle."

"Why not? It's cute."

"Hardly." His gaze travels to your stomach. Soon you'll show and when you're round enough it'll be impossible to hide this secret. "Well... Humor me. Where would we go if we ran away?"

"Anywhere you'd like." He opens his mouth to stop your wild imagination, but you beat him to it. "'Think of the expenses, (Name)!' Just hear me out. Anywhere could mean anywhere, but it could also mean nowhere. And maybe nowhere is our anywhere."

Riddle chuckles. "You sound just like Che'nya."

"Do you think he knows?"

"Possibly."

"Really?"

"He's anywhere and nowhere."

"Cheeky..." You shuffle closer to him, pressing your forehead against his. "So cheeky."

Riddle wants to say it. He wants to empty his heart right here, right now. He loves you and, though it took some time to warm up to the idea, he wants to start a family with you. He wants to be more than friends. He wants to marry you and experience all of your child's firsts alongside you. It doesn't matter if his mother disapproves because this is arguably the best mistake he's made in a while. A miraculous, magical mistake.

Before you can swallow the words in a kiss, he blurts them hastily. "I... I love you." But there's more, and perhaps he's confined himself in a misleading dream when reality and encroaching worries melt away. But he needs to tell you. "And I... I really want to be a father. A-And I want you to be a mother! I don't care about what others will say anymore. Admittedly, it was...fun to misbehave with you that night. It certainly wasn't responsible, but I enjoyed it. Far more than I should have." That last part is murmured, but you catch it. Riddle finds your hands under the covers and squeezes them. "You've convinced me. I'd like to start a family with you."

You smile and then tears are spilling and then you're smiling again. He knows he's crying because his eyes are wet and glassy, and for a while the two of you cling to each other, sobbing about everything and nothing, laughing through blubbery cries.

And Riddle realizes three isn't a big number. Rather, it's a pleasant number. Not perfect because nothing truly is, but it's more than enough for him. And that's really all that matters right now.

[canmom]

tsv season 2 is banger after banger so far.

e17 was fantastic - love that the least awful god we've met so far is a god of peaceful deaths and burying the dead, seems fitting for this setting. Sarah Golding as Sister Acantha was great, love hearing UK regional accents and very fitting to this side character - and of course opposite her, Méabh de Brún is knocking it out of the park as she always does, i have got to find out what else she's been in because i am so blown away by her range.

episode 18 gives us another strong 'civilised' sacrifice story, absolutely nailing the affable indifferent cruelty of the toffs there - more excellent voice acting, i love how put out the son gets that his party gets spoiled. recurring theme that, if you start out poor, trying to succeed on the system's terms is just serving yourself up on a plate. although it's hard to hit the highs of episode 7, especially without the complicity of Paige as the emotional dimension - we kinda know what's going to happen by this point - I appreciate here that when it revisits a theme, they are taking pains to include some new wrinkle or extra dimension. we're slowly fleshing out the political structure of this world, without being overbearing with it.

it's funny, i was joking about being weirdly proximate to podcasting celebrity johnny sims the other day, but I was not expecting him to cameo in episode 19. dude really gets around. it kind of throws me because he has such a distinctive voice that you can't hear him in a scene without it being like Oh, Johnny From The Mechanisms is here! especially since he's playing the exact kind of condescending evil-scientist character that could easily show up in any mechs album. (i am going to insist on calling him that even if i get around to TMA, less for any particular love for the mechs but more because it amuses me to forever define him by a semi-obscure, deeply nerdy band from Oxford.) I will say again that Slay the Princess was really onto something in having you spend most of the game antagonising the Johnny who's doing that voice.

foley work is getting better and better too.

need to find out if there's any canonical appearance info on the characters in this series, because I'm increasingly feeling fanart would be a fun thing to do.

[joshleyson]

THIS IS: SIARGAO ✨

December film dump 🎞️

Growing up in Mindanao for almost 2 decades and never actually being able to traverse the picturesque landscapes in the eastern part of the island is something that I know I have to break before the year ends. So I did.

I flew from Manila to Cebu so early in the morning to catch a connecting flight to Siargao by noon. Traveling to Siargao was a lot of firsts for me. Not having to go to every detail but when the plane was about to take off to Siargao, we were all offloaded due to the bad weather on the island. Fortunately, instead of having to fly back to Manila, the airline was kind enough to take me to a nearby hotel in Cebu, all expenses paid including food, transportation, and next-day ticket. It was an unexpected staycation which surprisingly I enjoyed.

Coming from a very tiring day at work and then going to the airport, I felt like I really needed this quiet time, and I was able to check in to this lavish hotel all by myself while waiting for my flight the next day. Also, I had a great night as well in Cebu catching up with one of my long-time friends and her beaux. I went back to my hotel around 3 in the morning because there’s just so many things to catch up and I really missed my homie so much. Keyword: low-maintenance friendships.

So the day finally came, and I was able to land safely on the island of Siargao. Right off the bat on my first night, I had a lovely dinner with my travel friends slash buddies at work and we went to a bar, and danced the night away which to me serves as a prelude to the great experience this vibrant community had in stored for me as a Mindanaoan that have never set foot beyond the confines of Zamboanga and western Mindanao.

We spent our days being on the road which to me was such a release. Being able to smell the fresh ocean breeze while blasting our favorite Y2K songs in the car and relying on Waze or Google Maps for our next destination, to me, makes the trip so much fun because of the spontaneity and unpredictability that it brings. We went island hopping, danced in the boat, swam on open waters, ate our hearts out, moved from one accommodation to another, and I tried surfing for the first time! I never thought I would enjoy the experience because it was raining lightly at that time and the waves were so big it could easily engulf me, but man, best day ever!!!! I fell on the surfing board and slammed my body on the rushing waves several times but being able to stand on the surfboard for the first time was such a liberating experience. A little bit of a stretch, but it was and I will try it again once I go back to Siargao.

☾

I flew back to Cebu and then to Manila to catch one of my friend’s wedding and luckily I made it with no delay. Looking at the pictures that I got to develop from a Fuji film camera that I brought with me on the island, I am reminded again of the incredible healing power of what it’s like to try new things, be with nature, and just breathe. Knowing that the year is about to end in a couple of weeks, I felt so blessed to have that opportunity to break the complicated rhythm of corporate life and to disconnect for a moment. 

After 3 weeks, I get to fly back to Boracay to celebrate New Year’s Eve. So many epic moments that I am also grateful for which I may save for the future but nevertheless, my last month of 2023 was such a banger and I hope it always feels that way.

By the way, I’m writing all these on my iPhone because I’m too tired to get up and open my MacBook, so I appreciate you for hanging with me this far. So that’s it for 2023!

Simply put, I just want to say Happy Holidays to you and your loved ones, and may 2024 be as effervescent as your hopes and dreams for the future.

J.

(December, 2023)

(Photos were shot using Fujifilm Simpleace 35 mm camera + iPhone 15 Pro Max)

FOLLOW ME: Instagram/TikTok/Twitter: joshleyson

(Music by Grammy nominee, Victoria Monét. All rights belong to her and her publishers. For personal and non-commercial use only. Stream her great catalogue on Spotify and Apple Music.)

[amazingmsme]

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Do you have any preferences in design choices with Polites, Odysseus and the other characters from EPIC? Or any specific headcanons with specific designs/ design choices you love seeing in different person's designs?

Anything specific you use in your designs for all of them?

It's late for me, I hope that question makes enough sense— did I say something with DeSIgN???

And once more, how are you? I hope you are having/were having a great day! (And no more MoRe trauma from the trauma-bringer-saga)

Thank you, I’m doing pretty good! So sorry it took a while to get to it, but I’m finally clearing out the ol’ ask box a bit! I absolutely love seeing all the different designs for the characters from different artists, but there are a few staples I love!

Odysseus: never has hair shorter than his shoulders, & it’s got some wave to it! Maybe he’s born with it, maybe it’s maybeline ✨ really enjoy the armor designs I’ve seen for when they’re in battle, but I feel like he’d wear the chest plate more often. He’s got the lil hat that Penelope made for him! Idk if he’d wear it a lot after everything that’s happened to them because he’s so worried something will happen to it. Instead he’d keep it somewhere safe that only he knows about, it in a very secure pocket

He always has some facial hair, even when he’s not hermit evil man trying to get home. But he keeps it short & well groomed, along with his hair. This bitch is probably so particular about his hair care & has special oils n shit

Eurylochus: I am such a fucking simp for the one shoulder pad design, it’s always a banger but it just looks SO good on him! He likes to keep his hair shaved & has a curved knife he uses just for that. He’s actually a bit of a germaphobe & lowkey freaks out if he sees anyone using it for something else

He’s one of the tallest in the whole crew, so his toga rides up a lil bit higher on his thigh than some of the shorter crew members

I haven’t seen this anywhere else, but I think he’d have one of Ctimene’s scarfs to use as a belt

Polites: the glasses & headband are practically canon at this point, are you kidding me? I’ve always pictured it as a red headband, but I don’t think the color matters much here

I picture him with short curly hair that gets floofy & messy when it grows out. He fusses over it so bad when it grows out too much, so the headband absolutely serves a purpose

His face is more round & full & he has an absolutely dazzling smile & the biggest dimples you’ve ever seen