#i am honestly not sure what at present to explore

[boxwinebaddie]

odd thing to bring up after i talked about how i'm finally trying to write for myself and not other people, but because i start and don't finish so many projects...i'm honestly not even sure where to go? i'm feeling a bit stumped atm, so if anyone has something in particular that they're interested in seeing from me, please lmk.

obviously i'm trying to only travel down paths that i want to, but as i look at my pinterest boards and all the projects i've started, all the styles and respective universes i'm cobbling together, i'm finding i am very interested in exploring all of them, so my stomach hurts, my head feels funny and my heart is a little confused. i'm feeling lost and as you are all my sunshines my only sunshines, the very same way i appreciate the warmth you provide me, i'd also love a guiding light.

thank you for all your support.

it is extremely precious to me.

-uncle nina

[chiriwritesstuff]

The Girl in IT - 1. The Night Shift

A Boss! Joel Miller x IT Specialist F! Reader AU

Chapter Rating: E (18+, MDNI)

Chapter Preview: "Well, it was a virus, and as I looked into the problem, I had to explore every avenue to ensure I pinpointed the issue, you know, for my report to Tess. I went into your history to see if it might have been a site that caused you to have the virus. I may have casually peeked into a few files to ensure they weren’t corrupted…” you admit, “…and I might have stumbled upon-" your eyebrows raise in embarrassment, "Something personal." “Something personal?” He questions, his brows furrowed in confusion. “I don’t have anything personal… oh, shit.” His eyes widen as the realization dawns on him, hands covering his face as he groans in embarrassment. "Look, about my internet history... and the list-" You slowly nod and bite your lip, mostly to hide your own embarrassment. “… yeah. Um, it was quite... informative about your... sexual preferences.”

Chapter Warnings and Tags: No Outbreak! Joel Miller, Mentions of intended smut towards the reader, Boss x Employee Relationship, Virgin Reader, All of the yearning, Joel Miller is a silly flirt, A small-ish age gap, Joel is too forward for his own good, Tess is a boss (and should not be fucked with - or you get the horns).

Word Count: 5.6K

A/N: Well, hello there!

I honestly have no idea where this idea of a (somewhat crack) fic came from, but I had an idea and I ran with it! A lot of the character development came from my own anxieties of feeling behind in life, and if you feel that way too, I feel you! Don't worry, I promise it won't always feel like this. Time is just that- time, and it's never too late to follow your dreams! I believe in you!

To: IT@millerconstructiongroup.com

Fr: J.Miller@millerconstructiongroup.com

Subject: I think I have a Virus?

12:50 AM (10 min ago)

Hey Sugar,

I know it's late, but my computer fritzed out an hour ago (a shit ton of pop-ups) and I have that presentation with The H Hotel tomorrow morning. Well, do you think you could do me a solid and help me... not have any more of those darn pop-ups? I called the number that popped up asking if I needed assistance with the virus and they asked for my credit card information but they haven't replied back.

Shit, was that a scam? Fuck. I should call Amex.  

Anyway, do you think you can help me get out of this bind, Sugar? I'll be forever and eternally grateful. If you don't, well... I'm sure Tess will rip me a new one, and I would like to not have a Servopoulos-level meltdown at 9 in the morning. Not after last time. Sorry about having to be a part of that, Sugar. At least Maria was able to pay for your dry cleaning and get you a new shirt? You should have let me check your chest for burns, I sure as hell wouldn't want scalding hot coffee being thrown in my direction either. Shit. Not check your chest as in checking out your... breasts, just the burn site. Yeah. That's what I meant. 

(Also, sorry for emailing you last minute. Shit. I'm desperate, baby.)

Thanks,

Joel Miller 

Owner and CEO, Miller Construction Group

(512) 123-4567

To:J.Miller@millerconstructiongroup.com

Fr: IT@millerconstructiongroup.com 

Subject: RE: I think I have a Virus?

1 AM (0 seconds ago)

Good Evening Mr. Miller,

I got your request and will work on it shortly. I can't make any promises, but I will try to get you out of your "bind".  

Don't worry about that thing with Tess. She was rightfully upset, and I just so happened to be caught in the line of fire. If it had to be one of us, I am glad it was me being pelted with boiling hot coffee, and not you in front of your clients. You didn't have to have Maria buy me a blouse from Neiman Marcus, nothing a little tide-to-go can't fix, right? Also, I knew what you meant about my chest, and I didn't think you wanted to look at my... breasts. Let's not refer to any of my body parts moving forward.

Also, I am not completely comfortable with the terms of endearment that you continuously call me, Sir. Please refer to me by my actual name, these emails are monitored by Tess and I would not like to be scalded with hot coffee again for a little misunderstanding.  

Please let me know if you have any other pressing questions or concerns.

Goodnight!

IT Specialist 0926,

IT Department, Miller Construction Group

(512) 765-4321

"Ok Bubbles, let's see what mess Mr. Miller got himself into this time."

Settling by your coffee table, you access your remote portal and insert your portable SSD, initiating various programs to gain entry into your boss's laptop. Securing your hair in a messy top bun with a claw clip, you find yourself biting your bottom lip in concentration. Simultaneously, you switch on your TV, finding solace in the ambient noise that fills your dimly lit apartment—a space shared with Sir Bubbles, your British Shorthair companion since your college days. There's a marathon of Criminal Minds airing on TBS, Spencer Reid's adorable face on screen as he rattles off another theory for why the unsub was an abuse victim by his prostitute mother. You turn the volume down a bit, drowning out his voice.

It's near silent in the little shoebox you call home, the only decent place you were able to afford with your meager savings- after slaving away as a Geek Squad IT Specialist for the majority of your twenties at the Best Buy down the road from your parent's house. Despite graduating with your MIS at the University of Texas - Dallas, finding a decent job in your industry was brutal, and, honestly, quite embarrassing after receiving 30-plus rejection emails in a span of a year. Downtrodden and desperate for a job, you settled on working at Best Buy temporarily, but by the time you hit your mid-30s, it's been eight years working for barely minimum wage, and absolutely nothing to show for it. 

"Do you remember those sweet Miller boys who fixed our roof ten years ago?" your mother asks during a Sunday dinner six months ago, sliding a boat of gravy your way as you absentmindedly drizzle it over your mashed potatoes. "I ran into the older one... Joeseph? James? He owns his own company now with his brother, quite the feat, right? They're working on that hotel down the road... anyway, Josh-"

"Joel," you correct her, nudging the over-steamed carrots around your plate. "I think his name was Joel, Mama."

"Yes, Joel," your mother dismissively waves her hands. "Well, I told him about how you were on the job hunt, you know, with your master's and all. Oh, remember when you used to have that silly little crush on him? He's grown to be quite the looker, you know? Anyway, he told me that they were looking for someone to replace their old IT person—apparently, they retired—"

"Mom," you groan, "get to the point."

"Well," she grins conspiratorially, "he wants you to apply, baby. He remembers you and your little crush, and he said he could never forget someone as cute as you. If you're as good as I claimed you were, well... the job's practically yours!"

Your fork slips from your grasp, the metallic clang against porcelain causing Bubbles to leap in surprise, hissing at you in irritation. "Wait, what?" you blurt out, your eyes wide with a mix of shock and confusion.

Your mother beams at your reaction, seemingly pleased with the bombshell she just dropped. "I told him all about your IT skills and how you practically run the technology world from your bedroom. He seemed really interested, sweetie. And, well, it wouldn't hurt to at least consider it, right?"

You sit there, a swirl of thoughts and emotions whirling in your mind. The unexpected twist of Joel Miller, the older Miller boy you once had a crush on, remembering you and possibly offering you a job—it's surreal. Bubbles, having recovered from the earlier disturbance, casually resumes licking his paw, completely uninterested in the familial drama.

"I... I don't know, Mom," you stammer, trying to process this unexpected turn of events. "I mean, working for the Millers? It's a bit... complicated."

She leans in, her voice lowering to a conspiratorial whisper. "Sweetheart, this could be a fantastic opportunity. And who knows, maybe that little crush of yours could turn into something more... professional, of course." She cuts into her meatloaf, humming in contentment as she chews. "Oh, and Sweetie? Wear the red sweater with your pleated skirt, with something other than those sneakers. You're turning thirty-six in September; you can at least do yourself a favor and start dressing your age for once! I'm sure Joel would appreciate it!" she winks at you as your father grunts in displeasure, rolling his eyes, muttering "meddler" under his breath.

"Mom, it was just a crush from a decade ago. Besides, mixing work and personal feelings is never a good idea."

She chuckles, reaching across the table to pat your hand. "Well, think about it, okay? Joel seemed genuinely interested in having you on the team. It's worth exploring, don't you think?"

A wink, a handshake, and six months later, you find yourself on-call indefinitely, catering to Mr. Miller's every technological whim and folly. It's not a bad job, you reason — getting paid triple what you made at Best Buy, monitoring everyone's browsing history in the office, and fielding the incessant IT requests Mr. Miller sends your way- which was often.  Way too often.

[My laptop won't turn on.]  Did you charge it? Try doing that first.

[Why does the volume not work on my Zoom calls?]  Did you make sure that you're not on mute or that your computer volume is up? Check that first.

[Since when did we put a parental blocker on the internet?]  It was per Tess, who said that employees should be working instead of looking up anti-feminist manifestos on Reddit. I apologize for the inconvenience, Mr. Miller. [Oh, well shit. Do you think you could unblock it for me? I am... having a hard time accessing my... bank account.] I mean- I could, but I would have to run it by Tess first. [Do you think you could... for me? It'll be our little secret, Sugar. Don't worry about Tess, I'll handle her.]  Sure, Mr. Miller... Right. Our little secret.  [Sugar, for the last time, it's Joel. Besides, I thought we were past having a silly little crush on me, you've grown into a... rather nice young woman. Please, call me Joel.]  Uh, sure Mr. Miller.

You are broken from your silent reverie by the unmistakable ding, ding, ding of the pop-ups Joel- Mr. Miller - you correct yourself, mentioned in his email. You scoff, biting into a piece of beef jerky. Typing in a command, the pop-ups halt, the black screen granting you developer access popping up as you run diagnostic after diagnostic trying to catch the little sucker - a virus, as Mr. Miller claimed - in the act of corrupting your poor boss' laptop once again.  There you are, you little shit, you mutter under your breath as you furiously type in more commands, eradicating Mr. Miller's bane of existence for good (or so you hope).

After running what felt like the tenth diagnostic of the night and downing three cups of coffee for the last three hours, the dawn of a new day streaks through the sheer curtains against your window. With bated breath, you restart Joel's system once more, closing your eyes until the familiar chime of Windows 11 booting up reaches your ears.

Please, please, please for fucks sake... no more pop-ups...

Joel's home screen pops up in an instant, the photo of him and his two girls smiling back at you as you breathe in a sigh of relief. "Fuck yes! Finally!" you silently exclaim, a drawn-out yawn and a deep stretch escaping your body as you settle your laptop on your couch. "Okay, let's just run a few programs and check a few documents to make sure they're not corrupted and then I can finally hit the sack..." you squint at the digital clock of your microwave, "and sleep for an hour before I have to get ready for work," you groan, eyeing the jar of Cafe Bustelo in the distance. Yep. No sleep for me, you think bitterly.  Another night, another one of Mr. Miller's computer meltdowns... 

Your eyes scan his desktop, opening up the PowerPoint file he needs for his presentation. It opens up with a slight lag, something you can optimize later but you breathe out another sigh of relief anyway. You check his internet browsing history, his late-night extensive porn viewing not a surprise to you anymore as you snort at the ridiculousness of it all.  At least it's not as bad and kinky as Tommy's browsing history, you tell yourself, because you'll never quite get used to all of the roleplay porn he watches religiously, you think. Closing out of Google Chrome, You scan his desktop for a random Word doc for you to open, not checking its title as you double-click on the first one that you see, slightly hidden by the Recycle Bin icon to the bottom right.  Wants? What kind of a file name is that?

The Word doc pops open, and it seems to be a running list of random things. You blearily scan the line items, your eyes widening in shock as you read on.  

Fuck her against my office door as I cover her mouth to muffle her screams.

Spoil her with a shopping spree at Neiman's with my Amex black card.

Fulfill my breeding fantasy by convincing her to get off of her Birth Control (do you think she's on one?)

Fuck her from behind against Tess' desk (serves her right)

You quickly exit out of the document, pushing your laptop away as if it were cursed. You look at the document title once more.  

Wants.

What the fuck was this? Who is he talking about? you ponder, the guilt of your negligence weighing on you like a weight tied to your ankles as you sink into the depths of the Atlantic. You shut your laptop for good measure, covering it up with your quilt as you shake your head in disbelief.  

What the fuck did I just read?

“Mr. Miller? Do you have a moment?”

You knock on the office door once more for good measure, standing timidly as you try to occupy yourself by smoothing out your dress - sensible, a decent length, work appropriate, you think to yourself. You try to not occupy the idle time of waiting for your boss, Joel Miller, one half of Miller Construction- and the thing you found while remote logging onto his computer last night - I think I have a virus, his email stated - only to stumble upon something rather telling and personal - but he was your boss, and you were a professional, and you weren’t going to think about the list… 

Kiss her in the rain.

Make love in my truck as she rides me. 

Bend her over my desk and take her from behind.

Marathon sex

Eat her out as she works at her desk.

No, Joel was unequivocally your boss—older than you by at least a decade (and maybe a few more years, give or take), and the document titled "Wants" was clearly personal, likely intended for someone else, and certainly not meant to be seen by anyone, especially not an overly curious IT specialist like you. No, you reckon that this list was meant for someone else in the office - someone beautiful, sexy, and confident— someone decidedly who isn't you. Certainly not for someone who dresses like she’s still in college, who only recently began living on her own in a shoebox of an apartment (if you can call it that) after living with her parents for the majority of her adult life, and who barely has her life together. It’s pathetic, being a woman of a certain age and with nothing to show for it, still painfully single, nothing substantial to your name, only getting your life together now while everyone around you has done everything right.  I feel so behind in life, you think to yourself.  Who would want someone so pathetic as me?

It’s not like it’s a crime to have wants, you think to yourself. Everyone has them, including you, you reason. So what if you just so happen to stumble upon your boss's deepest (and somewhat depraved) desires? Doesn’t everyone have a bucket list of their desires written somewhere? So what if your older, attractive boss with his Gen X tendencies has it typed out on his work computer? It’s not like he meant for you to open up the Word doc, right?

You knew he was single. You also knew that he had kids, at least two—Sarah, his eldest, was the head of HR, and Ellie, his adoptive younger daughter, an apprentice working under Tommy, the other half of Miller Construction—a serial flirt who asked you about your dating life in your interview a few months back. No, you didn’t think about your boss and the sheer mass of man that he was, that he smelled like cedar and sandalwood, that he winks when he tells you good morning as you pass him in the parking lot while stumbling out of your less-than-impressive shitty Corolla. You also didn’t take note that he drinks his coffee black with a sprinkle of sugar—the one in the brown packet—or that he eats in his office instead of the employee lounge because he’s a messy eater. The deep red blush trailing down his neck as Tommy scolded him about his lack of table manners during a company-mandated team-building day wasn't proof enough of that.

There wasn’t a ring on that tell-tale finger, not even a tan line, no photographs of another woman on his desk—besides his daughters, of course. Not that you were looking. Tommy had his wife Maria come down to the office often enough; wouldn’t Joel be the same with his own?

Miller Construction prided itself on being a family-run company, with Joel and Tommy at the helm and their best friend Tess as VP—more the boss than the actual Miller brothers. While Joel and Tommy preferred the hands-on work on-site, Tess ruled over the office with an iron fist. No one dared to cross her.

"You've got one job, and one job only," she declared during your office tour. "Make sure no one spends the majority of their shift watching porn, and keep Joel from messing up his computer with his boomer-isms. We can't afford to keep replacing a laptop every six months."

"Isn't he in Gen X?" you ask. "... at 56 years old, he's still considered to be in that generation, right?"

"Technically, yes," Tess replies with an exasperated sigh. "But you know what I mean. Sometimes it feels like Joel is stuck in a time warp with his 'boomer-isms.' Just keep things running smoothly here, alright?"

As the days pass, you notice an unusual trend in Joel's computer issues. It seems that every time his laptop malfunctions, it coincides with a spike in suspicious internet activity. It doesn't take a genius to connect the dots, and you can't help but shake your head at the irony of it all.

After a particularly eventful morning filled with more than the usual technical hiccups, you decide it's time to address the elephant in the room. You knock on Joel's office door, half-expecting him to be engrossed in some spreadsheet or construction plans.

It's not like you have to tell him about your snooping - he would be none the wiser judging by the way he was so technologically inept - you weren't about to tell him that the reason for the virus on the computer was because he was looking at some rather specific porn - boss fucks unsuspecting secretary from behind- his internet history had listed, nor did he probably think that his computer is being monitored, including his internet browsing history- company policy, as stated on the employee handbook that every employee of Miller Construction signs on the day of their official hiring- nor does he think that it sends reports to her at the end of the day.

You don't think about how the sudden uptick of his secretary porn viewing increased since a week after your hiring.  It's just a coincidence, right?

“Mr. Miller?” You call out once more. “It’s about your IT request last night? I have an update?”

“Yeah? Sorry! Come on in!” you hear from behind the door, accompanied by the frantic shuffle of papers and a silent curse. You take a deep breath as your hand turns the doorknob. Silently, you shut the door behind you, offering a small smile as you smooth out the skirt of your dress once more.

You fidget in place in front of the door as Joel—Mr. Miller—in his green flannel and dark jeans slung just right—it really should be criminal, looking this ruggedly handsome for someone his age, you think—as he ungraciously flops onto his desk chair, motioning for you to take the seat in front of him as he clears his throat nervously. “Take a seat.”

You situate yourself in front of him, refusing to meet his eyes as you fiddle with your hands on your lap, wondering why he, out of all people, would be nervous. It's not like he stumbled upon something so... intimate. You are a professional, and you were only doing your job, you tell yourself like a mantra, trying to ground yourself. What's the worst that could happen? It's not like he would fire you over your accidental snooping, right? You nod to yourself. “So…”

“So…” he replies, Adam’s apple bobbing as he takes a drink of his coffee. “Thank you for taking a look at my computer last night.” He begins, smiling at you. “I know that it was late, and I’m willing to compensate your time by giving you time and a half…”

“Oh,” you nervously reply, shifting in your seat. “No, Mr. Miller—”

“Joel.”

“What?”

He shakes his head. “Please. We’re all family here. Call me Joel. Mr. Miller is my father for fuck's sake—”

“Right,” you chuckle. “Sure. Joel. Listen, you don’t need to compensate me for last night, let alone give me the overtime rate—”

“I emailed you at midnight; surely you were already busy, or I probably irritated your husband—”

“No.”

“No?” 

“No,” you mumble solemnly, “there’s no husband, just me and my cat-“

He barks at that, the laugh so loud it makes you jump in your seat. He gives you a look, almost as if he was relieved with that bit of information. “Well, disturbing your cat, then-“

"Oh," you reply casually, waving your hands in dismissal. "I'm sure Sir Bubbles didn't mind... and I don't sleep much, really—"

"Oh?" He straightens himself, his face serious. "Is it because of all of my requests? Shit. My girls give me such a hard time about not being with the times, I'm not really interested in technology— So no husband? Boyfriend, then?"

"Uh, no," you reply quickly, not eager to delve into the details of your lackluster love life. You clear your throat, adopting a professional demeanor. "Joel, as you're aware—or maybe not," you chuckle nervously, "I receive reports of all employee internet histories at the end of the day. Being the sole IT specialist on your payroll—perks of the job, outlined in my duties—I keep an eye out for any... irregularities."

"Irregularities?" he replies, his demeanor shifting into something resembling guilt. "What are you trying to get at?" he presses.

"Well, I monitor employee computer usage to make sure that they're not... distracted from their work," you reply. "Tess was explicit about not having any employees using company time for any unnecessary personal... dalliances."

Joel gives you a hard look. "Dalliances?"

"Yes, dalliances. Tess told me it was an issue before, with employees browsing social media and visiting questionable Reddit threads?"

"I don't follow," Joel replies. "You gotta spell it out for me, Sugar. What does that have to do with my request last night? I had a late night at the office, and after... checking my emails," he gulps, "I suddenly get bombarded with these pop-up things, so much that I just... unplugged my laptop... and, well-"

How is he so oblivious about this? You bite your cheek in frustration, not knowing how to get to the point without having to spell it out for him that you caught him browsing porn last night, secretary porn at that, and although it's highly inappropriate, you hardly think he was watching it because of Gladys, his actual secretary, who is old enough to be his mother.  Not unless he has some weird mommy kink...

Unable to endure the suspense any longer, you decide to rip the bandaid off as soon as possible. “I’m sorry!” You exclaim, “I didn't mean to look at your browsing history, I mean, I had to, but only because I had to find the reason why a virus got on your computer, but that is not the point! I had to open a file to make sure it wasn't corrupted, and I swear, I didn't mean to open it!"

“Open what, sweetheart?” he smiles at you, leaning forward towards you.  

"Well, it was a virus, and as I looked into the problem, I had to explore every avenue to ensure I pinpointed the issue, you know, for my report to Tess. I went into your history to see if it might have been a site that caused you to have the virus. I may have casually peeked into a few files to ensure they weren’t corrupted…” you admit, “…and I might have stumbled upon-" your eyebrows raise in embarrassment, "Something personal."

“Something personal?” He questions, his brows furrowed in confusion. “I don’t have anything personal… oh, shit.” His eyes widen as the realization dawns on him, hands covering his face as he groans in embarrassment. "Look, about my internet history... and the list-"

You slowly nod and bite your lip, mostly to hide your own embarrassment. “… yeah. Um, it was quite... informative about your... sexual preferences.”

Joel visibly pales at your confession. He adjusts his collar, unbuttoning the second button as if he were being strangled by your scrutiny. “I just want to let you know", he starts, looking you in the eye with an unreadable expression. "I respect you as a woman, and Tommy, fuck, he wouldn’t let it go, with all that teasing about you being exactly my type and all, and well, your mother did remind me about your little crush on me back then-“ he rubs his hands through his hair as he rambles on, “… and I know that this looks bad, with you being my employee and all-“

“Wait, what?” You cut him off, a confused look on your face. “What do you mean? I mean, they're your personal preferences, and the list, well, I'm sure whoever you're writing about must be some woman, not that it's any of my business-”

“Fuck. You didn’t read all of it?”

“No!” You exclaim, practically jumping out of your seat. “I quickly closed it once I realized the nature of the document…”

“Well.” He stands up suddenly, pacing behind his desk. “I wrote that drunkenly one night after the company dinner, you know, the one when you wore that dress… do you remember?”

“Yes,” you reply breathily, “… the night where-“

You vividly recall that night. It was a dinner at the recently completed new hotel project. After a few glasses of wine and an impulsive, rather expensive purchase at Nordstrom.com a week prior, you endured most of the evening in an uncomfortably tight and overly revealing dress—a poor choice for a company party, for fucks sake. You believed Joel approached you at the end of the night out of sheer pity, not because—

“Well… after seeing you in that dress, and how stunning you looked in it, sitting by yourself, biting your lip in a way that makes me-“ he stops himself, giving you a small smile. “I was drunk, and I was thinking… I was contemplating how, if I were to have you, if you, by some miracle of fate… were interested, that I would do things right, you know? That if I had a second chance at… I would do it right. Treat you right.”

“You do know I’m not a secretary, let alone your secretary,” you roll your eyes. “I’m in IT… the only person in IT actually, and you’re not the first person I caught looking at questionable porn…”

Joel bristles at that. “Shit. Let me guess… Tommy?”

That gets a small smile out of you. “I can neither confirm nor deny, but… he’s partial towards a certain porn actress, and let’s just say he is really in love with women who looks like his wife.”

He smiles. "Shit, I thought I was being obvious enough, being that Tommy has teased me about it enough... I thought you knew. I know you work with computers, Sugar. I’m not completely senile, and I know Tess has been on a warpath about people getting their rocks off at work, I figured you would look at all of my… perusing.”

You're left stunned, your mind racing to process what Joel just revealed. It's not the revelation about his desires that leaves you speechless, but the unexpected admission of his feelings toward you. Your mind flashes back to the list, the desires that seemed so out of reach for someone like you. You never thought Joel would be harboring any feelings for you, let alone express them so openly.

"I... I had no idea," you stammer, still grappling with the revelation. "I thought that list was for someone else, someone... not me."

Joel walks around the desk, his eyes never leaving yours. "You thought wrong, sweetheart. I've been trying to drop hints, but I guess I've been subtler than I thought."

A myriad of emotions wash over you — confusion, surprise, and a hint of something you can't quite place. The professional boundary between boss and employee seems to blur, and you find yourself in uncharted territory.

"But," he continues, "I get it. I'm your boss, and this is complicated. I didn't want to put you in an awkward position. I should've been more direct."

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. "Joel, it's not about being direct or indirect. This is just... unexpected. I never thought someone like you would... feel that way about someone like me."

He reaches out, gently lifting your chin so you meet his gaze. "Someone like me? What does that even mean, darlin'? You're intelligent and beautiful, and I've seen the way you handle your work. I've noticed you, and I can't help how I feel."

A mixture of vulnerability and sincerity in his eyes makes it hard to doubt his words. You start to consider the possibility that maybe, just maybe, your insecurities have clouded your perception.

"I don't want to pressure you, and I understand if you're not comfortable with this. I just needed you to know. The last thing I want is for things to be awkward at work," he says, his thumb gently caressing your cheek.

You take a moment to absorb everything. Joel's revelation, your preconceptions, and the unexpected turn of events. The office, once a familiar space, now feels like uncharted territory.

"I need time to process this," you finally say. "It's a lot to take in, Joel. I never expected... any of this."

He nods understandingly, his hand dropping to his side. "Take all the time you need. I'll respect whatever decision you make. And hey, if you're not interested, we can go back to being boss and employee, like nothing happened."

You manage a small smile, appreciating his attempt to lighten the mood. "I'll... let you know. Just give me some time, okay?"

"Of course," he says, moving back toward his desk. "And, for what it's worth, I meant every word on that list. Whether it's a rain kiss or making love in my truck, I want it all with you."

You nod, silently acknowledging his sincerity. As you leave his office, you can't help but wonder how a routine IT request led to such a revelation. The office dynamics have shifted, and you find yourself navigating uncharted waters, unsure of where this unexpected revelation will lead.

As you walk away from Joel's office, a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts consumes your mind. The revelation about Joel's feelings for you is a shock, but it's not the only thing echoing in your head. The list of desires he had penned down only magnifies your own insecurities. The voice in your mind grows louder, whispering that you're not the woman he deserves—too much of a mess, too behind in life, and certainly not beautiful enough for someone like him. The echoes of your perceived inadequacies replay like a broken record, drowning out the possibility that someone could genuinely see something valuable in you. You glance at your reflection in the office window, critiquing every imperfection, every perceived flaw. The dress that seemed sensible before now feels like a sad attempt to disguise what you believe is a lack of style or grace. The weight of self-doubt becomes an invisible burden, and you can't shake the feeling that you're not enough, that you may never be enough for someone like Joel.

As you grapple with your internal struggles, a small spark of defiance begins to flicker within you. Perhaps it's time to challenge those self-limiting beliefs, to be bolder than your insecurities allow. Joel's admission has opened a door you never expected, and you find yourself at a crossroads. Despite the echoes of doubt, a newfound courage whispers that maybe, just maybe, you can be more than what you perceive.

Embracing this sudden surge of determination, you make a decision. Instead of letting fear dictate your actions, you choose to confront the uncertainties head-on. Swallowing the apprehension that threatens to hold you back, you turn on your heel and head back to Joel's office. The faint thud of your own heartbeat echoes in your ears as you push open the door.

"Joel," you say, your voice steadier than you anticipated. "I've been thinking about what you said, and I need you to clarify something for me."

He looks up from his desk, curiosity etched across his features. "Sure, what's on your mind?"

You take a deep breath, suppressing the self-doubt that still lingers. "Is that list something you genuinely desire with me, or was it just a drunken fantasy?"

Joel's eyes lock onto yours, a mix of surprise and sincerity in his gaze. "Every word of it is something I want with you. Why?"

A daring smile plays on your lips as you respond, "Then let's not leave it as a list, Joel. Let's see how many of those desires we can turn into reality."

The room seems to hold its breath for a moment as Joel's expression shifts from surprise to a slow, understanding smile. The air thickens with anticipation, leaving the next steps uncertain but filled with the promise of something new and exhilarating. As you stand on the precipice of this unexpected journey, the uncharted waters of possibilities lie ahead, and you find yourself ready to take the plunge.

Taglist: @gwendibleywrites, @joeldjarin, @brittmb115

For more updates on all of my fics, please follow @chiriwritesstuffnotifs

All dividers by @saradika-graphics

[cursedcatchild]

Ok, so I watched TOTTMNT and I am here to rant. Also, SPOILERS ahead!

So First of all, if I had to sum up my thoughts into a single sentence it would be: For the love of God, put those turtles back together, where they belong!!

I didn’t hate the show, but I didn’t come to like it either. And no, I did not have any prejudgment just because it was a new iteration. Honestly I was super hyped for this version, because the movie was a blast. Yea, I ended up being disappointed. But let me just elaborate on that:

First let’s take a look at our turtles from worst to best in my opinion.

Mikey:

Yepp, ladies and gentlemen so far I have never seen a single iteration where I didn’t come to like a Mikey. He’s always among my favs. But this version felt super shallow. He had just as much screen time in the series as his brothers and yet I still have no idea who this guy really is. His jokes were lame not really landing, I couldn’t really point out any particular goal or insecurity that anyone could relate to. Also, the guy is super oblivious. Like he took ten minutes to realize he walked into a robbery when he went for groceries. Heck he was having a casual conversation with the robbers. 

Leo: 

Another kinda shallow guy. Sure we seen a bit of insecurity, he literally quoted Rise Leo saying “ I’m nothing without them!” but it felt irreal. Because Rise Leo had a reason to think that, he wasn’t as much of a functional member of the team and he was always taken for jokes. But right from the beginning of TOTTMNT we see Tales Leo commanding his brothers, they listen to him  and even say it multiple times how planning is Leo’s thing. So at this point this Leo is just fucking blind. ( Also April slaps instant self confidence into the boy.) 

Raph:

Ok, this is also the first time, but I never really took a liking to a Raph before Tales Raph. Boy is filled with anger and sass, yet he’s not coming off as a total jerk like 2012 Raph. And of course he's not a super softie like Rise Raph ( I don’t hate Rise Raph for being a softie, he's my second favorite Raph) either. He had some fun pipe up and overall a personality I got. I think he’s the most perfect Raph I have ever seen. 

Donnie:

The best character of the iteration in my humble opinion. He was relatable, funny, honestly he was stealing Mikey’s job as the comic relief, but at the same time he’s the smart guy. The boy is ranting about not being the IT guy and then goes reprogramming an evil robot. Oh and he saved so many lifes, because he stopped a fucking train crash. He’s epic, I swear.

(My fave screenshot ever 🤣🤣)

Now story wise:

🔥What the fuck was this dumpster fire?! 🔥Who thought splitting up the turtles would be fine?! 😑Especially in a 12 episode season? Look, I don't mind solo or duo time. There were plenty of good ones, for example Rise. I adored the Mikey vs Leo cook off episode or the Gumbus one, but for the sake of my sanity Rise had twice as many episodes and the turtles were not split up for the majority of the story.

Like I'm not joking when I say they were together in 4 episodes intotal.😨😨

Now I heard rumors left and right that the fact that they need to make a show was thrown at the team at the last minute ( IDK how true is that) , but goodness gracious even if I was presented with the task with a “ Due tomorrow label” I could still write a better story. Especially with the goldmine what the writers decided to ignore.

Yes, something that would've made TOTTMNT be really unique….. School people! We were promised that we will explore the turtles from the teenage side. Ummm….Hate to break it to ya all but I think there is no better way to do that than putting them into school.

It would’ve been fire to see them trying to fit in, balancing all the cool hero stuff with school life, maybe wrecking the school, seeing how other teenangers adjust to the fact that now giant talking turtles are their classmates. It wouldn’t be some crazy mind blowing plot, but I swear it would've been amazing.

Now don’t misunderstand me. Despite the story feeling like being all over the place it wasn’t that super bad, but I’m pissed that it could've been better with ease.

Also another thing that bugged me, is the feeling of something missing. IDK if anyone else who watched it felt like this, but I legit felt like if we just grabbed the for example farm arc from 2012 TMNT and aired it as season 1. The fact that the turtles were split and they kept mentioning that they have always been fighting together made me feel like I should’ve seen them do that.

Anyways, If I did not take your will to watch it away, go and check it out. It's not horrible but not great either. I’m disappointed and I'm gonna need Rise back, thank you very much!

[theblue6ook]

"Other Lovers" PT 3

Summary: Y/N is realizing the end of her relationship with Russ is near. Bruce is realizing he might like Y/N more than he leads on.

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x fem!reader

a/n: Hello lovelies. There will be a part four to this. There will be some flirting happening here with Bruce and Y/N so stay tuned.  [B (23) Y/N (22)] [Eventual slow burn with Bruce] [Y/N/N is your nickname] Apart of my Out of My League series btw.

Bruce did not regard himself as a touchy, feely person. In fact, many people called him detached. Even as Bachelor Bruce, he wasn’t a big toucher, but he could not keep his hands off of Y/N. He knew Rachel noticed. He knew his staff noticed. He knew he shouldn’t, but he was just so comfortable with her.

It honestly had happened out of nowhere. She hadn’t even been his assistant long, maybe a few months? But they spent almost every single day together; it was hard not to get comfortable. Everything in him, especially The Bat, was telling him to knock it off, but he couldn’t. His hands traced her shoulder, walking her into the green room. He was excited to show her the present that awaited them. Her shoulder tensed with surprise when she noticed the large cake towards the center of the room. His hand slid down the curve of her spine toward her waist. Fingertips playing with her silk dress. 

Y/N couldn’t help but feel guilty, her heart speeding up as she felt his fingertips press into the flesh at her waist. She giggled, slightly overwhelmed. She wasn’t sure whether to focus on the singing, the cake illuminating the center of the room, or Bruce’s body heat against her back. 

He had leaned down to whisper in her ear, “I hope this makes up for earlier. Happy Birthday.” 

His lips almost grazed the shell of her ear. Firmly, she held onto his arm against her waist to steady her. Clapping erupted, interrupting her fogged mind and bringing her back to the cruel reality. I am engaged. I am engaged, and I don’t want to be. Despite her initial attitude with Bruce Wayne, he was him. She was glad he wasn't necessarily the bachelor everyone made him out to be. He was smart and funny and so stubborn. He was gorgeous. That's one thing the papers didn't lie about; they almost didn't even do him justice. She could feel every hard curve of his skin against her back.

She turned to smile at him, speaking over the clapping, “What is this cake?!” 

“It’s huge!” Carrie interjected, taking her hand off Bruce’s arm to clap as well. 

"You didn't think I'd get you a cake on your birthday?" he grinned teasingly. "Are you surprised?"

“I’m surprised,” she hugged him tightly, and he returned it just as tight. 

The birthday activities had resumed in various ways. Bruce had to sneak off and entertain his vast amount of guests. Carrie and Y/N feasted on birthday cake, then dinner, then cake again. It was a magical affair. She felt pleasantly drunk off cocktails, and Carrie giggled at Y/N’s lightheadedness. They decided to do a lap around the restaurant; it was like nothing they had ever seen before. Each room had a different color scheme; every table was set to the high heavens. It was like what she had imagined while reading The Great Gatsby. Once they had explored enough, they came back to the green room only to notice a crowd was gathering.

Bruce had to work fast. As stupid as this seemed, he desperately needed a distraction. One of Bane’s followers was here. Bruce caught him parading around as a waiter when he took him out, discretely, of course. They had been looking for their target, the CEO of Ace Chemicals, and though he had handled the waiter, there was no telling if there was another one of Bane’s goons in the area. So, Bruce needed a distraction while his staff politely escorted the CEO out, and he needed one fast. He needed a crowd. He needed people.

Y/N turned to her left, and there he was, in the view past her vast birthday cake, swimming in the tiger fountain with the half-naked ballerinas. It was his restaurant. What could the staff do but watch? She was his assistant. What could the staff do but watch? 

Feeling almost embarrassed, there was a tightness in her chest. Y/N glanced to her left to look away from the scene, and she noticed Rachel in a similar position. There she was, looking over at him, disappointed and discouraged. It’s like they were at two opposite ends of the same spectrum. The old lover. The new crush.

The cruel reality came back to her once more. He is him. He is Bruce Wayne, and I am his assistant. He is Gotham’s finest bachelor, and I’m engaged. 

“We should go,” she mumbled to Carrie. 

After messaging Alfred, he was there in no time, and they had plopped into the back of the Rolls Royce silently. Alfred could tell the night had not gone exactly as planned, but he opted to ask Y/N about it later. Y/N’s mind wandered as she stared out towards the passing buildings until she noticed they were coming up on East Merchant Street. That’s the street near the bar Russ works at.

“You can pull over here,” she suddenly stated. 

Carrie grabbed Y/N’s arm and turned to her, looking concerned, “Where do you think you’re going?”

Y/N ignored the question, “Alfred, will you take Carrie home?”

“Y/N,” she said firmly. “Where do you think you’re going?”

Finally, sighing, Y/N turned to Carrie, “I need to have a conversation with my fiance.” She raised her eyebrow and gave Carrie a look that said this is serious. Hesitantly, Carrie let go of Y/N’s arm, but before she could get out of the car, Carrie snatched her once again.

“You call Alfred the minute you need to come home,” her gaze was serious. “I’m waiting up for you, and I’m not kidding. The minute you need to come back.”

Y/N heard Alfred repeat a similar phrase, and she looked toward Carrie, nodding. She gave her a quick hug before stepping back from the vehicle and watching them drive off, taillights reflecting in the puddles on the street. Inhaling, she started her trek down the sidewalk.

Y/N was at a crossroads. She knew she should have expected some wildly Bruce Wayne scene tonight, but she was disappointed. For a moment, she got to pretend like all of her problems had drifted. Like her engagement wasn’t falling apart. Like she was just a single twenty-two-year-old woman with her best friend out in society, flirting with the idea of men. When Bruce jumped into that fountain, it reminded her that the man she had thought about so much tonight was her boss. He was the most notorious bachelor in Gotham. Her fiance was drifting away. She was drifting away, and after all the shitty things Russ had done, she still cared for him. So, tonight, she was giving them one more chance. To talk, to laugh, to make love. She just needed one night to see if there was still something there for them.

She walked down the steps into Pipers. It was a sleazier bar, like an off-brand Hooters, with more alcohol. The men down here were different in a weird way, always looking at the waitress' assets. Originally, she had protested Russ working here, but he said the people like to drink a lot, and more drinks means more money. She heard a low whistle coming from behind the bar. Y/N turned, expecting it to be Russ, but instead, it was just Tony, the GM.

“What are you up to, honey?” Tony smiled softly at her. Tony was notorious for being an asshole, but he had always had a soft spot for Y/N ever since she spent her last summer tutoring his daughter.

“Hey Tony, I’m actually looking for Russ.”

He raised his eyebrow, “Russ? He told me he was taking a half-day.”

All the blood drained from her face. Was he hiding something?

“Did he?” she said breathlessly.

He inhaled and rose from his seat at the back of the bar, almost knocking his beer belly against the counter. He wiggled his finger for her to come closer as he leaned over the bartop like he had to tell her something in secret. “One of our servers here said she was going to drive him to meet you.”

“Do you think he’s at my apartment?” she questioned. After rubbing his gelled hair, he threw his arms out in a questioning manner, but he didn’t look as hopeful as she was. She whispered once more, “I mean, it’s Russ, right? It’s not like it could… be anything.”

Nodding, he cleared his throat, “Why don’t you uh check in with our server first? See where she drove him.” He pulled out a thick binder from the back of the counter and started flipping the pages. “I’m not allowed to share personal information about my employees, but I’m just gonna leave this right here and go do a lap around the bar.”

Winking at her, he moved away from the bartop and started doing his rounds. Y/N pulled the large binder over to her, looking at the page he had turned to. Her mouth dropped. Mary Fucking Anne. Y/N had met her years ago, and she had been nice enough. She was the type of woman who couldn’t be alone. Not because she didn’t know how but because the men at the bar kept her so busy. Y/N had praised her before for being so adventurous, but she didn’t realize she’d be adventurous with engaged men.

Snapping a picture of the book and scanning for an address, she quickly slid the binder back behind the counter and stepped out of the bar. 

Walking down the cold street in her thin red dress, she thought to herself it’s not like that. It can’t be like that. We’ve been engaged since we were eighteen. It’s been years. It’s not like that. In her head, she was hoping she knew the way it would play out. She’d get to Mary Anne’s and ask her where Russ was. Mary Anne would turn to her and say oh, I dropped him at your apartment because Russ has terrible common sense and probably didn’t realize The Ocelot takes more time than Chuck’s Chili. Then, she’d get home and Russ would be there, and they’d laugh about it. Yes, that has to be what happens. It can’t not be what happens because if she gets to Mary Anne’s and that’s not what happens, that is more than four years of her life wasted. That is not only her fiance but one of her best friends betraying her. Someone who was with her through everything and would amount to nothing. 

Looking at the address on her phone and back up at the building, here it was, Mary Anne's. It was a small dingy building about two blocks away from Pipers. Y/N looked up the steps toward the common door. It wasn’t likely the common door would be open, but she decided to try it anyway. Stepping up the stairs, she pulled, and there was nothing. Pulling again, it was like some divine intervention. The building lights flickered, and the magnetic lock holding the door closed let go. Y/N was too worried about the task at hand to even question it. Taking steps two at a time, she almost tripped on her red grown, but here she was. Apartment 24.

The noise already betrayed them. Trying the door, it happened to be unlocked. They had clearly been in a rush to get inside. Unapologetic, she threw the door open, and there they were against the countertop, a mesh of limbs and lipstick. But after taking in the state of the apartment, that wasn't even the worst part. His things were here.

Mary Anne squealed, trying to cover herself with a dishtowel, and Russ tried squeezing back into his pants, abandoning Mary Anne to rush over to Y/N, apologizing. “What are you doing here, baby? It’s - I’m sorry-”

The way she looked at him had him stopping in his tracks. Not another word came out of his mouth. Mary Anne still shrunk in the corner, trying to cover herself, shivering with shame. She slowly started to wander around the apartment. “You told me you didn’t want me over until your landlord renovated your apartment.” 

“Baby, I just-”

“-You’re moving in with her,” she said disgusted, turning to him. She grabbed at the records on the wall. She had gotten him each one for his birthday. With clenched teeth, she said, “These are our things, Russ.”

“They’re still our things,” he tried to reason, tears in his eyes, realizing his actions were finally catching up to him. 

Mary Anne had since forgotten her towel and modesty, pushing at Russ’s shoulder angrily, “They’re our things. You’re living with me-”

The sound of cracking had her silent. Crushed records lay at the bottom of Y/N’s red dress. Russ had looked like he’d been shot. 

“Four years,” Y/N mumbled, dropping the last record and crushing it into her heel. She stepped around the room once again. No one wanted to say a thing; it was like waiting for a bomb to go off. On the coffee table was the vase she made him in pottery class in high school. It was her first gift to him, and now it was holding the flowers he brought home to another woman. She picked it up, dumping the flowers and water onto the uneven wooden floor. She held the vase by the tip of her pointer finger.

“Y/N,” he started bawling, “I don’t have an excuse for it, but I love you. Please-” Mary Anne gasped at his statement, running toward her bedroom sobbing, leaving the pair alone. “I can’t live without you. Even if we’re not together, you’re one of my best friends-”

The vase landed with a shatter, and she started to walk towards the door. He dropped to his knees and wailed, “You’re just going to throw everything we have away!”

Turning to him, red with anger, she noticed the guitar mounted to the wall. It was something she had gotten him with her first Wayne Enterprises paycheck. With a scream and a cry, she swept the guitar off the wall and smashed it next to him. After taking a breath and looking at her surroundings, she finally stormed out of the apartment. Wet, hot tears finally smeared down her face as she approached the exit and screamed into the open air. Russ was not far behind. His sadness turned to anger, and he quickly gripped the front of her arms despite her protests.

“You think you can just throw me away!?”

“We’re done, Russ!” she struggled in his grip but continued. “I’m disgusted by you. I wish I never met you!” He raised his hand to her, but there was a sudden crack against Russ’s hand, and blood started to drip down his arm. There, lying on the concrete, was a sharp piece of metal in the outline of a bat. Thunder rolled, and there was a flash of lightning. Russ looked up, turning white like he'd seen a ghost, but by the time Y/N had turned around, there was nothing.

Now alone, she stared down at the little metal bat, and then her focus changed to the cracked engagement ring on her left ring finger. Slowly sliding it off her finger, she let it fall out of her palm and toward the gutter. Somehow, she felt lighter without it. She wasn't sure what came over her next, but she decided to pick up the little metal bat and pocket it into her clutch. 

Lurking in the shadows, Bruce watched Russ rush inside. He watched Y/N slide her engagement ring off, letting the Gotham sewer take it. He watched Y/N's red silk dress pool around her as she leaned down, picking up the piece of metal and dropping it into her bag.

Bruce had said it before that he missed Rachel. He missed their late-night conversations. He missed having someone down to Earth. He missed having a friend, and the fact that Rachel was his friend made him love her, but he hadn’t realized until tonight how much Y/N filled that void for him. They may not have late-night conversations. She may not know about his double life, but they had their afternoon talks over lunch. She brings flowers into the office, just because. She bantered with him. She wasn’t intimidated by him, and he would be damned if he let a man raise his hand to her. 

@pank0w @moejoeflow @padsfirewhisky @maxinehufflepuffprincess

[galaxy-fleur]

Replaying RE4R, and I am once again thinking of how Leon just straight up murders a guy the moment he attacks. Like yeah, sure, he lunged at him with a weapon, there is a bloody badge of an officer, things are sketchy to say the least, but still. It all happens so fast, I doubt he actually had the time to fully put two and two together quite yet.

And you can't tell me that Leon, a trained agent, just overestimated the power of his kick on accident. That ↓

Was a pretty much deliberate kick. What's interesting is that in the OG RE4, he at least tells the ganado to freeze a good couple of times (or maybe once, I don't remember the specifics, but my point still stands) before actually proceeding to harm him. Remake Leon, meanwhile... just breaks his neck without a second thought.

And his reaction right after makes it... pretty obvious, honestly.

There is no strong reaction there to offing an old man in his home. Now, granted, he hears a scream right after, so it's not like he has much time to stand and ponder over what happened! But the only thing he says right after is: 'This is not good.' And, yeah, true, but we do know Leon is capable of expressing some level of distress over something he finds disturbing, and he proceeds to do that literally a few minutes later once you start exploring the village. So really, it's an interesting scene and a very intriguing way of introducing this hardened version of Leon we'll be playing as.

I wouldn't be thinking about this as much if not for the circumstances surrounding it. Not like Leon is aware that this man is infected with anything. Up until the moment he gets back up, he could be just some disturbed, paranoid old man or something. And he did just walk into someone's house. He's an intruder here, really. But the moment danger presents itself, he eliminates the threat without a second thought.

I think it speaks volumes of the past 6 years that passed for him, and how they shaped him. We don't know much of Leon's job: what it entails exactly, what kind of work he does on the daily, how the entire structure operates. And before the events of RE4, it's not like he was a well-known agent, if I remember correctly. It's his successful rescue of Ashley that got him high in the ranks. His status as a Racoon City survivor didn't do that. Throughout RE4R, we see him regain his humanity through the connections with other characters, going from the cold, robotic way he caries himself at the start of the game, to the determined, emotionally-invested man we later see carrying Ashley to Luis' laboratory.

It's very neat to think about! And while we all love Leon for his kind heart and his drive to save innocent lives, he is more than capable of violence, and that's an aspect of him I wish was talked about more. That neck break was definitely not the first one for him, just saying.

[bitethedevil]

Feel free to just ignore this if the prompt is too horny but uh...

Mephistopheles having some fiends deliver a present to the boudoir for Raphael. That present is a very confused, but also very naked, Tav who is all tied up with silk and has a collar and chain on her neck. Evidently devil-daddy-dearest caught wind of the fact that his son is secretly infatuated with the adventurer (Haarlep told him).

For her part, Tav isn't opposed to being in this... ah... position, but she definitely would have preferred Raphael be the one to have brought her here via invitation rather than... whatever this is.

A Gift (NSFW)

(This isn't super edited or anything. Bear with me)

Tav was finally returning to the land of the living after having been knocked out. Her head was foggy and when she opened her eyes, she couldn’t see. She could feel that she had a silk blindfold on, and another silk ribbon was in her mouth, gagging her.

She tried to move around. She quickly noticed that she was completely naked. Her hands and legs were bound together too, and they were tied tight. Her hands had begun to fall asleep. What the fuck was going on?

She heard quick and heavy footsteps, and her blood ran cold. She heard that the footsteps came to an abrupt halt a few steps away from her.

She tried to speak through the gag, but it only came out as muffled sounds

“Heuuo?” she said.

The footsteps slowly approached her, and she felt the tip of a very warm finger tickle the skin of her naked belly, as the person snatched a piece of paper that was laying over it.

“Heuuuuuo??”

“Patience, mouse,” she heard a very familiar voice say. “Let me read.”

“WAPHAEF??” she asked in shock.

“Indeed…” he answered calmly to her gibberish. “I can assure you that I had nothing to do with your current predicament.”

“Whaeffuumeaouavenothowifthis???” she mumbled outraged. “whyamaNAGED??!”

She heard him sigh and she felt a clawed finger slip under the silk covering her mouth and pulling it down.

“Try again,” he said.

She sputtered. Her tongue felt dry from the fabric that had been covering her mouth for gods know how long.

“What the fuck is going on?”

“It appears that you were kidnapped and brought here,” he answered. “Though not by me or any of mine.”

He lifted up her blindfold. She blinked at the sudden light as her eyes adjusted. She was in a bedroom. Raphael’s bedroom. Naked. On his bed. She squinted at him. He was in his devil form. She looked to the paper in his hands.

“What does that say?” she asked.

“Nothing that concerns you,” he said.

He sat down beside her. He was at least nice enough to cover some of her with the blanket on the bed.

“Can you at least tell me something? Who kidnapped me? Why am I in your bed naked?”

He sighed and unfolded the paper that she had come with. He held it up to her face for her to read. She squinted at it.

“That Mephistopheles?!” she asked. “Why does he think you want me?”

“It’s a lazy attempt at distracting me,” Raphael explained. “I am not sure why. No gifts are free in the Hells.”

She noticed that he was occasionally glancing over her body, though he was trying to be a gentleman and look her in the eyes. She felt very naked.

“Are you in love with me or something?” she teased.

Raphael gave her a look that told her she was absolute ridiculous for asking that question.

Her eyes went to the growing bulge in his pants and then looked at him with a shit-eating grin, as to say that his body was telling a different story.

“Insolent whelp,” he huffed and pulled down her blindfold over her eyes again. “I will send you on your merry way back to Faerûn.”

He was about to do the same with the gag, but she stopped him. There could be an opportunity here. She had always had a bit of a thing for the devil and this might be her only chance to explore that little fantasy.

“Waitwaitwait,” she said.

Raphael paused his movements.

“I didn’t say I minded it,” she said. “And I mean, I’m already here... It would honestly be a bit of a wasted journey if you just sent me back, wouldn’t it?”

“Oh?” he said and chuckled. “And what do you suggest we do with you instead?”

“Uuuh w-well,” she stammered. “You could free me first maybe?”

“Not a chance,” he said and slowly pulled the blanket that was covering her off her. “I rather like seeing you like this.”

He did not remove the blindfold again, so she couldn’t see what he was doing. She suddenly felt a claw run up her thigh and it made her shiver. It continued its journey over her hip and over her stomach until it went over the underside of one of her breasts and it finally reached her nipple. He made slow circles around it with his thumb, and she felt the bed dip beside her shoulder.

“I will give you one last chance to say if you want to go home instead,” he purred in her ear.

She promptly shook her head.

“Good,” he whispered in her ear.

A moment later she felt his arms under her and in one swift movement she was on her stomach with her bound wrists above her. After, she felt the absence of him in the bed. She listened and she gathered that he must be taking off his clothes. She heard the sounds of fabric ruffling and hitting the floor.

Then she felt the bed dip again on each side of her legs, followed by clawed hands on her ass. She felt them knead her, pulling her cheeks apart. She could feel just how wet she was when he did so. A single clawed finger traced her slit.

“My, you are positively dripping, mouse,” he said with what sounded like amusement in his voice and then mockingly repeated what she had said to him: “Are you in love with me or something?”

The finger found her entrance and made teasing circles around it. There was some panic at the back of her mind about the claw, but it felt too good for her to really grasp it. Though when he dipped his finger inside her, she suddenly felt it fully and started squirming. His free hand quickly moved to her lower back and held her down so that she could not move.

“It will only hurt if you keep moving around,” he said as if he had read her mind. “Relax.”

It was not as if she had much choice. He was much stronger than her and the hand on her back made it so she could not move even if she wanted to. He was right though. He was careful with the way his finger moved inside her as to not scratch her.

As the panic ceased, pleasure took over and she started moaning softly into the pillow. She still wanted to move but for a different reason: she wanted more.

She felt a second finger enter her and it was only Raphael’s hand on her back that stopped her from arching it. Even when he added a third, it did not hurt. She could feel his claws inside her, but he somehow knew how to angle them, so that they did not cause her pain.

All of a sudden, he pulled his fingers out, leaving her feeling empty. She was already a moaning mess at this point, and she whined at his absence. She felt him rest his arm on her upper back, pushing her down into the mattress as he leaned over her. She heard a drawer open beside the bed. He took something from it and closed it.

He poured some sort of liquid and she felt him distributing it over her ass and slit. For a moment she feared that he had planned on anal, but she soon after learned why lubrication was necessary.

He leaned fully over her and put one arm under her neck, holding her head up from the pillow. She was completely pressed into the mattress under his size and weight. She felt him against her ass. He rubbed his hard cock up and down between her cheeks and she felt that feeling of panic rise within her again. She might not be able to see what was going on, but she could feel it: he was big.

“I couldn’t persuade you into changing into your other form?” she choked out from underneath him.

“And deny you feeling all of me?” he purred into her ear. “I did give you a chance to say no, little mouse.”

She felt him teasing her entranced with the head of his cock. She mentally braced herself. He at least had the decency to enter her slowly. The sounds Tav made were between gasps and moans as he filled her completely. The groans and growls he was making in her ear made her even wetter, despite the pain she was feeling from his size.

She couldn’t even do anything to accommodate his size as her legs were still bound together, making her lie prone underneath him. By the time he was fully inside she felt as though she was being ripped apart. He started moving slowly.

After while it stopped hurting as much and his pace quickened. It didn’t take long before he came inside her with a growl in her ear that she could feel in her whole body. She thought it might be over, but he didn’t pull out. He stayed exactly how he was. He kissed and nibbled at her neck with his sharp teeth. Only a couple of minutes later he was hard again.

He took her over and over again like that for what felt like hours. She managed to come multiple times and by the end of it she was so out of breath and overstimulated that she felt like leaving her body by the time Raphael finally pulled out and got off her.

She breathed hard into the mattress. She could feel just how much cum was leaking out of her after he pulled out. She was an exhausted mess. She wanted to make some smart comment once they were finished but her mind was mush.

Raphael rolled her over onto her back so she could breathe properly after having been pinned underneath him for so long. She felt a claw under the silk ribbons that tied her legs together, cutting them up. She immediately moved her legs once they were freed and whined at the feeling of soreness. He did the same with the ribbon around her wrists.

She removed the blindfold, now that she was fully freed and sat up on the bed. They had made a mess out of the sheets, she noticed. She looked up at Raphael who surprisingly didn’t seem the least bit exhausted. Except for a few strands of hair out of place, he looked fine. Tav felt like she had been to war. He smirked at her.

“Tired?” he asked.

She nodded. She was still out of breath. Her eyes went to his once again erect member. She looked at him with almost pleading eyes. She could not do more of this. He chuckled at her reaction and brushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

“As entertaining as it would be to break you, I won’t do so tonight,” he said. “I will have Haarlep take over instead. I have a suspicion that they have something to do with all of this and they could use a little reminder of their place.”

How the fuck could he keep going? Did Haarlep deal with this daily? Tav wasn’t sure she really wanted to know. She had never felt so thoroughly used as she felt now. Her whole body was aching. She wasn’t even sure she could stand on her legs.

Raphael got up from the bed to look through a wardrobe. He threw one of his shirts at her. She looked at it for a moment and then remembered that Raphael could transport her to anywhere in the Mortal realm when sending her back, so she decided that maybe it was a good idea to put on some clothing.

She pulled it on with her aching limbs. It was far too big for her, but it covered her naked body at least. He was looking her up and down with a self-satisfied smirk, admiring her in his clothes and how he had ruined her completely.  

“It would be greatly appreciated if you didn’t send me back to a busy street or something while I’m in this state,” she said.

He smiled at her.

“You speak as if I don’t know where you live, dear,” he said. “I never let my favorite clients out of my sight.”

He raised his hand to snap.

“Until next time, little mouse. Do try not to be kidnapped my any other devils in the meantime. I do so hate to share.”

Snap.

(Thank you for this ask <3 Sorry for being super slow at going through my inbox.)

[sozzledjuja]

Mephisto & Praxina - A Relationship Analysis

Because part of me wishes that the twins' dynamic had been more explored in the show, while Mephisto was still "alive".

There are honestly so many scenes, especially in season 2, where you could feel the main underlying issues between them, but they were never actually adressed or explored.

Also, feel free to add your own thoughts, maybe stuff that I missed, or things you disagree with as well.

Let's start with this scene, from Cute As A Doll, which I'm surprised not more people are talking about:

So, Praxina gets hurt by Auriana's blast, and Mephisto immediately stops his chase for Iris to teleport next to his sister, to make sure she's alright.

Aaaaanddd- she yells at him for caring/worrying, telling him to just go after Iris.

LOOK AT HIS FACE BRO. Homeboy was truly worried, but then immediately gets back in the game.

It's easy to just look at the dismissive and "careless" way in which Praxina treats Mephisto most of the time, and rule her off as "heartless". However, this sentiment seems to also be present when HE tries to "connect" or worries about her.

We see this again in Forget You:

She sees attachments and emotions as a sign of weakness and vulnerability, and clearly doesn't allow herself to feel it and lashes out whenever her brother does.

This refusal to accept love and affection is usually born out of an inherent lack of trust in people. It comes from a place of fear. She seems to prefer to remain impartial and formal as much as possible, regardless of how much her brother (or anyone else, for the matter) wishes to get close to her.

When it comes to other people, I believe she simply doesn't trust that the gestures of affection are real/genuine.

Good!Praxina, in Forget You I believe, was less of a "possibly redeemed" Praxina and more of a "blank page" Praxina, as in, what she would've been like had none of the Gramorr or the other bad stuff happened.

Still, let's not forget that Good!Praxina still clearly had some concerning instincts, so some of her less pleasant characteristics like her destructive behavior, lack of empathy, difficulty accepting affection and praise, and connecting with people, were probably already there since the beggining.

Iris said it herself:

Remember, Good!Praxina still didn't like the idea of helping people when the girls first tried to teach her how to be a good person; Only AFTER being exposed to good influences did she actually begin to redirect her energy torwards "good" goals, and I think this proves that, in a different, more positive enviromnent, she would've definetly turned out differently.

But, alas- she didn't, so here I am, writing this big ass psychological assessment. Which is mostly her fault.

Also Mephisto clearly has some issues of his own when it comes to how his sister treats him (which, let's be honest, while I wouldn't call it abusive, she definetly isn't an easy person to care about).

Also the fact that she seems to think he's incapable of doing anything right definetly bothers him more than he lets on.

It's easy to laugh these moments off but there's definetly something much deeper going on.

Again

And again

And again. and this one was fucked up

And in many other times.

Oh- and the fact that she always blames him for everything. Which is another one of Praxina's biggest flaws: an inability to admit fault or take any sort of accountibility. Aaand shifting the blame.

Which he knows, and this is clearly something that he takes and takes, until he snaps.

This moment in If You Can't Beat Them was also really telling on how he actually feels about how his sister never actually shows any appreciation for his contributions, and seems to think he's weaker and less capable of reason as she is.

I genuinely do not know what goes through Praxina's brain to make her do this. I don't know wether she actually genuinely believes he's stupid and fucks everything up or not.

And Gramorr, although he doesn't outright show much preference for Praxina in spite of Mephisto, seems to share the sentiment, given that he appears to be slightly less patient/harsher towards him than his sister.

What I can say is that Praxina definetly believes that he is the weakest link between them (which might seem like it's true at first glance, but I wouldn't be so sure as to state it), which, given the previous statement, might also be a result of Gramorr himself thinking/saying it, since they've probably been training under his wing for quite a long time, which would make her (and Mephisto) easily influenced by his opinion, as an authority figure.

And he might pretend it doesn't effect him, but we all know that deep down it does, and that he's kinda insecure despite all his bravado.

I think Mephisto's always been more sensitive and more "emotionally-inclined" than his sister, even before Gramorr. I believe that both twins have the potential to be good, but Mephisto is definetly more "hardwired" for it than Praxina.

And we already know what she thinks about that: emotion=weakness.

And part of her wants to keep reminding him she's better too. The girl's got a big ego to stroke.

Mephisto also seems to have more morals than his sister.

We can see that throughout the show he's helped the princesses sometimes: Iris, with whom he teamed up with to save his sister in If You Can't Beat Them, in which he even told her he'd be honored to serve her as queen of Ephidea, had circunstances been different, which I truly believe he meant;

And Carissa, in Statue Game, who he ALSO teamed up with to save his sister, and who, let's not forget, he gave the other evil amulet back to, so that the princesses could reverse the spell that turned that human girl into stone.

And when Gramorr got the last gem, Mephisto seemed to actually be horrified by what was happenning.

He clearly wasn't totally fine with enslaving the entire planet.

Praxina, on the other hand, seemed pretty okay with it.

Ecstatic even.

She's relishing in what's happening, that's what she wants. To bend other to her will, to be feared rather than loved, to have power over others.

Maybe not what she needs, but what she WANTS.

Mephisto realizing that is GOLD from a storytelling prespective.

I feel like he looked at her in hopes she'd be as concerned as he was, that they were on the same page about the situation, only to find her- well, laughing. I joked about this being his "oh shit, these people are actually evil" moment, but I think part of him was only surprised with Praxina. Maybe he hadn't realized just how far this "lifestyle" had actually shaped his sister.

We know for sure that Mephisto has higher levels of empathy than Praxina. And common sense. This is why I always disagree when people say that Praxina is smarter than Mephisto. She might be more "logical" and "rational", but neither of those things equate to cleverness. Mephisto seems to be more astute and more intuitive.

Him starting to realize Gramorr was probably not gonna give them shit is a great example of this.

Which Praxina did NOT even think about. She was on a high, thinking about all the power they were gonna have now that Gramorr was free and back in action. Miss girl, you are delusional.

Honestly Praxina's fatal flaws deserve their own separate post.

Because let's be clear: I'm trying to debunk all of the twin's relationship issues, and everytime, it's clear who's actually responsible for everything going badly in the emotional realm.

I love her but she IS the problem. Not saying Mephisto is a poor innocent baby who never did anything wrong his whole life (I'm looking at you, lolirock fandom). He definetly has a lot of flaws and bad traits himself, but he's not the one to blame for anything regarding his and his sister's relationship.

To conclude,

THIS is normal sibling behaviour.

All the rest I showed above this SHOULD. NOT. BE.

This is not me saying they have a bad relationship, but I am saying that they don't have a fantastic one either.

Also, I blame dark magic too. The Team has confirmed it makes them more irritable, so there's that too.

They really care about each other, and I don't doubt that BOTH of them would do anything to keep the other safe. But they got lots of unspoken stuff to talk about.

And are both in desperate need of therapy

[gwenllian-in-the-abbey]

Hi! thoughts on Alicole? I won’t lie not a fan + it’s character assassination to make Alicent a hypocrite in regards to Rhaenyra. I will still be an Alicent fan after but c’mon we know why that scene was added and it was not to benefit the Green faction.

To be honest anon, it doesn't bother me that much? At least I'm willing to see how it plays out. I can see a lot of reasons why Alicent, who was a child bride at 14 and who has never experienced consensual or enjoyable sex, might turn to Cole now that she is a widow. As someone who was primarily a book reader first, show enjoyer second, I was not as attached to Rhaenicent as a ship as some people were, so that probably influences my view. That's a relationship I always viewed as something that would always remain subtextual, and Alicole happening doesn't influence my feelings about that. Alicent has not really explored her sexuality at all, she sort of shut it down at age 14, and it makes sense to me that she might have this period of awakening now that she is free from Viserys. I'm certain that she and Cole are going to have a lot of guilt about it, and that it will probably drive conflict within the green faction going forward, and that Olivia Cooke will act her heart out. It's sure to be messy and for that reason I'll give it a chance.

As for hypocrisy, just keep in mind, being a hypocrite doesn't make a person wrong! Hypocrites are annoying, but arguing that someone is a hypocrite is an attack on the person making the argument, not the argument itself. If I am cheating on my spouse and tell you cheating on your spouse is bad and you shouldn't do it, I'm a hypocrite, but I'm not wrong about cheating on your spouse. And besides, team black fans have been saying since season 1 ended that Rhaenyra should be able to sleep with whoever she wants even while married to Laenor, so what is the problem with Alicent sleeping with someone consensually in her widowhood? If it should be a problem for anyone it should be a problem for Cole, who is breaking his vows. Alicent also isn't putting illegitimate children in the line of succession, which is the actual problem with Rhaenyra's affair with Harwin, not the sex itself. And honestly, hypocrisy is really the least of anyone's problems in the Dance. We're getting to the part of the Dance where small children get murdered, cities get razed, and hundreds of women are carted off by reavers, among other atrocities. Hypocrisy is the least of anyone's problems.

I'll also say this. One of the few early criticisms of S2 is that it seems like team green has most of the juicy storylines and more complex characters, and team black's storyline is kind of bland by comparison. Now, fans of the greens have been saying this for two years now, and mostly agreeing that it's a good thing. I don't know about anyone else, but if I'm watching a show, above all I want to watch quality television. Of course, I want team green to be presented fairly, but I don't think watching with mind to how many discourse points you'll have to cede to team black or vice versa is really going to be a satisfying or enjoyable way of approaching the show. So watch the episodes and decide if the decisions are in-character, serve the narrative, make sense, and improve upon the source material, rather than judging based on whether or not you'll have to fight with clowns online who will call Alicent a hypocrite.

[redbuddi]

Do NOT Read "Lady Crystal is a Man"

People who know me know that I'm a little bit of a webtoon addict. I'm basically always reading a million different fantasy romances, even as someone who is not personally interested in romance in real life. Because of this, I am well aware of the more problematic elements of a lot of webtoons, to the point where it's easier to list webtoons that aren't problematic than to name ones that are. It's unfortunate, but it's a common aspect of webtoon consumption that most people get used to. (Note: When I say webtoons, I am talking about the genre of phone-optimized romance webcomics as a whole, not just things from the WEBTOON app. The series in question is on Tapas.)

Because of that, I will admit it is partially on me for assuming this comic was going to be more progressive than it actually was. People new to webtoons may be fooled, but I should have known better. On top of that, I am well aware that female-oriented romance stories can sometimes be a little toxic, and while this is a problem that needs to be worked on, I also know about what can happen when something meant for teenage girls is criticized. Even when the criticism is in good faith, it can start a trend of bashing anything teenage girls like and shaming them for wanting to explore media that is anything but flawless. I don't want to add to that.

But this series isn't just a little problematic. It doesn't just have some questionable elements or common plot failings. This is a series that has the potential to seriously hurt anyone who is trans, gnc, or gender questioning, and could give anyone who isn't any of those things the wrong idea about what is and isn't appropriate when it comes to trans/gnc/gender questioning individuals.

If you would like the td;dr, then in a nutshell this comic portrays material that could make an individual feel shame, discomfort, or even body dysmorphia. And on top of that the protagonist is cruelly gaslit and manipulated in ways that the series presents as if it were just light teasing, and that is all only in the 19 chapters that I was able to stomach before dropping the series entirely.

If you would like a more detailed description of this series' flaws, then I will continue below the cut.

cw: transphobia, body dysmorphia, gaslighting

Lady Crystal is a Man follows the story of a man raised as a woman attempting to escape a forced marriage by going to the mysterious and dangerous duke Illian, unaware that Illian is secretly a woman. The story is essentially a combination of two tropes, the Crossdressing Romance trope, where the main character and/or their love interest is secretly not the gender they present themselves as, a trope which has been around for as long as female-oriented comics has existed, and something a little more specific to webtoons (to my knowlege,) the Contract Marriage trope, wherin the protagonist escapes a bad situation by entering a temporary marriage with someone else, only for true romance to bloom between them. I have read many webtoons about Contractual Marriages, but not very many about crossdressing. As a nonbinary person, I tend to be uncomfortable with the highly traditional way many webtoons portray gender roles, and so I try to steer clear of series that tackle gender directly, but that is not to say no webtoon as ever handled it well. In particular one of my favorite webtoons, Alien Idol, tackles gender in an extremely understanding and informative fashion, even taking the time to acknowledge places where it's knowledge is lacking, which I've never seen a comic do so honestly before. Most webtoons are not like this, unfortunately, but that is only to my knowledge, and recently I've been wanting to expand my horizons a little bit. How can I be sure so many comics handle it poorly if I don't even read them for myself, after all? That is what convinced me to check out Lady Crystal is a Man.

In the first few chapters I was hooked. The series has extremely good artwork, and it first appeared to me that they might be trying to do a metaphor for t4t couples. Crystal is constantly coached on how to act and behave as a woman, because if he lives as a man he will be killed by his cruel and uncaring family. He takes a drug to halt his growth, and this drug is actively harming him, he is literally being torn up from the inside having to live as something he is not. He envies masculine traits he observes in others, and dreams of running away to live with the people who truly love him, cutting his hair short, and living as himself. It's because of this that I made the mistake of buying multiple chapters in advance instead of just waiting for them to unlock, and that's why I read so far into this series when normally I would have dropped it the moment it started to go downhill. Anyway, Crystal meets duke Illian, and already a connection is established by the narrative in how the two have had to live in fear of being who they really are. And at this point I was ready for them to start relating to each other and forming a bond.

This does not happen. Not really, anyway.

Illian tricks Crystal into thinking that the marriage paperwork went through extremely fast, and that they are now husband and wife. This is a red flag, but in the same chapter Illian reveals that she's just teasing Crystal as payback for trying to trick her, and that she will fully support Crystal's escape to be with her family as soon as the snow clears up. But then she doesn't. Even when Crystal admits the truth to her, and the snow clears up, Illian maintains the facade that they are married and that Crystal will have to keep staying with them until the annulment paperwork can go through. This happens because Crystal, under the impression that they are really married and that he has tricked Illian into falling in love with him only to have her heart broken, decides to take responsibility for his actions instead of running away like he originally planned. And Illian, hearing this, continues to lie to Crystal about their being married. This establishes a pattern that will continue from here: Crystal will show genuine care and consideration for others, and will be rewarded for it by being continuously manipulated by the people around him.

It's at this point that Illian finds out that Crystal is not a cis male. Not because Crystal told her, mind you, but because Crystal faints due to side effects from the drug he is taking, and Illian, who has taken the same drug, recognizes them. At first this is fine to me. I like that Illian does not get angry or upset, or even wants to confront Crystal on this, and at first I thought it was because Illian respected Crystal's boundaries and would only acknowledge it if Crystal decided to tell her. She even continues to refer to Crystal with female pronouns, even when she deduces that Crystal might be living as a woman just to not be killed in the battle for succession. But then, Illian decides to "make sure" that Crystal isn't cis. And while we aren't directly shown, it is heavily implied that Illian looked under Crystal's nightgown to see his genitals.

There had been one or two red flags up to this point. In particular, focus on the size of Crystal's hands. This was off putting to me, as this is something that could hurt people. Even people who aren't transfeminine could be hurt by this, the fact that having bigger hands than what is considered "normal" for a woman and how this is treated like a clue to Crystal's gender identity is something that would hurt anyone who identifies as a woman but doesn't fit what is considered a normal body standard. Focus on hands is even something that can be a big dogwhistle for TERFs, although I don't suspect the author is a TERF since I'm fairly certain this is a Korean comic, and I don't know what the discourse on gender in Korea is like.

Regardless, even with my growing suspicions, this was a massive shock. Crystal was unconscious at the time, unable to consent. This is unambiguously a massive violation, but the comic portrayed it as just a silly, over-the-top bit of shenanigans by our female lead. I know for a fact that this wouldn't have happened if the genders were swapped, in every webtoon I've read people who try to look under women's skirts are treated as disgusting perverts. But because Crystal is a man, suddenly it's cute and funny when his privacy is undermined. And this is the turning point where the series goes from a seemingly flawed but earnest attempt at a trans metaphor to a showcase of the most disgusting abuse I have ever seen in a story, all written as though it were just silly antics by people who are ultimately in the right.

Soon Illian and the doctor she had look at Crystal begin internally referring to him with masculine pronouns, all without asking if it's what Crystal wants to be seen as. As the doctor mulls over Crystal's potential circumstances, she thinks "Few people pretend to be the other gender, even fewer do so against their will," the series acknowledging the existence of trans people, but only as "petenders." And again, this is before they even know for sure if Crystal is doing this against his will. All the while, Crystal is portrayed in more and more infantalizing ways. He plays with snow like a child. He doesn't understand basic social cues, or even that people might be lying when they speak to him. He accepts everything Illian tells him without checking, even when he knew going into this that he would need to be careful. Illian secretly alters Crystal's communication devices so that she can see everything that Crystal says when he sends out messages to his friends in the east, who are waiting to take him in, unaware that he has been manipulated into staying against his wishes. Illian is drawn in by the way Crystal wears his heart on his sleeve, and doesn't want to let him go, even though she knows that Crystal has a home somewhere else. Crystal is prevented from escaping, and isn't even giving the courtesy of knowing that he is a prisoner.

There is another character in the comic, a cook who is portrayed as being large and strong, completely unfeminine despite being female. For one thing she's a show of hypocrisy, a cis female is a female, without question even if they don't fit eurocentric standards of femininity, but a trans female has to pass these standards with flying colors, and even then they don't really count. But there is another thing about this character. She is regularly referred to as a "monster" for her immense strength, size, and endurance. She owns it, seeming to be perfectly content with it, but not all real people who look like this would enjoy being called that. I feel that this is another acknowledgement of the other, that yes there are cis people who also don't perfectly fit their expected appearances, but they're not normal. They are exceptions. Monsters.

And then came the chapter that made me drop this series for good, completely overwriting my buyers remorse with disgust. Illian has to leave for a mission, and had instructed the Doctor to take away the drug that Crystal is using to maintain a feminine body. The doctor confronts Crystal, telling him that she "knows" he's a man, and blackmails him, threatening to tell Illian if Crystal doesn't hand over the drug. In exchange, the doctor gives Crystal a magic ring that she says will make other people perceive him as female. This is already bad for a few reasons, namely that even during this confrontation, the doctor never asks Crystal if he truly identifies as a woman or not. If Crystal did identify as a woman, then the ring would be a terrible trade. A person who wants to look at themselves as feminine does not do so in the hopes that other people will see them the same way. While the perception of others is certainly a concern, the main consideration is if the person sees themselves as feminine. A ring that only allows other people to see them as feminine would certainly be useful for people who don't want to be misgendered or seen in a way they don't want to be seen, but it wouldn't be an adequate replacement if it wouldn't help the wearer get a body that makes them comfortable. At best it would just be a supplement to something else.

But worst of all, it's all a lie. The ring doesn't actually work. It's all a trick to get Crystal to give up the drug. Yes the drug is harmful to Crystal, and Crystal himself doesn't want to take it, but as far as the Doctor knows Crystal could be trying to appear feminine for his own reasons. But without even consulting him, Illian and the doctor assume they know what's best for Crystal and trick him into giving up what could very well be the thing making him happy and comfortable in his own skin. Imagine how horrific things would be for Crystal if that was the case. Seeing his body change in ways he does not want, entirely against his will, and since the ring doesn't actually work his transformation would be fully visible to everyone around him. But instead of asking what if he wants this, Illian and the doctors decide to play the odds, and this is written as though they're being helpful by doing this. To add insult to injury, the doctor internally criticizes Crystal for accepting the trade without questioning it, seemingly forgetting that Crystal was essentially forced into it.

For obvious reasons, this was the point where I had had enough. This was abuse, plain and simple. Yes characters are not real people, and there is a place for stories that tackle things like abuse and manipulation, but this series never acknowledges the horror of what it's characters are doing, treating these things as though they're just cute and quirky romcom gags, maybe not normal but ultimately harmless. Meanwhile in the real world, these things are deeply harmful and hurtful to the readers of this series, especially those who, like the characters of the story, are forced to live in identities that are not themselves.

It's pretty common for webtoons to tackle things like this without really knowing what they're doing, and usually I'm able to shrug it off and keep reading, even if still criticizing it, as long as it seems the writers have the best of intentions. Making mistakes is how we learn, after all, and a lot of webtoons are written by young adults living in conservative societies who just need the chance to see other people's experiences. But there is a point where I draw the line, and that is when there is no perceivable compassion whatsoever for the types of people they are portraying. As I mentioned, the comic clearly shows an understanding that there are people who do not live as the gender that they are assigned at birth. But it does not see them as people. Even beyond the "pretend" line, gender is portrayed as concrete, inescapable, with terrible consequences for trying to change it. It portrays transfeminine people as clueless, weak, and unable to decide for themselves what's good for them, and illustrates anyone who doesn't fit typical standards of appearance as a strange and terrifying other that shouldn't be considered on the same level as everyone else. In general webtoons already have a massive issue with beauty standards, (don't even get me started on the way fat people are usually written,) but this is a whole other level of cruelty. While this comic was probably not specifically made to harm people, it takes careful steps to put people it doesn't like "in their place." It wants you to feel bad about yourself. This comic and comics like it should never be supported, not just for political reasons, but because, like it's characters, this comic is trying to enforce ideals that it feels for best for you, regardless of if it's what you actually want. And no one deserves to be hurt like that.

So if you see this comic or a comic like it, I encourage you to turn away. If they won't portray us as human, then we don't have any obligation to give them our support.

[boywifesammy]

im sure everyone’s seen the argument by non-wincest shippers that canon weirdcest moments can be explained off as particularly close brothers. i’ve seen wincesties respond by straight up denying it, but honestly, i see where they’re coming from. they do TECHNICALLY have a point, yet still, it fundamentally doesnt sit well with me.

if you isolate all of these little incidents they could be perceived as purely brotherly. its got me thinking about what exactly makes wincest so appealing, and why i as a wincest shipper immediately have an exasperated reaction to people insisting that sam&dean are purely platonic.

i also see this argument frequently bundled with the stance that “weirdcest isn’t a justification for shipping wincest” (which is a whole other can of worms altogether— the puritan culture of ship culture rn), but you gotta take a step back and just ask yourself… why am i so intent on seeing these characters as platonic?

the prevailing argument ive seen is that siblings CAN be terribly close without being incestuous. this is totally fair. i’m not saying that if you are particularly close with your siblings in a sam & dean type manner that you are incestuous. obviously relationships between family is vastly complex & changes with the culture you grew up in.

the only problem here is that people try to go so far to explain sam&dean’s relationship as to not paint it as romantic. if they weren’t related, it’d be insane to think they weren’t romantic. they are consistently and repeatedly put in situations and exchange dialogue that’s used to convey romantic tone in western media. my point here being— the writers know that they are doing. and they are doing it INTENTIONALLY.

yes, certain cultures find extensive physical touch and kisses between siblings platonically acceptable. yes, you can be very close to your siblings without wanting to fuck them. but that is such a reach given what you are being presented with. you are missing the fundamental thematic point of supernatural: family horror!!

by so steadfastly arguing that sam&dean cannot be read as romantic you are purposefully ignoring the the text. you are glossing over the repeating themes of generational trauma and incest that are touched on time and time again, with john’s father abandoning him, mary’s parents being hunters, the struggle she went through to get out of the life but how family trauma & the past permeates itself into your being. you are ignoring the benders, the ghost pregnant with her fathers child, and the time azazel KISSED MARY in HER FATHERS BODY.

supernatural pushes incestuous themes SO HARD. it purposefully plays with & explores the double-sided blade that is family. it touches on a REALLY TABOO subject without being overwhelming or heavy handed. of course its going to attract people who enjoy these themes. OF COURSE we’re going to look at the two homoerotic brother leads and see something between them! it’s intentionally placed in the script! its a valid reading of the text!

this is why i get frustrated when people say that wincest shippers are twisting canon for the sake of shipping, because we’re not. when people say this they are taking a piece of media that is intriguing in how it handles a socially unacknowledged part of the human experience and forcing their viewing of it on others. they are saying that you aren’t allowed to enjoy those themes because it is inherently wrong or shameful to EXPLORE THE TOPIC. i dunno. that sounds pretty authoritarian to me.

it’s totally fine to be grossed out by incest or avoid wincest because it makes you uncomfortable. what ISNT okay is to say its an exaggerated reaction to canon, because it really isnt. in fact, its a pretty normal & sane conclusion to come to after seeing those two. the fact that they aren’t explicitly incestuous might even enhance this idea. it touches on the unspoken secretive nature of family trauma and the complicated, messy reality of crossing boundaries with blood without being cliche or overdramatic.

im going to incite occam’s razor here: yes, they could just be brothers. yes, you can explain it all away as particularly close siblings. yes, you can argue that it isnt explicitly canon. but really, why would you do all that when the show incessantly implies that they’re more? and more importantly, why are you so quick to say that a topic cannot be explored because it’s complicated? is that really the sentiment that we as a society want to hold regarding media?

[royaltealee]

Deathly silent

P x Puppet!Reader

⚠️Content warnings⚠️: Depictions of not understanding feelings~ (as one does when becoming human) Kidnapping, getting electrocuted (P's gonna go through it-)

Additional notes: Thank you to EVERYONE Who has found my blog and will continue to look forward to my other works being finished. I am entirely greatful to all of you, and I hope that you all have a fantastic holiday!

Without further adue~

Part: 1

Part: 2

Part: 3

You ran back to the Opera house, a harsh beating in your chest. You never thought that having a heart could hurt so much, is that what it was? A heart?

Sure you had one, but it felt so full of something. It's gears clicking in a beat of what a heart should be steady as. It had never felt like this before.

And your lungs burned, you shouldn't have them, yet they felt ever present... what was happening? Opening the large doors to the opera house, you were greeted with a handful of puppets awaiting your return. Running straight towards Romeo's room, where the half-puppet resided.

Almost as if he knew you were there, he opened the door before you could even knock.You see as his shoulders squared uncomfortably, eyes wide with shock. He spoke first.

"Are you alright? You look a bit shaken..."

A bit shaken was an understatement.

He watched as you fiddle with your fingers, unknowing what to do with them. He could tell you were under distress... but, something was blocking the feeling all together. He was usually able to gain feedback from other puppets, sort of like a hivemind of sorts. He couldn't reach you... not like he had before. It was like a thick wall was placed over your head, he couldn't feel anything that you were feeling, thinking, and it honestly worried the straw blond to his very core.You are one of his only friends that was still (Kinda) alive.

He would never forgive himself if something were to happen to you now, he knew Carlo would wring his neck from the grave if he could...

"I- I feel my heart pounding! Is it supposed to hurt this badly?! He- I saw him Romeo..!"

"What? You're speaking nonsense-"

"Carlo! I saw Carlo, Romeo!"

You felt your mechanical organ clench when you see his face turn from confusion, to utter shock, a type of shock that spurse him into wanting to cry, but he's unable.. in this new body of his.

"You... must be mistaken."

"Something's terribly wrong.." You took ahold of Romeo's arm, the man slowly turned his gaze to your... slightly more wet ones. "He looked more... puppet, less humane. But before he stopped attacking... he looked at me as if I was a whole new idea, never explored before. An answer." Was this a gut feeling? Romeo couldn't lie... You sounded so human in this moment, that it caused the blond to look you in the eyes for a moment.

He could recognize the emotions that plagued you now. It was foggy, but that hint of pure fear, and absolute hurt that was welled in the dents of your healing mind. If you weren't already showing signs of humanity already, you certainly were now.You weren't completely human, but you were slowly getting there.

Romeo took in a breath, closing his eyes, opening them up again before looking straight ahead out into the burning streets of Rosa Isabella.

"The last few months have only gotten worse for the populous of Krat. If what you say is true... And Carlo is somehow alive and well, I need you to bring him here." Romeo took your hand that had clung onto his arm. Feeling his strings tighten, while yours slacked. Looking back to your feeling struck eyes with such intensity.

"Bring our friend home."

-------------

"Gee, that was quite something; Huh P?"

Gemini spoke to the puppet boy, he could tell that he was lost in thought after the puppet he had fought had up and run away.

The strange language that sounded oh so familiar, but it never clicked with him. Questions running through his head at rapid speeds. He had thought you were one of the many attack stricken puppets he had encountered so far. But when Sophia's Ergo Butterfly had touched you, he saw something he could't recognize. As if someone had cleared your mind and opened your eyes.

Then a new emotion that he couldn't understand had struck you, and you fled.

P hated the feeling of confusion by now, he wanted to learn about so much now that he had a small taste of it.

Then, he could finally understand you, your words gave the boy a small feeling of longing, he really wanted to see you again. The puppet that had started to shift into his thoughts, like a brand new cog that made its own ticking beat beside his P organ heart. He had cross the threshold of Krat central station, and had saved The great inventor Venigni.

Venigni had told him about The Puppet King before, and he had felt he was almost there, the one possibly behind the Puppet frenzy. The Attack that single handedly destroyed the complete populous of Krat.

And his father, the one that had helped him though these times of complete and utter confusion, enlightened him to things that he felt were a bit too hard for the puppet to understand. Even Gemini ought to thank Geppetto for the extra guidance.

It was little over an hour walk to and from the rainy atmosphere of Hotel Krat and to Rosa Isabella Street, and that was *with the use of stargazers. The puppet boy had taken down some of the more dangerous Puppets in the area. The fire trickling through the streets would unnerve anyone, especially with the waning song that was blaring through the speakers meant to spread hope for Krat... It only brought an unsteady stomach.

P had kept his eyes sharp and peeled, any familiar colors or movements, a Puppet could come come racing around any corner. It's happened way too many times before, Gemini even helped (Somewhat-) with a sneak attack from behind. But it was usually all up to P with the fighting skills.

"Hey... is it just me, or does it feel like we're being watched right now?" Gemini asked with a small creek, the puppet also feeling that cold hard chill run against his metal spinal cord; he was more alert now.

And just like that, with his peripheral vision, a shadow figure had dashed past before he could take a good look. The inexperienced feeling of nervousness coursed through the puppet boy, it wasn't bad enough to the point of shut down, but he could definitely feel his P-organ heart start to hammer.

But sense nothing had outwardly attacked... he pressed through. He couldn't waste energy on a runaway fight that would go nowhere.

He couldn't say that he wasn't hoping it was the puppet he had faught, Sophia had told him that you were an old friend of Geppetto's, but as the story goes, you had become part of the puppet frenzy. He could see the methodical look on the blue haired girls pale face but couldn't make out what she was thinking.

Her powers were great, the voice of ergo helping him down the path of becoming more human by choice. New feelings were definitely overwhelming at times, but when he finally starts to feel... he couldn't have it any other way.

When he had asked Geppetto about you, his eyes... they held conflict. It wasn't long before his father had changed the subject completely, he did say something interesting though before the conversation had ended.

"They were real, but not really living. They had felt feelings... but it was a lie." He had finished after that.

"P BEHIND YOU!" Gemini had screamed at the terrifying onslaught of your figure bariling straight towards him. Snapping out of his thoughts, P had turned around quickly, his hand reaching for his sword, but felt the sharp blade of another cut through his sleeved wrist and catching the handle with the tip, flinging it out of its sheath in one swift move. P's weapon had clattered to the ground, quickly going to after it- only for his chest to be met with a quick jab of a shoe. His back had hit the gravily ground harshly, he also heard Gemini groan when his cage had jossiled and smacked against the pavement.

Trying to find his bearings, P had sat up unfocused glass eyes watched as a figure had appeared before him in his fogged up state. Blade pressed against chest where his heart should be, the hand that connected to it held that familiar blazing ergo blue ring right on their ring finger. He had found you! But the situation feels strangely deja-vu...

A word crackled in your voice; it was that strange language again. Oddly enough, the words sounded extremely more clearer than when other puppets had spoke in their blind rage and with oil filling up their lungs that P didn't have time to listen to their pained jumbled words. P looked to you with confusion yet again, not understanding a word you had just said, feeling you slightly lower your blade in thought, he thought that it was safe to at least stand up.

The blade followed quickly back towards him as he stood, watching as you tensed up from the sudden movement. But only seeing that he had just stood from the very likely uncomfortable ground... you made no more moves. A long amount of silence had enveloped the air, it felt thick, like a fog that couldn't be cleared up, two puppets having some sort of language barrier was seemingly unheard of. He could finally get a good look at you, wide eyes filled with a sort of sadness he couldn't quite place, your facial features made you look whimsical, very different from the other puppets he's seen, almost exactly like him.

Without so much as a thought, P had reached a hand towards your clasped ones, a single finger brushing against your closed fist. It seems that you had also been in your own mind as well, quickly pulling back quickly when seeing a bright light had flashed against the ring when physical contact was made. Staring at the pulsating ergo light, P could almost feel his gears turning in tandem with yours. Blue specks of light had flashed faintly in his eyes, as he let you take a minute.

"There's always something crazy going on when I leave my area..." You had grumbled, not noticing the puppet boy jump from the familiar language spilling from your lips. P had quickly stepped closer yet again, curiosity overshadowed his suspicions.

"Again."

Now you were the one looking baffled, a swift turn of the head caused P to tilt his head in question. Those eyes held secrets that he wanted to discover, after all, Sophia had once said that the soul is laid within the eyes, and they were true to every human he has encountered, so he had made it a goal to try and peer and look through the depths of one's pools every now and again to find... something. But never in his weeks of existing has he seen a fickle of life in the other puppets eyes, no life had shone in them; only the sparkle of rain and clouded dust settled on them faintly.

But you... yours were akin to a humans, so deep he could almost fall in...

"What do you mean again?" P was shaken from his thoughts yet again, he swears he could almost hear Gemini's stifled laughter.

"I could understand you now." His answer was a lot more blunter than what he had meant to- in all honesty, P hadn't had the need to talk all that much. It was just a normal occurrence to him to give answers only when spoken to, so when trying to find words after his usual one liners and small sentences were the norm for him.

You had taken another short break to digest the conversation unfolding between the two of you, P could almost see the thoughts that were running through your head when you thought of the next choice of words.

"What... is your name?" You had asked.

"My name..."

P started picking at the exposed gears on his legion arm, he didn't know outright what his name truly was, everyone around just mentioned him as "Geppetto's puppet" so... he made use of what he was usually called.

"P, as in the letter."

You had mumbled the name under your breath, seemingly testing it against your tongue. A revelation had graced your face seeing as you had now completely lowered your weapon, watching as he went to grab his own weapon and place it back in its sheath. He could almost feel his ears burn for more of your voice - it was an odd feeling really, one where your heart could not stop pumping, was a heart attack about to happen without his knowledge?

Looking for more words, he felt Gemini rock against his cage, whispering lowly: "Ask for her name!" P looked down at the kricket with an annoyed sour expression, feeling as if a parent was pushing a shy child toward another kid during free time to socialize.

"Are you going to be going to the Opera house?" The other puppet asked, causing P to have his attention be stolen from his thoughts yet again. The Opera house was of many areas he needed to check out- but not now. He still needed other things to take care of before heading over. The puppet boy shook his head, but stopped once he saw you looked you needed more than just a head shake.

"No... but soon." He could see your face almost fall into a look of disappointment, but held your neutral facade. By god, all of this thinking will surely get him killed one day.

You took a step forward, putting your weapon away in truce of no harm will be done to one another. Placing a gentle (And surprisingly very warm) hand onto his shoulder, you peered up at the boy, a regretful look flashed through your eyes, making him question- what were you so worried about?

"I do deeply apologize for what I'm about to do."

Before P could question you, a tremendous pain coursed through his body. Blue sparks of electricity had ran up his chest, down his arms and legs, and straight into his head. He couldn't protect his body fast enough from an Electro-blazer being shoved into his abdomen. and soon... he was out.

[lokisgoodgirl]

Say My Name: Clandestine F*cks [Avenger!Loki x Fem.Reader] 18+

Part of the Clandestine F*cks Collection A link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: (24) There is a plan afoot, and you have a special request for you and Loki's (potential) last night of passion. (w/c 5k) Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Smut. Soft!Dom. Role Play. Bondage. Language. Thor cringe.

A/N: Thank you @lokikissesmyforehead for inspiring the Thor spell idea, and to @lokischambermaid for helping shape it. 🍆

You and Loki had talked until the dawn. You both knew what had to be done, but it didn’t make it any easier. “One last night, Loki…just in case” you had murmured against his skin this morning, still wrapped in the sheets damp from your lovemaking.

He slipped his shoes on, perched on the edge of the bed. You rested your chin on his shoulder. “Let’s do that thing...the thing you keep saying I’m not ready for.” Loki flipped his hair back, running his hands through those delicious curls with a smile. “It’s not that you’re not ready darling, it’s just that once you have tasted that particular side of me...it is rather addictive. And I’m not sure now is the best time.”

You raised an eyebrow, lowering your face to nuzzle his crotch through the soft wool of his suit.

“I think it’s the perfect time” you hummed, kissing along his thigh “to get you in the zone for tomorrow.” “Darling…” he groaned, as your teeth grazed the outline of his cock nestled beneath the fabric. “I have certain business to attend to. Important business. Remember?” You hummed against his rising erection, making his thighs widen. With a sigh you roused yourself, his hands cupping your jaw before you could even take a breath. Loki kissed you with an intensity that made your stomach flip, the smooth skin of his cheeks and chin rubbing against yours as he devoured you with his love. “Trust me.” he rumbled darkly, pressing his forehead to yours. “Remember what I said yesterday, and all will be well.” He stood, flexing his neck as seidr concealed the growing erection beneath his tight trousers. “Considering the circumstances, I shall acquiesce to your request, love. Tonight, we will explore my more...theatrical side, as you wish.” He turned, lifting the back of your hand to his lips with a kiss. “Do you remember the safe word?” he purred against your skin.

---

“Brother, I must speak to you…” Thor murmured, standing far too close to be anything less than suspicious.

It was just before noon, the common room kitchens were buzzing. Loki stirred his tea, purposely clinking the porcelain with a spoon three times before he spoke. “Not this morning, brother. Not today. My enthuse for the dramatic is somewhat diminished of late.” His voice was firm, the words full of pregnant intent. Thor shook his head. “Tis’ not about any of yesterday’s unpleasantness brother, I require...the spell.” Loki’s brow furrowed as his mind ticked over the calculations. “The enchantment should last at least another month, brother, you must be mistaken” he muttered knowingly, a smile tugging at his lips.

The blonde growled under his breath, turning to lean his face closer, his blue eyes yearning for Loki’s understanding. “Brother, I implore you. The full weight of my Asgardian appendage is present beneath my garments and I cannot...they are so tight.”

He exhaled heavily, bringing his fingers to his forehead, “I am meeting a Lady for brunch soon brother. It is our third outing. You know what that means in Midgardian customs...” Loki cast his gaze down to where his brother was tugging at his crotch, a bulge the size of a ripe cantaloupe straining against the oversized denim. “Fine.” Loki snapped, tilting his chin towards his sibling. Thor began to unzip his jeans. “Not here, you cretin” the dark-haired god hissed, his eyes flickering up to where Clint and Bruce were playing cards at the kitchen table. “Honestly…”

Loki spun on his heels and walked out the door, hearing his fumbling sibling following him, spluttering aimlessly. “You know the issue brother, her midgardian pleasure-pocket will never fit the gargantuan might of our natural state-” Loki stopped, twisting the handle of an empty conference room and shoving his brother inside. “Well?” he huffed, raising his eyebrows towards his oafish kin in disdain as he closed the door. “Get on with it.” Thor unzipped the remainder of his fly, hoisting the enormous manhood to hang over his palm like a soft-roasted butternut squash. He bounced it, making it ripple. A seal flopping on ice. “Impressive, isn’t it brother?” Thor said smugly. Loki rolled his eyes. “I invented this spell for myself, brother.” he said, looking down sceptically at the flaccid slab of cock in his sibling’s outstretched hand. “Not as elegant as my own, I must say. Rather more...rustic, isn’t it? How appropriate.” A smirk toyed at Loki’s lips, a glow of seidr beginning to radiate from his palm as he hovered it above the offending appendage. “It is only by the grace of my powers you indulge in any of this realm’s carnal pleasures, brother. Remember that.” “Eh-he-he, it tingles...” Thor chuckled, before the door swung open. “Wow-wow-wow hell to the no.” Sam held his hands up to shield himself, eyes shut as he froze in place with a grimace.

“What fresh hell is this?” His voice was high, his mind processing what he had seen. “You Asgardians really are some filthy motherfuc-” “Calm yourself, Wilson.” Loki muttered, as Thor heaved his flopping member back inside the cell of his jeans, squishing it uncomfortably down his thighs.

“I was merely about to perform a simple-” Wilson’s eyes flew open, a finger pointing at Loki accusingly. “I don’t wanna hear it, Laufeyson. First Y/N, now whatever this is...nuh-uh. Nuh-uh.” “Y/N?” Thor mumbled, his brow furrowing questioningly, “I don’t know why my...my brother would remind you of...of...Y/N. Certainly there are no shenanigans afoot between them if that is what you are trying to imply by your-” “Dude, the cat is out of the bag and scratching up the place. Took a shit in the tub too. I know, that you know about him..” he pointed brashly again at Loki, who winced, “and Y/N. Although that doesn’t explain whatever I just saw and dude you need to see a doctor like, immediately. Jesus.” He brought his hand to his brow, rubbing firmly. “WHAT?” Thor boomed, the button of his straining trousers popping unceremoniously to the floor.

Loki patted his shoulder, trapping the rogue fastening beneath his foot. “Never fear, brother...I have a plan.” he murmured, looking at Sam. “Actually, if I may be so bold...I would ask a favour of you, Wilson.” Sam rolled his eyes, beckoning Loki into the corridor as the blonde god’s eyes widened. “Brother?” he hissed as Loki walked down the hall towards the kitchens. “Brother...m-my appendage!?”

---- Darkness had fallen as you made your way towards Loki’s rooms. Maybe for the last time, you thought; quickly pushing the intrusion to the side. You remembered the first experience of tiptoeing along the winding corridors of the Tower, anxiously peering around every corner on the way to his ‘chambers’. Now, every sound was familiar. Every warning creak of the elevator an old friend as you avoided suspicion. If you were honest, it all seemed like a moot point now.

The door was ajar by a crack, a soft flickering of light emanating beyond the frame. You slipped inside, turning quickly and pressing it closed with a soft click. A hand flew to the door over your shoulder, spread fingers rising from an armoured sleeve. You felt his presence at your back, dominant energy radiating from cold metal across the narrow space; his measured breaths rising and falling. The scent of ancient leather filled your nostrils, as rich and powerful as the man they belonged to.

“What’s this? A mortal? Entering the wolf’s den alone?” The dark tone of his voice sent shivers down your spine, a cold tingle racing over your body as you felt a cool breeze roll around your thighs. Jeans and a t-shirt had been replaced by a dark, shimmering green gown. Your fingers ran through a fold in the fabric, as soft as fine velvet. Heavy footsteps retreated, his stare burning a hole through the exposed back of your dress. There was a heat in the room you hadn’t felt before. A feeling of space. A feeling of… “Turn.” You complied, gasping in wonder as ancient stone brickworks came into view. Loki’s familiar living room had transformed into an Asgardian suite, sprawling low backed furniture sitting atop the rough marbled floor. A raging fire burned on a hearth, placed inexplicably where his bookcases usually sat. The flames spat embers which floated in the air, drawn towards their master standing to its side. You met his darkened eyes like a stranger. The cruel smile curling at his lips making another shiver throb inside your body, lower this time. Much lower. Loki’s Asgardian armour was not unfamiliar to you, but his expression was. It changed everything about him. The way the firelight made the metal flash, mirrors dancing on his high cheekbones, raven hair slicked back behind his ears. Straight. Harsh. Accentuating every sharp line of his face as he stared you down, hands clasped behind his straight back as he flexed his jaw. “You know why you are here, girl?” “To please me” he continued matter-of-factly, titling his head. His voice was deep, saturated with boundless condescension. “Do you think you are worthy of pleasing a Prince?” “Yes, Loki.” you murmured, not knowing where to look. You felt your eyes roaming over his broad frame. The layers on layers of leather stretched across his perfect body, the overcoat swirling around his calves as he began to take slow strides towards you in those sinfully authoritative boots. His fingers shot out like a whip, snapping to the underneath of your chin and tilting it upwards. He looked down on you with haughty consideration, his eyes narrowing. “A girl hasn’t earned the right to address me as such. Until I deign it so, you shall refer to me as your Prince. Understood?” You nodded again. The gusset of the unfamiliar lingerie he had wrapped around your body during his transformation was flooding with arousal.You had expected him to channel his gravitas to a certain extent during the game, but at this rate you didn’t think you would last the night. With what you had planned for tomorrow, perhaps that would be preferable. “I need to be certain that you understand who’s in charge” he enunciated, circling around you. Sizing you up. “Pretty little thing, aren’t you?” Loki sneered, running a finger down the naked skin of your arm.

You shivered, the mean edge in his voice making you doubt yourself. Your breath was tight, shallow breaths rising and falling, your eyes fixed on the leather strap wrapped tight across his chest. “Never fear, pretty thing. I shall not harm you” he murmured, leaning in and inhaling deeply against the tip of your cheekbone. “I am hedonistic, not wasteful.”

Your thighs squeezed together beneath the flowing skirt of your gown, pussy clenching as you fought the urge to throw yourself against him in unbridled lust. You cleared your throat softly, tentatively raising your chin to meet his burning gaze. “What does my Prince ask of me?” you murmured, seeing his eyes narrow for a split second before a tepid smile flickered at the corners of his mouth. “To do what your told.” His voice was laced with coldness as he backed towards the low built chaise, thick leathers creaking as he lowered himself; thighs spread. “Do you think can manage that?” he hummed mockingly, deeper than the Mariana trench. His sexually apocalyptic performance was laden with the haughty eroticism you had fantasised so long about. Your knees began to feel weak as the warmth of the fire buffeted against the simmering heat beneath your skin. You nodded. Loki raised two fingers and beckoned you lazily, features dancing with amusement as you hurried towards him and stood awaiting your command. “Dress...” he muttered, leaning back. One of his forearms draped leisurely against his open thigh, the fingers of his other hand caressing his lips thoughtfully. He watched like a predator as the straps of your green gown slid down your arms, the bodice edged south by your quivering hands. It slid over your hips before you let the fabric fall to the ground around your bare feet. “Beautiful.” he whispered above the crackling of the fire. "Turn" he purred, circling his forefinger in the air. Loki admired the way the flickering flames danced seductively across your naked skin, shimmering against the exquisite emerald green lingerie that hugged your cleavage. The matching silk panties clung to your hips, the familiar scent of your desperate arousal filling his nostrils as his hips thrust gently beneath the leather. “Well?” Loki’s eyebrow cocked, his superiority seeping through the air as his tongue held on to the final note of his mocking overture. “Kneel, girl. Have you never been in the presence of royalty before?” You smiled despite yourself, sinking to your knees and resting back on your heels. Head lowered. “Good” he hummed, drawing his hand away from his lips. They glowed, a familiar pair of leather handcuffs appearing dangled from his finger. Your breath hitched, running your widened eyes over the imposing figure looming above you, his winged shoulders impossibly wide. The sole of his heavy boot scuffed across the rough cut tile as he re-adjusted his position, leaning forward with one forearm balanced on his thigh. “Wrists.” You stretched your arms forward, the patches of thin skin pressed together. Loki slipped the leather cuffs easily over your delicate hands, tightening the cord with a swift tug. His fingers brushed over your forearms, lingering a second too long to be anything less than loving. He sat back, the solemn expression he wore so regally settling back over his angular features. “Pleasure yourself” he said, the syllables dripping from his tongue making your ass tighten. Loki’s eyes glinted with mischief as he watched you squirm against the ties. You slid your thighs wider on the floor, leaning back on the soles of your feet as your tried to reach the centre of your desire. Fingers grasped for purchase on your slick pussy, the tips brushing maddeningly against your hood, whimpers snaking from your throat as you reluctantly accepted the futility of your position. He sat smugly above you. He knows I need him, you thought. The strength of his fingers. The pressure of his tongue. The force of his cock. “So undignified.” Loki chuckled, “Are you having some trouble, pet?” He leant forward, the glint in his focused eyes glowing brighter.

“I thought you said you would do what you’re told. That you would listen. I never said anything about touching yourself.”

He pushed a foot forward, the solid expanse of his leather boots looking incredibly inviting as you raised your eyes to meet his. He gave a silent nod of acknowledgment, dimples flashing as he tried to contain a smirk. You raised your hips, shuffling forward several inches. Your breasts pressed against his leather-wrapped knee, feeling the firm surface nudge into your soft flesh. The curves of your bosom heaved upwards at the motion, a needy whine crossing your lips as you lowered your aching pussy atop his waiting boot. It was softer than you expected, the ancient skin smooth beneath the sliding wetness as you rubbed your core against the curve of his ankle. The space only allowed for your elbows to be bent, hands intertwined in prayer above bound wrists. They brushed against his knee with every soft thrust, smearing your arousal on the cold material below. The raw energy of Loki’s piercing stare was penetrating. His eyes never left yours as your lips parted; brow furrowing as you took your pleasure under his command. Under his control. “Does that feel good, pretty thing?” he muttered, as your eyelids fluttered shut. You moaned in response, every tug of the leather against your clit a wave of bliss.

“Would you release yourself over my boots? Pathetic.” He sneered, his voice enflamed; the condescension making you whimper as your head fell back. You inhaled sharply as he pressed his foot upwards, the flat top of the shoe cramming devastatingly against your desperate centre. “L-Loki…” you stuttered, dangling on the precipice of orgasm as you squeezed your eyes shut, realising your mistake. You felt his leg tense against your chest.

“-MyP-Prince.” you corrected with a gasp, hearing him growl as he pressed the flat of his boot harder against your delicate cunt.

“Enough.” he murmured, withdrawing the shoe with a scrape along the stone. You whined at the loss of contact, your throbbing pussy gyrating against air as you fought for relief. “So wilful” he tsk’d. “If you wish for your Prince to be merciful, you must do better.” A cruel smile twitched at the corner of his mouth. “Wait for me in my bedchamber.” he enunciated solemnly. You waited for what felt like an hour. Loki’s illusion had removed any trace of modern life, the clock that normally hung on the wall replaced by a solitary burning torch. His bed had transformed too, the familiar setup gone. A tall four poster had replaced it, a canopy of rich ebony hanging above your head as you knelt in the centre of the soft mattress, knees sinking into the sheets. Visions of what Loki had planned raced through your mind. He knew what he was doing, making you wait. Finally, you heard the steady pace of his boots crossing the stone, the long shadow of his armoured form crossing the boundary of his bedchamber before he came into view. He didn’t look at you, staring straight ahead before standing at the foot of the bed, gaze raising slowly to meet yours. His cheekbones flashed in the low light, fingers flexing by the sides of his long overcoat as he took a sharp intake of breath. “It seems I overestimated your ability to follow instructions.” he said, the measured words making you clench. He tilted his head, the eroticism of his arrogance seeping through the space between you. “If you will not adequately follow the instruction of a Prince, perhaps you will follow the commands of a god.” You shivered, the hairs on your arms standing erect. “Rise.” he commanded. You drew up to the full height allowed by your kneeling position, stomach fluttering with anticipation as a silk rope appeared, looping around the bedpost closest to Loki.

He leant forward, a palm beckoning towards you casually. In a flash your cuffs were tied to the short rope through a small metal hoop. The god held one end of the rope in his hand, giving it a sharp tug. You fell forward towards the bedpost at the swift motion of his fist pulling the tie, catching yourself as he chuckled darkly. You drew yourself towards the cool, thick wood; palms grasping at the smooth mahogany. Loki drew the cord tight, yanking it down as you hissed at the smart of the leather against your wrists. Your forearms pressed tight against your breasts, melding yourself to the bedpost as he leveraged you into a satisfactory position. You barely had time to adjust before the flat of his palm met your ass with a hard smack. You yelped, cheek sliding against the polished wood. “Who do you serve?” he muttered, watching as your eyes ran up his imposing form; his hand poised to deliver another blow. “You my Prince,m-my god.” you whispered shakily, as he nodded thoughtfully. His finger trailed lightly down your spine, making you shiver. The metal of his wrist-guards ghosted the curve of your ass, the sharp coldness making you clench. “Do you seek my godly mercy, pet?” he murmured. “Not y-yet.” you choked, begging him to tuck his wandering hand between your legs. “Correct answer.” he sneered, before bringing his palm down with a slap against your willing flesh once more.

You moaned against the bedpost, tears forming in the corner of your eyes as you processed the after-shocks of warming pleasure tingling on your skin. “Look at you, presenting yourself for me like a common slut” he chortled, smoothing his palm across your ass as you pushed it out involuntarily towards his touch. His fingers toyed at the waistband of your silk panties, before pulling them aside with a hard yank. The fabric yeilded with a loud rip, fluttering across the bed. You trembled as his fingers danced closer to your entrance, sliding gently over the wetness coating your inner thighs. “So ready to pleasure me. To please me, aren’t you?” he purred knowingly. He didn’t wait for a response. Loki’s fingers slid easily between your folds, reaching upwards to trace over your soaking clit. You groaned against the hands clasped around the post, keening into his teasing touch. “Do you wish a god’s touch to satisfy you, love?” he murmured gently, the facade of his theatrics momentarily slipping. “Do you wish for your deity to deliver you from this torment you find yourself in?” “I am a-at your service, fuck...whatever you wish..my god..ahhhh.” The words broke between staggered pants, the slow rub of his fingers against your clit making you dizzy. You tried to manoeuvre his digits to your entrance, desperate to feel them fill you. “I want you to use me, my Prince.” you grunted against the back of your hand, eyes flickering the side to catch him pursing his lips. Fuck he was so handsome. So intensely powerful. That leather. Loki’s dark hair was brushed behind his ears, resting on his armoured shoulders as he tilted his chin upwards in haughty contemplation. A warrior-god on the eve of battle. He smirked, fingers withdrawing from your pussy as you groaned with disappointment. “Please…” you murmured pathetically, as he bit his lip.

His wet digits made their way to the buckle of his chest strap, deftly unfastening it with a flourish. Your arousal on his fingertips left smearing marks on the metal as he shrugged the overcoat from his shoulders, falling to the stone below with a heavy thud. A breath hitched in your throat as he kicked off the heavy boots, watching the flex of his thigh muscles through the tight leather of his trousers. Loki's chiselled stomach strained against the perfectly fitted tunic as he crawled on top of the bed.

You slid your bound hands up the bedpost, the thin silk rope attached rising at will. They stretched above your head as Loki’s large palms cupped your breasts from behind, his mouth fastening between your shoulder-blades. A knee nudged your thighs wider. “My god…” you groaned, hanging your head between your biceps as he knelt behind you, rubbing his leather-clad groin against your ass. You felt his proud erection tight against your skin. Hard. “Yes, my pretty thing?” His hot breath in your ear made you jolt against him, whimpers falling from your quivering lips as you rubbed desperately. “Please, L-my Prince…” you keened, “my god, my..- please, I..” He shushed you gently, running his large palms down the curve of your waist. You heard a rustle of leather ties being unwound, a low gasp from his lips as he grasped his engorged cock in a fist. Loki’s leather tunic pressed flush against your back as he guided his length between your legs. He raised himself upwards, the horizontal column of flesh pressing tight against your slit. You moaned loudly, relief so close and yet so out of reach. He chuckled against your hair as his mighty cock teased through your folds, sliding back and forth with devastating precision over your throbbing clit.

“So impatient.” he hummed, “I am a merciful god, remember? All I require from you is patience.” One final withdraw between your lips and he thrust upwards; filling you to the hilt. You cried out, bracing against the bedpost as his hands bore down on your hips. “Fuckkk…” he growled, pulling you back on to his waiting cock. It hit the back of your channel, walls screaming with pleasure as every nerve fired like crackling magnesium. The leather clinging to his thighs smacked against yours, his tunic sticking to the sheen of sweat gathering on your back as he took your bound form without mercy. A hand slid down your stomach, his long fingers massaging your clit as you pressed back on his manhood.

“Do not come. Do you hear me?” he grunted darkly between the slap of his skin on your ass. You whimpered into your arm as Loki leant forward, sucking a bruising kiss to the side of your neck. He had never done that before, it had always been somewhere easily hidden. Easy to explain away if seen. His teeth grazed the soft skin as he applied more pressure, a primal groan sinking in his throat as he fucked you against the wooden bedpost. “Tell me what I will do, if they challenge me. If they try to take what is mine.” he growled, withdrawing his cock slowly as his deep voice rolled around the room like smoke in the flickering lamplight. “Burn their cities” you gasped, as he rocked the wide tip of his pulsing cock at your entrance. He hummed approval, entering the first inch of his length with agonising precision. You groaned as he did it, the fires of anticipation making you clench as he worked your clit beneath his fingers. “Make them feel your...y-your…” You tried to slide greedily back on his cock, your ass meeting a swift, harsh strike of his free hand. “Rage.” he said, calmly; enjoying the whimper from your lips as you pressed against the bedpost.

He leant forward, the leather of his tunic pressing hot against your naked skin as he whispered in your ear. “What else?” “C-chaos. Fuckkk...God...uhhh.,, I-in-insanity” you pleaded, as he massaged your reddened cheek. He hummed again, inching his cock deeper with a low chuckle.

“Flames. Rage. Chaos. Do you like the sound of that little thing? Is that what you feel right now as I fuck you like trapped prey? ” He bit down hard on your shoulder, the sharp edges of his perfect teeth making you yelp as he bottomed out. The cord holding your bound wrists tightened, the leather of the cuffs tugging at the thin skin.

“Answer me.” he growled, vibrating his finger against your swollen bundle of nerves. “Yes...m-my Prince” you gasped, blood rushing to your core as you felt orgasm approaching. “My g-god..L-my Prince I can't-..” Loki panted in your ear as he felt your walls begin to contract. “Yes, you like the sound of that don’t you. Standing by my side as I burn the world for you, and only you.” He groaned, thrusting so deep that you thought you would break with every curve of his hips. Loki’s free hand travelled up your arms, covering your bound ones with his. “You are loyal to me, yes?” he growled as his moans of pleasure grew louder. The god humped against your back, pushing upwards primally as the fronts of his leather trousers caught against your damp thighs. “Only you...only- ahhhh, fuck...you, my Prince, my god, my ev-everything my-” “Say my name.” he commanded darkly, sinking another bruising bite below the first into your neck. “Lokiii” you moaned, resting your head back against his shoulder, his name like a deep breath after being held underwater. “Say it louder.” he gasped, his thrusts becoming erratic as the god's fingers pulsed out of time on your clit. You complied, the wanton syllables of his name filling the air as he groaned against your skin. “Min elskling..." he purred darkly, drawing you back on his kneeling lap, “J-jeg vil ødelegge...uhhhh-gods...dem alle." His mysterious words hung in the air as he rolled you closer to the precipice of orgasm with every lilting wave of his hips. “Loki...please, let me cum. Please…” you begged as he palmed your breast, pressing you against the leather of his chest. He chuckled, widening his thighs so that you slipped further onto his cock with a pathetic groan. His fingers rubbed your clit gently, playing with your rising bliss for as long as he could. “Scream my name when you cum for me, won't you darling?” he cooed goadingly, toying with you. It was not a request. “Perhaps then, I shall release you.” His name thundered from your throat as you let the coil that had been tightening since you first saw him in his Asgardian finery fly. It snapped; the excruciating pleasure rolling from your pussy like syrup, coating every inch of your skin with sticky ecstasy that fizzed and shivered under his touch. Your back arched against his chest, arms straightening as you pulled back against the ties.

Loki pulled you tight to his chest, burying his thick length to the hilt as he spurted inside you with a deep, wordless moan of guttural lust. All his deepest desires, his anger, his unbridled passion, his love; all unloaded as his hips juddered against your ass, filling you with his seed. Filling you with him. The rope attaching your cuffs to the bedpost disintegrated, making your arms fall to your lap.

Loki’s cheek pressed against yours, carefully releasing you from the binds. “My love…” he whispered against your cheek, making you smile as you pushed through the haze of your ebbing climax. He flipped you softly to lie back on the bed, the leathers clinging to his body melting to reveal the taunt perfection of his alabaster skin. Low flames from the torches illuminated his flawless bone structure. You drank it in as he combed a hand through his hair before lying on his side, lazily trailing his fingers between your breasts as you bathed in the moment together.

“Can I kiss you now, my Prince?” you murmured coyly, watching his lips twitch with a smile. He leant over your body, the muscles of his arms flexing as he encased you beneath him. Loki’s ‘theatrical-side’ had been sated. His mindset for tomorrow, prepared. “I will allow it” he murmured sarcastically, nuzzling his nose against yours before slipping his tongue between your parted lips. He waxed into you, the firm body moulding to your curves as the illusions around you fizzled away, the familiar furnishings returning.

“Is everything ready? For tomorrow?” you whispered, pushing a strand of his dampened hair behind his ear. Loki nodded solomnly, before placing a line of wet kisses down your chest towards your widening thighs. - Norwegian: Min elskling, jeg vil ødelegge dem alle - My darling, I will destroy them all. 😳

Tags @lady-rose-moon @mochie85 @gigglingtigger @aenvstelam @holymultiplefandomsbatman @muddyorbs @xorpsbane @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @loopsisloops @dustychinchilla74 @thedistractedagglomeration @loveroflokiforpoeticjustice @123forgottherest @holdmytesseract @joyful-enchantress @sititran @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @mrsbarnes32557038 @michelleleewise @vbecker10@imalovernotahater @lokiprompts @thomase1 @morriggannlostinfandoms @ladylovesloki @marygoddessofmischief @ravenwings73 @filthyhiddles @peacefulpianist @maple-seed @yelkmelk @wheredafandomat @mistress-ofmagic @five-miles-over @goblingirlsarah @ozymdias @peaches1958 @your-taste-on-my-lips @stupidthoughtsinwriting @lokisgirll @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @123forgottherest @soldeloki

[copperbadge]

If its not too personal could you talk about what was the inspiration for Michaelis? He's got a lot of depth to him, especially for what could have been a one off character in the background after Fete. Also the way he mourns but carries on really resonates with me in Jes.

Oh sure! I mean, on the one hand it is quite personal but it's a kind of personal I really enjoy sharing. :D Michaelis began life as the Standard Hallmark Parent -- you see them a lot in the movies, the parent who is

1. Kinda grouchy

2. Usually pushing their kid slightly too hard in slightly the wrong direction (with the best of intentions)

3. Often a widow/er

4. Practically a cameo designed to stress out the lead, but easily attractive enough that they could be romantic lead themselves in the sequel.

There are actually several Hallmark films where the over-sixty characters are either the supporting romance in a one-off film or the main romance of a sequel film. (The Wedding Veil films, which despite their flaws are actually very enjoyable, have a Michaelis-like character for the mother of the male lead in the first movie, and she then becomes the major supporting romantic lead in the fourth movie.)

By the time I got to Michaelis talking to Eddie at the end of the script for Fete, I'd grown to really like him. When I adapted the script to a novel, I liked him even more. I thought that I could do a sequel with him getting jolted out of himself a bit -- and I was encouraged by how many people liked him in the initial read through. The main inspirations for the actual plot of Infinite Jes were, one, Gregory jokingly suggesting he do a podcast, and two, Michaelis's defensive dismissal of Gregory's question about what he's done for companionship since Miranda passed.

Over the course of writing Infinite Jes, he came to be a collection of themes I've explored or wanted to explore, sometimes themes I knew I wasn't skilled enough to handle yet. The core of him is based on a professor I worked with as a student; the confidence that occasionally tips into arrogance, the keen intellect that likes to take things apart, the ability to look at some toxic family traits and decide "RIP but I'm different" and be a present, nurturing masculine figure, all come from that professor, who had a huge impact on me.

But I have also been fascinated for decades now by a certain kind of character in fiction, someone who has had a devastating loss and keeps going, even if they aren't driven by something like revenge. Profound grief is difficult and fascinating for me, and I finally felt capable of exploring that fully, perhaps because the pressure on romance novels is a bit lower at times.

And honestly, a lot of him is me, processing the fact that I am aging in fandom. I'm older (44) than the oldest person I knew in fandom (38) when I joined it at the age of 14. I have, for lack of a better word, a position in fandom, a status, that affords me certain perks and requires of me certain obligations. Not to call myself elected king of fandom ("I didn't vote for him!") but the duty I feel to fandom, both as a culture that raised me and a found family, is very similar.

Most of my characters contain some of me, but Michaelis and Jerry contain far more of me than most, perhaps because I'm in a place to do some reflection. Michaelis -- intelligent, experienced, hopefully a mentor, but also lonely and detached at times -- is who I'm coming to grips with being; Jerry, the charming fuckup with power but no real clue how to use it, who is doing his best to grow up a little later than a lot of his peers and figure out how disability fits into his identity, is who I still see myself as.

So yeah -- I find Michaelis incredibly fun and compelling to write for, and I think that's because I had hit a skill level in my work where I could combine a lot of tropes and themes into one character and use him to explore why I enjoy them so much. But he definitely began life as the Hallmark Widowed Dad. :D Well, there are worse origin stories.

[nso-csi]

240821 Snippets from NME interview

Taemin on new beginnings: “I’ve always been the kind of person who takes on challenges”

In ‘Deja Vu’, one of the two album cuts from ‘Eternal’ that Taemin had a hand in writing, he uses the analogy of a figure bouncing between wormholes and being spat out across the timeline of his own life, mashing his past, present and future together. It’s a poignant reference to the moment he finds himself in right now in the wake of the biggest decision of his solo career. “For any person who is safe and stable inside a fence, they’re bound to find themselves lagging in terms of [their own] growth and development,” he says about the choice to move to Big Planet Made, which, founded in 2021, is far more in its infancy than a behemoth like SM Entertainment. “Our youth is finite. Since it’s not infinite, in order to challenge yourself and learn, I realised I needed to step out into the world.” “Like when you’ve been living with your family and move out once you’re an adult. I think that was the trigger for me [to move to a new company],” he adds. “I mean, I could have just stayed comfortably inside that fence, but I’ve always been the kind of person who takes on challenges.”

Careful to speak on his own experience, Taemin explains the thought process behind his choice to venture out and expand his horizons at this pivotal stage of his career. “I’m sure there are a lot of other celebrities before me who might have made similar choices, but personally that’s not what influenced me much,” he tells NME. “I never compared [myself to others]. I simply wanted to discover and explore my own path.” “Among the big companies, there are those that have very distinct characteristics, right? Like YG or SM or JYP. In Korea, these companies already have a distinct style of music or certain image, which is good, but for me, that is something that the artist doesn’t own – it’s the company that is the main agent. It’s like you are becoming an artist who follows the path set by the company,” he says. “Honestly, if I were to continue doing [the company’s music] for a long time, they set a high value on youth – beauty is extremely important. I’m not saying this in a bad way, but if I think about my future when I’m in my 30s and my 40s, would it be of any importance [to me]? I certainly don’t think so. I realised that I’ll need to pave my own path moving forward. And now is the time when I can try taking on that kind of challenge.”

“I recently finished listening to my first mini-album, just recently,” he says, reflecting on his 2014 solo debut record ‘Ace’, which just turned 10. “And I was thinking, ‘My voice sounded like this’, ‘I adjusted the lyrics to that’ and ‘The recording was so tough that I had to record it so many times’. I was reminded of those moments. I never would’ve been able to envision myself [where I am now], to this extent.”” “I think I’ve become a lot more relaxed,” he adds about how his approach to his work has changed. “How do I say this? I’m certainly more set in my mind about what path I need to take. When I was younger, I had just been sincerely working hard at everything, and if you could say I was a little confused about which path I wanted to pursue then, now I’m a lot more certain.”

[sitp-recs]

do you know of any dom/sub fics but that are not really pron centered. like they can be explicit but still be mostly about that dom/sub undertone dynamic.. I’ve read all omegaverse drarry fics in the market (ao3) and honestly i’m in love with that dynamic

Hi anon! Ahh yes I don’t usually go for hardcore BDSM but am very much here for Dom/sub undertones in fics that explore those dynamics in a more organic, subdued way. I really love it when the sex is just a way to get a deeper look into the characters’ psyche. I think these fics do a great job, I’ve also heard great things about Freedom to Be by Quicksilvermaid it might be a good fit - ty @vmcgmidlifecrisis for the rec!

Student Digs by Lokifan (E, 4k)

Harry’s living in *student accommodation*. Just the phrase makes Draco shudder.

Lucid by @dracoladon (E, 4.4k)

Harry's not sure what makes him harder; listening to Draco talk about astronomy, or shagging Draco so thoroughly that he can't talk at all. Both, probably.

Shining, Like A Present by @bixgirl1 (E, 13k)

The discovery of a small silver box at the site of a case opens up new possibilities.

Moneymaker by @dictacontrion (E, 16k)

As a top trader, Draco has power and money, suits and cars, houses and good champagne - everything a person could want. So when Auror Potter comes looking for help, Draco can't think of anything that might persuade him to lend a hand. Well...maybe one thing.

just tell me when it’s alright by @bonesliketambourines (E, 23k)

Harry’s been fighting tooth and nail for any bit of normalcy he can get his hands on. He’s sick of feeling like something’s wrong with him, tired of feeling different. He thinks he’s finally gotten to the root of it, and has settled into a routine that makes him happy. Naturally, that’s when Draco Malfoy walks back into his life and upends it once again. Has Harry bitten off more than he can chew with his former rival?

A Year in Training by Omi_Ohmy (M, 25k)

Harry is finally living his dream and training as an Auror, but nothing seems to be going right: he’s just so angry all the time. And Draco Malfoy’s presence on the programme really isn’t helping with that, either.

Inside Your Mind by @lazywonderlvnd (E, 36k)

Goyle's taken it upon himself to act as Malfoy's personal, one-man guard and Harry can't help but feel like it's only making the bullying worse.

The Destiny You Sold by tryslora (E, 59k)

In which Draco knits, Harry makes wands, and things get very tangled up between them.

Far From The Tree by aideomai (E, 112k)

The arrival of Harry Potter’s children—snapped back in time, the children themselves guessed, twenty or so years—was the most interesting thing to happen at Hogwarts for years.

A Sword Laid Aside by @korlaena (E, 128k)

When Draco’s cover is blown during a deep undercover operation and the Ministry is compromised, Ron takes Draco to the only safe place he can think of—Potter. Hiding out with a taciturn Harry Potter, who has been missing from the Wizarding World for almost two decades after a shocking fall from grace, is nothing like Draco thought it would be.

[cactusjuiceisquenchy]

I wanted to think about orv while I take a walk so some ramblings about reality vs fiction in orv under the cut!

I’m planning on doing a reread soon but one thing I was wondering about was when exactly did dokja stop bleeding blood, but stories?

It’s one of those background mysteries that never gets resolved, which is what is the line between reality and fiction in the orv universe. At what point did they stop being people and instead, characters.

In the beginning this was brought up significantly more often and I read the whole book through without a resolution. Because at first, Kim Dokja was checking everyone’s status all the time, just to make sure he couldn’t access the character profiles of yoo sangah and Lee gilyoung.

So when I look back, I can’t help but wonder who this designation is for and also what exactly it means. There’s no tangible difference between people who are characters and who aren’t and it honestly never really factors into the plot. At some point, dokja stops checking altogether and this distinction between reality and fiction is wholly forgotten.

And it’s not a status that remains fixed either. People who weren’t characters become characters when their memories of the meta text fade while Yoo joonghyuk at some point transcends character status by pure force of will.

I guess I just wish it was explored more. This categorization of character vs non character because it’s really interesting! I also thought something might happen with it, like the non character companions given a chance to exit the story or maybe it would come up once they reach the wall. Or have companions wondering who among kimco dokja regards as more real. But,, it doesn’t. It’s a moot point actually because everyone is treated narratively the same and dokja also treats them all as real. And so instead it slips into the background wholly forgotten. In the end the difference isn’t big enough to matter.

But the whole merging of worlds is so fascinating. Because unlike a normal isekai, reality IS the other world. With hindsight we are left wondering, if orv is a novel written about itself, was ANY of it fiction? Like, if a random webnovel on the internet ended up being a true account of the future, when that future becomes present— am I living in fiction? But then wouldn’t all the people dokja interacts with be characters? Or like, Yoo joonghyuk pre scenarios. The man seems to have spawned out of nothing but other characters don’t seem to have this problem. Or even the star stream itself existed before coming to earth. Were those characters living in a world of novel while dokja and Yoo sangah etc were in reality? What IS a character? What does that mean to the world of orv? In a world predicated on stories like ORV this question is so weird.

But I guess I will circle back to my original question now. When did Dokja stop bleeding blood and instead stories? I mean this more metaphorically then just when he became a constellation. At what point did he “become a character” to the extent that his physical body is made up of words rather than biology. And this goes for everyone! While character designation means less and less, their entrenchment in the story grows deeper until they are all wholly made of the story themselves. If dokja were to check everyone at the end of the story, what would he find I wonder?

Okay, I have finished my walk and only served to confuse myself! What are your thoughts, did this make any sense, should I do this again? Let me know!