#i'm approaching the item limit fast

[ihavethedreamies]

Oh, Baby-Girl | Bang Chan

Bang Chan - Stray Kids

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~5.5k

Pairing: Bang Chan x Tall!AFAB!Reader

Genre: Mafia AU!, Reader-Insert, Smut, Some Plot

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Mentions of Guns (Mob/Mafia type stuff), Bodyguard! Chan, Mob Boss Daughter! Reader, Swearing, Kissing, Oral (F! & M! Receiving), Deepthroating, Face-Fucking, Spanking, Daddy Kink (it is Bang Chan after all), Unprotected Sex (Not Recommended), Big Dick! Chan

Author's Note: Oh no, what is this? I couldn't have possibly wrote this since I am working so diligently on packing. Well, as long as it's here…

There is just something about the choreography for Chk Chk Boom that did something to me, I'm sure many of you agree.

P.S. If you haven't read my stuff before, or much of it, you might not notice, but the rest of you have probably figured out I got a bit of a face-fucking fascination. Thanks for getting to know me.

I am cross-posting this on Archive. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other site. Happy reading!

Being a mob boss’s wife isn’t nearly as fun and glamorous as the movies and shows (and TikTok) make it out to be. However, being the mob boss's daughter? A bit of a different story. You were protected from the violence and crime, but still got to reap the rewards. Fancy clothes, expensive jewelry, a nice car, and a bodyguard as well. Despite never being able to see him, you knew you were well protected as you walked down the streets of New York, spending all of your papa's corrupt money. A few designer shopping bags hung in the crook of your elbow over your cropped jacket, fur lining the ends of the sleeves and lapels. Faux of course, you might be the daughter of a criminal, but you weren't a monster. The thin heels of your over-the-knee (also faux) leather boots clicked on the sidewalk as you tapped away on your phone with your thumb. People moved out of your way as you walked, you just had the aura of 'fuck around and find out'. The gum in your mouth smacked as you chewed, sneering at a child who didn't move out of the way fast enough. Your eye roll was hidden behind your Versace sunglasses, but your down-turned lip covered in dark red lipstick was still obvious. Your stiletto acrylic nails were the same dark red and clicked against your phone as you scrolled through your search results. Despite how you looked and dressed, you still preferred to shop sales. That gave you more bang for your buck, since your father did limit your money some. As you passed an overly full trash can, you plucked the gum from your mouth and onto the pile. It had lost all its flavor… Approaching the next store, you were about to enter when you suddenly felt something instinctual rise up in you. You halted, people scurrying around you still, and with your natural height paired with six-inch pumps, you still stood a head above a lot of the passersby. You felt vulnerable for some reason and huffed in frustration, shoving the door open to the boutique you had stopped in front of. It wasn't your original destination, but you instantly felt safer being inside. It wasn't anywhere close to the first time your ingrained sense of danger had kicked in, and it wouldn't be the last. You know there was at least one bodyguard tailing you even if you never saw him, but that didn't mean the shelter of a store wasn't welcome.

"Welcome." One of the employees calling out snapped you out of your trance, having been looking out the window at the street. You turned and gave her a forced smile and removed your sunglasses. Deciding to look around while you were in the shop, you admired some of the items, but none of them were up to your standard, but that lingering feeling…lingered. Picking up a pair of shoes to look over, you looked out the window more, trying to see if you could pick out anyone lurking outside. Nope. Pressing your lips together, you sighed and moved to leave. Stepping back onto the street, you looked around again, trying to be subtle, almost like you were looking for a cab. Still not seeing anything that stuck out, you moved on and toward your actual destination. You were hit with an even greater sense of doom as you heard the screech of car tires in the distance and you spun around to see a black SUV hurdling down the street, unusually empty for New York. Like it was in slow motion, as the vehicle approached, the window rolled down and a gloved hand stuck out, a Glock in his hand.

"Shit!" You moved to duck behind a parked sedan, and you yelped when your heel snapped as you dove for cover. Your ankle twisted and your tights ripped, but you got behind the vehicle as you heard the gunshots. People around you screamed, and you scrambled to hit the emergency button on your phone, but… It was shattered. It must have hit the sidewalk harder than you did.

"Fuck!" You shoved the device into your purse, and you watched as people ran and screamed. Getting up just enough to peer through the blown-out window of the car you hid behind, your ankle protested, and you fell back down, catching yourself with your hand.

"Did you get her?" You heard a gruff voice shout followed by, "No!" Then, through the running pedestrians, a huge man appeared, a gun in his hand. He was right down the sidewalk, and you were right in view. Before you even had the chance to pray, a figure stepped between you and the assailant. You couldn't see since he was in your way, but you heard his gun go off and watched the goon fall from between the legs of your savior. He had to have been the bodyguard that your father told you was constantly at your tail. The man groaned and cursed, the same SUV coming to help haul him away, clutching as his knee. Sirens grew closer and you tried to get up, pushing on your scraped hand. You winced again, at least three of your nails on that hand were broken, a fourth cracked, and your heel was ruined. It would have been way too awkward to try and stand with just one pump, so you took off your other one.

"Here." The man who saved you had an accent, you couldn't quite place it in the moment. His leather-gloved hands grabbed your forearms and he more or less yanked you up. When you stood before him, he was…short. About an inch or two shorter than you…with your heels off. He was also really fucking hot. It was clear he was a bit shocked at the height difference as well since he had never been so close to you. Was he the guy always guarding you? You guessed it didn't matter if he was shorter if he was protecting you from afar. He shoved his pistol in the back of his pants, and you watched his white t-shirt struggle across his muscular chest as he did so.

"You okay, love?" Australian, it was definitely an Australian accent. And it was also really fucking hot.

"Y-Yes." You finally answered and you jerked to grab your bags, but he was grabbing them along with your purse before you could get close.

"Can you walk?" He nodded at your bare feet, and you stood on one of them, rolling your twisted ankle to test it. Putting weight back on it, "I can manage." He then started to lead you into the nearest alley as the police cruisers grew closer. At least you had stockings on as you meandered through the not exactly clean back alleys, and he finally brought you to another big black SUV parked behind some bakery.

"Here." He opened the passenger door, and you climbed in as he threw your bags in the back. You sat, shaking still as he climbed into the driver's seat.

"Sh-should I be up front?" Your voice was also shaking still, and he started the vehicle.

"The windows are tinted, but we'll be quick."

"Quick? Where are we going?" Your father's building was a good twenty minutes away, let alone the house on the outskirts of the city.

"Closest place is mine."

"Y-you are my bodyguard, right?" You just realized that even though he saved you, that didn't mean it was his job. The man huffed and wrangled his leather jacket off, tossing it in the back as well. The clean lines of your father's crest were tattooed into his bicep, and you slumped in the seat.

"What's your name?"

"Chan."

"Just Chan?"

"Yep." It seemed he had been waiting for you to buckle up, because he reached around you to grab the still unfastened belt, doing it for you. He smelled really fucking good too and your head swam. The spike of adrenaline seemed to get all parts of your body worked up, but you forced the wave of arousal down. It was not the time nor place for any of that. The ride to his place was quiet, thankfully, because if he talked more, you would be a goner. Trying not to be obvious, you would look to the side to stare at him. His side profile was immaculate, strong nose and jaw line, full lips.

"So…are you…?" You didn't know how to word your question without sounding rude.

"Korean." He knew where you were going, and you let out a small 'ah' of understanding. Your father didn't get along with the Yakuza nor the Chinese mafia, so Korean made sense. Korean-Australian at that…right?

"Australia?" You wanted to make sure, not great at picking out the different British-origin accents.

"Yep."

"Am I annoying you?" He sagged at your question and shook his head.

"No, love, just trying to keep an eye out." He pointedly looked in the rear-view mirror and you let out a quiet apology. The silence made since then.

"Put your sunglasses on." Chan nodded at the item in your hand, and you did so, pointedly looking out the window as he pulled up to the security gate of his building's parking garage. Getting in without any comments from the guard, he parked in what you assumed was his designated spot. The guard got out and opened your door for you, giving you his hand for assistance. You grunted when you landed wrong on your still upset angle and he caught you, making your chest press to his.

"S-sorry." You flinched back, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and he smiled gently.

"It's okay, Miss (Y/N)." Fuck, if you're already attracted to a guy with an accent, don't EVER let him say your name. As he was out of view to get your bags you mouthed an exaggerated 'oh my god' and quickly shut your mouth when he shut the back door. He led you toward the entrance door for the building, staying slow to accommodate your slight limp. Getting in the elevator, you still kept your sunglasses on just in case, though the building seemed pretty secure. That didn't mean the security watching the cameras were always completely trustworthy though. Enough money can convince most people of anything. You exhaled tiredly as you stopped by his door and Chan pressed the code into the number pad and it pinged. He held the front door open for you and you entered, hobbling down the entry hall. It was a nice place and you wondered how much your father paid him to watch you nearly 24/7. Or…

"So, are you my guard a lot?"

"During the day." So, yes.

"How long?"

"Hm…about three years."

"Ah." That was a pretty long time. So, he probably knew a lot about you, and you had never seen him before in your life.

"Oh! I need to call papa…" You rummaged through your purse that he had set on the coffee table. As you sat on the couch, you then remembered that your phone was broken.

"I'll handle it, love." Chan set your shopping bags and your shoes down as well and you had totally forgotten about your heels. When did he grab them too?

"I need to call a few others as well, if you want something to eat you can rummage through the kitchen." He nodded toward the other room behind where you sat and you nodded as he went down the other hallway, deeper into the apartment. You took the chance to look around and you wondered if he was ever there. Well, if he watched you all day for three years, he probably wasn't. The decoration was simple, almost like it was a hotel room rather than a living space, but it was nice. Maybe his bedroom was more personal? Hearing his muffled voice from further in, you stood and meandered to the kitchen like he suggested. Opening the fridge, there was more than you expected since the rest of the apartment was barren. Nothing stuck out though, but you noticed an object was in the oven despite it being off. You knew exactly what it was. Opening the oven, you grabbed the pizza box and opened it as your mouth watered. You weren't sure if the pizza was your favorite because you had it all the time (it was a front for your father's shenanigans) or if you genuinely liked it. Holding the day-old slice, you chewed absentmindedly, snooping through the rest of Chan's kitchen. He had a little wine display on the counter, and you pulled one of the bottles out to look at the label. You snorted, of course he had your family's vintage. Maybe he got a discount? At least you knew you liked it. Holding the slice in your mouth as you reached for a wine glass in the cupboard, you had to get on your tip toes to reach one. Could he normally reach them? There was dust on the glass, and you pondered if he ever used them.

"Sorry I don't use those glasses often." His voice startled you, but you kept a firm grip on the glass then set it down.

"That's fine… Do you just…drink from it?" You easily and expertly pulled the cork out with your bare hands since it was sticking out enough and he blinked at the ease with which you did so. Just because you were the daughter of a mob boss and didn't fight yourself, didn't mean you weren't strong. Your father made sure if it came to it, you could punch a guy's teeth out just as well as any bodyguard. That didn't help with guns, mind you.

"Uh, no," he huffed an airy laugh, it was actually kind of cute, "I just use a normal glass." He went to the cupboard next to the one you had been in and grabbed a square-shaped cup that looked like it was more for whiskey than wine.

"Are you doing okay, love?" He leaned against the counter as you poured yourself a glass after giving him some.

"I guess. My ankle kind of hurts still." You easily balanced on one leg, lifting the other foot to roll the joint around, testing its pain level.

"Just because I've never met you face to face doesn't mean I don't know you. Are you okay?" He pressed and you flinched to look at him. It wasn't…creepy perse, just, odd. You sighed, taking a sip, your hand still shaking a bit.

"Y-yeah. I mean, I've been around guns and stuff, but… I myself have never been shot at, you know?"

"I do, actually." He smiled cheekily and you sighed in mock annoyance.

"Well, it’s a little unfair that you seem to know me so well and I have no knowledge of you." You walked around the island and back toward the living room, sitting in relief on the couch. You crossed your leg over the other, injured ankle dangling in the air. Chan sat down next to you, leg up on the cushion so he could face you, toned arm resting on the back of the sofa. You felt his eyes linger on your tight-clad legs, your leather short-shorts showing most of your thighs. His gaze stopped at the tear in the supposedly tear-proof pantyhose, then snapped his head up like he just got startled awake. The man knew you knew he was ogling your legs and the tips of ears turned red as he cleared his throat. How was such a handsome man so cute?

"What do you want to know?"

"How did you get to be my bodyguard?"

"I had no mafia ties before. I guess that was a good thing. I was more or less scouted to be a bodyguard when I was a bouncer at some penthouse night club. It seems some of your dad's guys saw I was good, and I got offered way more money than any other job. They doubled it when I took the spot as your personal bodyguard."

"I see. Where did you learn to shoot so well?"

"I started at the shooting range when I was in college with my friends. I got better through work and your father made sure I was an expert before he put his baby girl's life in my hands."

"Hm, you obviously don't know me that well." You picked on a very small detail, wondering if he would know what it was.

"Hm, not his baby girl, his little kitten."

"Oh, maybe you do know me well then?"

"Quiz me, baby-girl." The way he said it was so different than two seconds prior. His tone deepened with it and a smug look settled casually on his face. You couldn't help but watch his throat move as he swallowed a sip of wine and you took a sip yourself, then set the glass down.

"What is my favorite color?"

"Red. Something else."

"Brand?"

"Prada. Something real (Y/N)." Chan leaned further into the cushion. You were right at eye level, and you wondered…

"Does it bother you I'm taller?" You changed the subject so fast he nearly got whiplash. You genuinely were curious. You were tall for a woman anyway, let alone when you did wear heels, and some guys didn't care for it.

"Height doesn't play into what matters, baby-girl." His slightly cryptic answer intrigued you, but you moved back to the previous topic.

"What's my favorite book and why?" He sighed, huffing a laugh at your shift back.

"You tell people it's 1984 because of the psychological implications behind it, but your favorite is actually Dragon Rider because it got you into fantasy. You read it eight times in elementary school, and you have a signed copy." Chan grinned at your bewildered expression. Once again, in any other situation that would be creepy as hell that he knew, but three years of observation would key him in.

"Okay, smart guy," you picked your glass back up, slinging your legs up under you on the couch, facing him.

"Why do I currently not have a boyfriend?" That was something you couldn't just say, it had to be observed.

"You hate romance. Flowers, chocolates, a fancy meal. You hate it, but because you like fancy clothes and jewelry, men think you lean that way. You'd prefer a movie date at home or going horseback riding." Shit, that was a little creepy. More so that he knew you so well, it was like he could see into your head, that kind of creepy. Not that he was a creep. Chan nearly cackled as he giggled at your bewildered expression, and you whined. Why was he that cute?

"Why are you that cute?" You accidentally spoke your thoughts aloud and you immediately froze, since he did too.

"I'm cute?" He managed to get out after you both sputtered for a few seconds.

"W-well, I mean-"

"I'm cute?" The simple inflection change completely shifted the meaning of his question.

"You think I'm cute?" You whispered and he set his own glass down, then took yours so he could do the same. He shifted down the cushion, so his knee touched yours. Chan leaned in and you clenched your jaw to remain strong. Don't kiss him, don't kiss him, don't kiss him.

"Baby-girl, if I didn't do you really think I would still be watching you ten hours a day, every day?" Oh. That was a good point. Chan crooked a brow, waiting for an answer or something, don't kiss him.

"You want to kiss me that bad?" he finally asked, and you jolted back, eyes leaving his mouth and shooting up to his eyes.

"What?! No?" Your voice cracked and he pressed his pretty lips together, so he didn't laugh at you.

"So, you don't want me to?"

"I never said that-" He caught you. Literally. You had tried to reel back so you could get off the couch, but his hand grabbed your wrist. It was gentle, but tight enough that he could yank you back to him, and he swallowed the squeak he pulled out of you. Your body melted, all the tension from the earlier attack as well as the sexual kind that had been quickly taking your body over, left. The kiss grew from a low heat to a full inferno rapidly. Your jacket was shed, then your necklaces and bracelets, and as his tongue crept into your mouth, you clawed at his shirt. Your fingers unevenly scratched at his skin through the fabric since about half of them were broken. You both panted when he pulled back. He slightly shoved you down so your back hit the cushion and he sat up more on his knees and you watched with glee as his shirt came off. Fucking hell, he was perfect.

"Oh my god." You gasped and his smug grin twitched briefly in bashfulness, but he composed himself.

"Let me see you, baby-girl." He easily held himself up over you as his body nestled above yours, his strong jean-clad thigh jammed between your mostly bare legs. He kissed you again as his fingers easily plucked the buttons of your shirt open and he pulled you up by the shirt. As you sat up, you yanked the shirt out of where it was tucked into your shorts and then tossed it away before falling back. The micro-fiber was a much nicer feeling than what could have been cold leather. You shivered when his calloused hands ran over the smooth and soft skin of your sides and tummy. His nose ran over your collar bone, and he nuzzled the swell of your breasts where they sat in your plain nude bra. If you knew you were going to get fucked that night, you would have worn something much sexier.

"Don't worry, it's coming off anyway." It was like he could read your mind and you yiped in shock as he unfastened the front latch so quickly it was like he did it telepathically.

"You wear them with a front latch because you can't reach around your back from when you hurt your shoulder in middle school." He really did know you well. You just blinked but then Chan forced a mewl from you as his strong thigh pressed hard into your covered mound.

"Focus, baby-girl." His voice had lowered even further, and it made you shiver. Strong hands gripped your ass over your shorts, pulling your hips to grind on his leg as his mouth met yours again. You whimpered through the kiss, goosebumps raising on your skin as the button of your shorts easily slipped open, the zipper was pulled down, and then your pants were soaring through the air somewhere you cared not.

"These are already torn…" He justified as he grabbed the hem of your pantyhose and easily ripped them to literal shreds. Chan let the remnants fall to the floor and you felt your slick through your panties against your bare thighs. At least your panties were a cute lacey purple and not just plain nude.

"You're absolutely stunning." He praised, hand running up your thigh so he could hitch it against his hip. Chan rolled his hips, and you squealed at the large bulge in his pants pressing to your barely covered cunt. If he felt that big through jeans, what the hell was he hiding? He chuckled where your hips jumped to get another brush of friction, reaching into his back pocket. As he pulled the foil package from his pants you snatched it from him.

"Planning this?" You tried to tease him, but his gaze darkened.

"Oh, baby-girl, I've wanted to fuck you for two years now." The man declared. You turned the packet over to look at the label, making a mental note at the size, then you looked at him coyly.

"You clean?"

"Yes?"

"Good." You tossed it behind your shoulder, then grabbed his belt loop, pulling him to you as you sat up. You smirked up at him, head tipped back so you could look him in the eye.

"Can you really feel me like you want through a rubber?" He swallowed hard, all that confidence from before seemingly to leave, then rushed back.

"Not even fucking close." He admitted, pushing you back down and starting to lay open mouth kisses against your neck. He sucked hard, his teeth nibbling the flesh and you shuddered with a delighted whine.

"We can put my pill to the test." You teased and he groaned, kissing down your chest. His mouth sealed over your nipple as he wrestled his jeans off and you exhaled in bliss as his fingers rubbed at your folds through the fabric still covering them.

"You care about these?" He snapped the hem of the undergarment. You did, but you really wanted to watch him tear them up more.

"Nope." You popped the 'p' and the lace ripped and joined your other items of clothing somewhere behind him. You yelped when his hands grabbed your waist and shoved you up the sectional, so he had room to lay on his stomach. Before you got the chance to prop yourself up on your elbows, his tongue ran up the folds of your pussy and his nose brushed your clit.

"Fuck!" You tossed your head back, body twitching as he decided to bury his tongue inside you. He groaned at your taste, hands roughly grabbing the backs of your thighs. He rolled you back, holding your legs apart and up as he mouthed at you like a man starved. Your little mewls and squeaks flew out between heaving breaths, and you felt his grip tighten, knowing he would leave bruises. When he let go of your left leg, he made sure you rested it on the back of the couch, and then his finger pressed into your twitching cunt.

"You’re drippin’." He chuckled, then added another finger and your whole body seized. Expertly, he crooked his fingers up, the ends pressing against your cervix and with a final lick to your clit, you came. He eagerly helped you ride out your high, then cleaned his fingers off with his tongue as you panted for air. Your forearm was slung over your eyes as you came back to earth, and you only moved your arm to watch as he removed his final garment. You hadn't even got a chance to look at him in just his boxers, but there he stood in absolute glory. His cock stood proud, arching up toward his toned stomach and you heaved yourself up so you could see him better.

"Oh~" You giggled, wrapping your fingers around his cock and he groaned at the feeling. You bit your lip, eyes meeting his giddily, then you swallowed the tip, whining at salt of his pre.

"(Y/N), baby-girl~" He tossed his head back as you took more of him into your mouth. He was thick, your jaw protesting a bit, and you still had a good few inches to go when the head hit the back of your throat. Your eyes flicked to his again, and you made sure to watch his face and you kept going, only gagging slightly as your nose pressed to his groin.

"Oh, fuck." He nearly whimpered, hands gripping your hair, then loosened his grip. He groaned as you bobbed your head, breath harshly moving through your nose as his cock filled and left your throat. His hips jumped and the sudden movement made you gag a bit harder, but it made your cunt clench as well.

"Shit, sorry!" He panicked, but you pulled off slowly, giving him your best boba eyes.

"Wanna keep going?" You hoped your intention was clear and he didn't even hesitate. The hands still in your hair pulled you back onto his cock and you sat like a good girl as the fat head of Chan's dick battered your throat. Your eyes rolled back, loving not just his rough movements, but the pretty noises leaving his mouth.

"Hm, you want me to cum down your throat, baby-girl?" Chan's hips jerked unevenly, and you could feel his dick pulse on your tongue. You hummed and nearly wiggled with glee as he pressed your nose hard against his lower stomach and painted your throat white. You eagerly swallowed each pump and drop, and he mumbled something about wondering why he waited so long to have you. Only half-softened, he pulled out of your mouth, and you licked the rest off his release of your lips. You didn't even get the chance to give him a smug grin before you were flipped over onto your stomach, and he heaved your hips up.

"Tell me if I do something wrong." His comment seemed odd, but it seemed he really did know you well. You gasped a moan as his hand smacked your ass, the skin stinging, and he could see your empty cunt clench around nothing.

"You want daddy's cock?" His thumb ran through the slick of your folds, and you trembled. There was a very specific reason you only called your father 'papa'. You only wished you had found Chan sooner to actually put it into practice.

"Fuck, yes, daddy!" You squealed in joy, hiccupping when his other hand slapped your other ass cheek.

"Get ready, then baby-girl." You were ready mentally, but your pussy wasn't. Your cunt burned as he buried his fat cock into you with one thrust. You reveled in the sting, craved it, and your already tight walls clenched around him hard. Even if he wasn't fucking you from behind, you were sure he was long enough to fill you completely, the tip nestled tight against your cervix.

"Fucking hell." You sighed, nails digging into the thick fabric of the couch. He let you get used to the stretch, but you just wanted him to move, you were even getting antsy.

"Move, please." Your wiggled were stopped with a hard spank. You yelped.

"Daddy, please." You corrected and he ran his thumb over the reddening skin.

"Sure thing, love." Your cunt tried desperately to keep his cock inside, and a few drops of your wet landed on the couch. Your breath left you when his hips snapped, fucking back into you hard and fast, his pace not letting you catch it back. He loved the little mewls and grunts he was literally fucking out of you. Your cheek was pressed to the cushion, drool already pooling from the corner of your mouth. He had waited too long to take you, he decided, and he was going to make up for the lost time.

"Ch-chan, fuck!" Your orgasm was cresting fast, a familiar burn rising with your orgasm. Spank!

"Fuck, daddy, I'm gonna-" Your breath shuddered as your orgasm hit and he slowed his pace some, grinding his cock into you as your pussy spasmed.

"Oh, baby-girl~!" He groaned as your cunt squirted even more slick onto his groin and balls, even both of your thighs. You slumped after what seemed like minutes and heaved for air, but he wasn't anywhere close to done. Your near scream as he started to pummel his hips against your ass again went straight to his head. He leaned over you, hands near your shoulders. Normally, he was used to leaning over a girl quite a bit, but his hands fell to the sides of your shoulders rather than your head, your body just as long as his, legs even longer. Despite the small height difference (in your favor), you felt small under him, he had broad shoulders and thick muscles, and an even thicker cock. The hard and deep thrusts turned shallow, his dick barely leaving your cunt but battering it at the same time, bringing you up to and over another orgasm fast.

"So deep, daddy~" You nearly cheered, and he found your weakness. He pressed his hips into yours, barely moving them and you gasped, a fourth orgasm already approaching. He felt your walls clench harder and you felt your pussy start to sting, but you needed to fall apart again. It was too much for him then, your raw heat and gummy walls begging him to pump you full.

"Gotta test that pill." He mumbled, then groaned as he finally fell over as well. The sticky heat of his cum filling you, so much it spurted out from around where your bodies met, pushed you over the edge as well. Your head swam from the force of your final orgasm, stars dotting your vision. As he panted for air over you, he watched your eyes flutter; you were wiped out.

"I'll let you sleep over, baby-girl. Gotta rest for when I fuck you stupid tomorrow morning."

Master-Master List

Stray Kids Master List

[claireelle18]

Sweetness in Life

A continuation of what @cellythefloshie started with her teacher x Brandon Hagel blurb/imagine. ————————————————————————

Not long after retiring to the couch from the long Friday school day, does her phone ping with a new notification.

Unknown number: “Hey gorgeous”. Confusion taking over her mind. Three dots appear underneath, disappear, then reappear. “It’s Brandon.”

It clicks. He texted. That was quick of him. She didn’t expect him to text her so fast, let alone at all. He was a hockey player and she was an elementary school teacher. The two talked late into the night, texting about everything that came to mind. Both laughing and smiling at their phone screens.

This had become the new pattern the two fell into for the coming weeks. He had to travel to finish off the last few weeks of games, while she prepared for the end of the school year.

The first phone call came after a rough game between the Detroit Red Wings and the Lightning. He was so upset about the game's outcome, he just needed to take his mind off of it all, and drifted towards her.

Only a few rings before a half awake answer came out of the speaker. "Oh um hi," she yawned out.

He grimaced, "Shit. I woke you up."

"No. No, you're fine, Bran." He started to relax a little. "What's up? I wasn't expecting your call."

"Honestly?" he questioned, following up with the explanation. "Honestly, I need the distraction. I wanted to hear your voice. Tonight's game really sucked, ya know? Thought that this was easier than texting." Texting turned into phone calls as time permitted for the couple. He looked forward to hearing her voice after games.

A blaring clock sound rung out, scaring her awake. She jumped for her phone, shutting the alarm off, when a soft snoring sound arose followed by grumbling. On the other end of the noise was Brandon. He woke up hearing the noise, confused as it did not sound like his set tone. "Good morning," a soft voice called out. "It seems like we stayed on the phone all night."

"Morning darling. I'm pretty sure you fell asleep and not long after I did too. But I did have you up until somewhere around 2 am I believe," he admits. In past phone calls, she had ended the call before falling asleep, or he would hang up if she had fallen asleep on the call. She politely ended the call not long after, but he already planned to make sure he brought her coffee later in the day.

The bag packed with lunch items weighed in his hands, along with balancing the tray with coffee in it, as he walked into he school office. Nancy, the front office lady, dialed her room. "Ms. M, you have a visitor." He was then escorted back to her room.

She turned a bright pink when she caught sight of him. A few of her students started 'ooo-ing' and put the puzzle pieces together. Students lined up to head to lunch, he walked with the class. "I hope you don't mind that I brought you lunch...and coffee. I thought maybe have a lunch date. I know you are working so time is limited."

"Actually this has been the best part of today, well minus waking up to hearing you," she flirted. "Thank you for doing that."

"I couldn't pass up the chance to bring you coffee. The least I can do after I kept you up so late last night."

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

She finally accepted his invite to come to one of the games. He promised that the other wives and girlfriends would love her, as she would be up in one of the boxes with them during the game. It only was a couple of weeks prior that the two actually became an item.

Francesca Maroon took to her the quickest, well besides the Stamkos boys. Little Carter was glued to her side as much as she’d allow him to be. No eyelashes we batted as the group of women and children took to the newbie. She had been accepted into this exclusive club. New friends, an exciting new relationship, what more could she ask for? Playoffs were approaching, a battle for the championship, Lord Stanley, which would have brought the couple under stress, but the two maintained their routine. Brandon surprised her again at school, with boxes of donuts for her students.

Even through all the madness of his season, he took time to celebrate the little moments. Her class scored the highest average and most growth within her grade level in the school on the end of year state testing. The sweet moments in life are what the young couple enjoyed the most.

The team didn’t make it past the first round of playoffs, which was disappointing to the men, but it did allow for a bit of slow down for the couple. Especially once the school year ended for her. “What about a vacation once we finish packing up your classroom? It can be a couple days to wherever,” he suggested. “Just some us time.” She agreed.

Days later the two found themselves on the tarmac of the tiny airport of the small tropic island. Salty air, the smell of coconuts and wafts of sweet rum blanketed the city. Their cells rarely used the trip, focusing on themselves. The sweet journey of life the two could enjoy without much interruption.

[hussyknee]

I'll never get over how much privilege the damn chicken shit shit shows and the fucking perspectives they give like. "It's just a chicken sandwich. If you can't live without it, you're not a true ally. It doesn't even taste that good!!! So you're just hurting people for a some basic chicken sandwitch!!!" I'm so glad you think everything has the ability to make decisions on what to eat like that, that there couldnt possible be any reason, that maybe thats all there is around some people. I'm disabled, I can not cook most of the time, and i can't pay for my own food most of the time and even when I can options are extremely limited because I'm dead broke and disabled. There is a demon chicken place near me and the salads are higher quality than the ones at McDonald's if they even carry salads anymore. So sorry for eating a dirty chicken sandwich when there are times I can't even buy an item I want when I AM paying because the abled person with me decided to be controlling. So sorry I buy the Demon chicken because it's what's on the way home that isn't the over priced local place with a thousand mile line. So sorry not everyone can fucking cook at home.

*hugs* I hate how many times that post came up on my dash. This is exactly the case with food franchise joints– it's a matter of access, especially for poor and disabled people. I'll never understand people who're like "yeah yeah no ethical consumption under capitalism EXCEPT for <cherry picked example of mass consumption>".

Ngl, "demon chicken" made me laugh. 😂

We don't have Chick-fil-A in my country, and fast food is an expensive treat for us, but I know that they're aimed at a lower earning, overworked class demographic in the West. I have a really difficult relationship with making food choices and feeding myself, especially when I'm in a flare or stressed out or really depressed and will live off literally anything that will deliver cheap enough or on my way home, which are not a lot of choices given that I live in Bumfuck, Suburbia.

But also like....why are these people singling Chick-fil-A and not Nestlé or Coca Cola or child slavery chocolate or Chiquita or or or. My country's main exports are tea, coffee, textiles and spices. Do y'all know how those workers are treated? Which multinationals send refuse back to dump in our country, so that our soil and water are poisoned and our people die from disease? Why is funding homophobic lobbies in the West worse than literally killing BIPOC (with death squads in Nestlé's case)? That's what I think about every single time I see those posts. That my people's deaths are unavoidable, but if everyone doesn't make an exception for this one brand or issue, then we're all --phobes and --ists who don't care. And what's special about that issue? It also impacts white people in the West. The minute white middle class folks are affected it becomes an international emergency.

And yeah, the BIPOC also affected can ride in on those coat tails, but they're not gonna benefit from white allyship. They'll be trotted out to buttress their talking points when it's convenient and then promptly forgotten about and left just as disenfranchised once the white middle class element get theirs. "But it affects me and I'm not white!" and yet they're the only reason you're able to choose guilting and shaming as your advocacy tactic. If guilting and shaming worked for Black, brown and working class people's issues we wouldn't have half our problems. The reason we don't choose that approach is because it has never in the history of activism worked. The reason it's specifically a white middle class tactic is that they're so used to the world bending down for them that they can't fathom that it won't once they're part of a marginalised group. That, and it does work– on people as or more vulnerable than they are. Shaming and guilting and ostracizing is about the illusion of power, not emancipation. Emancipation involves solidarity building, mutual aid, education and harm reduction. The current state of leftism in the West can be blamed directly on the fact that middle class whites found themselves sharing socio-economic oppressions with BIPOC (always overrepresented in the working class) and immediately pushed themselves to the forefront of every issue. And then Western BIPOC absorbed all that hyperindividualist neoliberalism and respectability politics.

Eat your fill of whatever food you can procure, friend. The demons aren't in the chicken. They're in the system that overworks and underpays people, guts disabled and social welfare, plan your cities so that all you can reach are chain stores, and prices out the rest of the competition. They're in the legislative system where it's legal to create and fund lobbies to take away human rights.

[hirocimacruiser]

How about a mini car with a midship and a gull wing door

Autozam AZ-1

by Mitsuhiro Kunisawa Komiya

IIt's a different dimension sport!

A cute AZ-1 popped out onto the street. What kind of car is the AZ-1, which has been boiled down since the motor show three years ago? This time, I immediately checked it on a public road test drive. This is the AZ-1!

Controllable cornering power

The AZ-1, which made its debut at the Tokyo Motor Show three years ago and received tremendous support along with the cherry blossom cappuccino of the same year, was finally announced as the AZ550). One year late for cappuccino!

Let's leave the explanations for later and take a test ride! I want you to think that the stage is the winding road of Hakone. The first check item is, after all, handling. First of all, instead of saying hello, I jumped into the corner with full throttle!

Then, how about it! When you release the accelerator with "Bang!" I was surprised, and at the same time, I was a little happy, saying, "Oh, I didn't escape from midship!"

After all, the comfort of a mid-engined car is that "when you turn the steering wheel, the direction of the car changes immediately." However, it is easy to exceed the sensitivity limit by doing so, so the response is usually dulled. Some cars, like the Beat, are running away from the start.

Let me explain a little more about the handling of the AZ-1. First of all, it is cornering within the limit, but it is straightforward from approach to exit. Lateral G occurs immediately when the steering wheel is turned. smoothly after.

The engine adopted for the mid is a water-cooled 3-cylinder DOHC turbo with an intercooler that squeezes out 64 horsepower.

There is enough space for a dedicated bag at the front. Well, it can fit tools and rags.

Sufficient in power. I need a little more torque for climbing, but if it's a 660cc, it might be something like this...

If you operate the steering wheel and turn on the power, you can throw in and fast out like a textbook. What if we speed it up? Understeer appears as you gradually increase the speed of entering the corner. However, this is a characteristic common to all midship cars.

Of course there is understeer, but that is not the limit yet. A well-set midship is the highlight of the Ude from here. Then, what should I do?

Use motion to increase cornering speed.

For example, when entering a corner, leave the brake slightly and shift the load to the front wheels while turning the steering wheel. By doing so, the grip of the front wheel is improved, and the underside is eliminated. At the same time, the rear is flowing, so the car changes direction.

So, if you apply a moderate amount of power to the rear that has started to flow, it will start to slide, so you can adjust the amount of flow with the accelerator control from here. If you use this according to the size of the corner, it will be a higher level corner.

The dimensions that a ring can be made. For beats, the progress of corners

The rear does not flow when entering. before that

Sloppy front wheel slipping out

It will flow to the top side. The reason why Beat escaped from handling is that midship setting is very difficult. Since the mid-engined car distributes more weight to the rear wheels than to the front wheels, if you overdo it in the corners, the rear wheels will eventually drift and you will lose control.

Even the NSX and Ferrari 348 become difficult to control when pushed to the limit. Honda knows this, so they made it impossible for the car to turn at a low level.

AZ-1 is good when you go there. At the entrance of the corner, if you turn the steering wheel with a “Hishitsu!”, the tail will flow easily. Moreover, the range of control is very wide.

The counter is a piece of cake. The NSX and Ferrari 348 do not accept the control when the tail drifts only a little. It can be said that the control range of AZ 1 is close to FR.

I can do it, but that level

I'm afraid without it. After all, while cornering on a downhill or something like that, when I hit the brakes with a feeling like, “Ah! If it's someone who can hit the counter, it's fine, but if it's an older brother who's practicing, I think it's a bit dangerous.

Moreover, as the speed increases, the suspension becomes softer. I have no worries up to 60km/h, which is the speed limit on mountain passes in Japan, but if you want to go beyond that, it might be better to go a little harder. Also, the roll is large. If the K car rolls to this extent, there is a possibility that it will fall over.

Well, if you enjoy gymkhana and circuit driving, you need to attach shocks that are commensurate with the hardness. Recently, it's been popular to do time attacks on kart circuits, but if you try to do something like the style of riding a hotch-running curb on a normal suspension, it's better to think that you'll fail first.

what about the engine? Magazines often say, "3-cylinder twin-cam turbo similar to cappuccino," but to be precise, it's a mistake. The 3-cylinder installed in the Cappuccino is vertically mounted and has undergone a large modification for FR. The AZ-1 is mid-shipped in the same state as the FF Alto Works,

It's a different engine than a cappuccino!

Well, the handling of the AZ-1 is really good, but sometimes it's not. If you have a certain amount of arm, you can freely hit the counter and run around.

The ring is also different from cappuccino.

The Cappuccino engine vibrates a lot below 2000 rpm, but the AZ-1 doesn't vibrate until near idling. In terms of engine characteristics, the AZ-1 has a higher rotation. Cappuccino emphasizes the low and medium speed range.

In any case, it seems that the power is sufficient, and if the tachometer needle is between 3000 and 7000 rpm, you can fully enjoy the thick torque unique to the turbo. Without limiter, surely 1

It will go around 80km/h. So how do I rate this car? As those of you who know me know, I have a beat and a cappuccino. Therefore, when it comes to comparison with the AZ-1, I think we are the most detailed in the world.

First of all, personally, I passed! It's narrow. Surprisingly, the beat has a lot of front-to-rear length, and even 183cm is fine. The cappuccino has both tilt and telescope.

The AZ-1 has a narrow front-to-rear length, which makes the legs cramped. In addition, if the handle is fixed, you can't help it. I'm sure there will be complaints after 175cm.

I don't think gull wing doors are more valuable than open bodies to me. The Benz 300SL may be a dream for the Yujiro Ishihara generation, who admired it, but it would be better if the roof could be taken off.

As such, the AZ-1 is unlikely to be a third collection, unfortunately. By the way, regarding the order status, unlike Beat and Cappuccino, which had to wait half a year before their debut, it has started as usual.

The tail can come out, but it feels like it's coming out slowly.

I really want to wear aluminum too. This price is ¥28,000(for one)

I would love to have the audio as well This is a woofer. Price 176,500 yen

★Manufacturer option, 4W-ABS (80,000 yen) ★Shop option LSD (79,000 yen)

COMPARISON BOX TRANSLATION

Where is the difference with rivals

This means that three 2-seater light sports cars have been released. Let's take a look at the difference between these three. First is the price. AZ-1 is 1.498 million yen, Beat is ¥1,388,000, and a cappuccino ¥1,458,000. AZ-1 is audio, no aluminum. The beat is aluminum-free. All cappuccinos are standard. If the AZ-1 were equipped with the same equipment as the Cappuccino, it would cost about 200,000 yen more. Simply considering the price, cappuccino comes out on top in terms of cost value.

However, the added value cannot be overlooked. The beat is fully open. Cappuccino is T bar, Targa open. AZ-1 is a gull wing door. Considering that opening is natural, AZ-1's gull wing door might be good. Quietness is also good for Danchi. Passengers can speak in a normal voice even on the highway. Beats can't even talk to Roku.

Full test in next issue

schedule. AZ-1 is cappuccino,

Hit the beat or catch up.

Please look forward to the next issue. (Editorial department)

[whump-cravings]

2. If you had to give up your keyboard and write your stories exclusively by hand, could you do it? If you already write everything by hand, a) are you a wizard and b) pen or pencil?

I used to write by hand almost exclusively! Sometimes I still write by hand but that's unusual. I think I deffo could and wild still do it. Tbh I write by keyboard just about as fast as I write by hand.

Right now I'm going through calligraphy/lettering/ink pen cursive phase so I'm gonna have to say pen. See my most recent handwriting below.

[id: a handwritten letter in black cursive letters, reading "Dear Niqala, // Please enjoy this Artisan Soap made by my friend Toma, a talented Wizard and equally talented Soapmaker. // Since my last letter I have been searching for a wondrous item that could potentially hold a message of voice the length of a letter, since most are limited to twenty-five words. It seems terribly impractical to change several "magic mouth" uses together and it would leave most spellcasters tapped. // We — my party, the "Unmentionables" — are once again tasked with a mission, though with any luck, it will be a fair bit less dangerous than previous ventures. as It will require a fair bit of stealth, which I can fairly say has never been my strongest suit, but my party members are confident in our approach, and I'm confident in them, despite certain recent frustrations. Perhaps by the time this message is read to you, we will already be safely returned home. // I may talk to Toma about establishing a teleportation circle in Othe. I should hate for anything to occur there and be unable to reach you except through six or more days of travel, and it would be nice to visit. // Always, // Your friend, // Shami Vakold" /end id]

[inkofamethyst]

July 26, 2023

Today I finished moving out of my apartment. Also my last day in a classroom in my undergraduate uni. The apartment thing actually feels weird. That room.. I mean it never quite felt like home, exactly. But it was my safe space on campus. For two years it was mine. And now it's not.

I.. I think there's a good chance I may stretch myself a little thin during my phd. Like, I discovered this thing at my uni where I could essentially get a minor alongside my Big Degree. And they have lots of really cool, interesting options (classics! medieval! archaeology! so many others!!) which I would totally consider if I was an undergrad but I'm getting close to the point where my luck may start to run out so it's probably a good idea for me to go for something more applied, right? I looked at compsci because that's the big button topic right now, but they also have data science which seems to be a bit more social-sciencey in its approach which I vibe with, and it could/would be good additional training for just like, ~being a scientist~ generally. But it's like,,,, several extra courses (five) which I mean yeah I could complete it slowly, one or two at a time, over the course of the years following my first two, but I just don't know if it'd be a good idea. If it'd be too much of a distraction from the Big Degree. And then on top of that I was already considering doing a brief internship or two. And then maybe (though this idea is significantly less well-formed) doing an exchange program one term through the program my uni offers, and that's not even mentioning all the cool workshops they have going on all the time that I want to take part in,,,,,, it's just that, I mean sort of like when I entered undergrad I'm seeing all of the offerings and want to take advantage of it all. It's kind of a once-in-a-lifetime thing, but I do actually want to get through it. Healthily.

Anyway I haven't mentioned any of this to my advisor lol. Can't show too much excitement too early. Just an appropriate, adult amount (whatever that means).

I think the important thing to remember will be that all the extras are nice, but my eyes need to stay on the prize.

Over the past several years, I've pretty successfully (and, perhaps, quite dramatically) limited my firsthand/fast fashion pieces, partly due to having a better grip on my spending habits (now that I'm spending my money) and partly due to moral convictions. However, I've recently come to recognize that there are several pieces in my wardrobe that, while looking "pretty good" for being secondhand, may not be particularly becoming for a person who looks like me and who is entering the grad school environment. My mother is pushing me to get rid of some of those items (as well as other fast fashion pieces that I've owned since high school), and I somewhat begrudgingly agree. She's also pushing me to look for suitable replacements, mostly firsthand, mostly fast fashion. The only way I can honestly feel comfortable reverting a little bit is by recognizing the fact that I genuinely attempt to take good, long-term care of my clothes. So even if I buy something at Old Navy or Target or TJMaxx, there's a decent chance it'll last me through the next six years or more, especially if they're basics.

My mom and I did get into a disagreement (it was silly and out of love but we still disagreed) about my wardrobe recently though. She complains that I don't have any color among by blacks and browns and creams. This is factually incorrect, and I reminded her that I've got greens and am constantly on the lookout for more. She told me that my hunter (and forest and sage) greens didn't count because they were muted. I told her she was being picky. I also told her that I would be receptive to adding lilac. She said I should be more open than just that. But I couldn't explain at the moment that I'm trying to build a wardrobe that is mostly modular so that I can add in whatever colors I want and not have to worry about whether I have anything to wear with them. I'll already have several potential outfits with some random piece I get on a whim one day. Anyway I needed to buy new cases for my devices and decided to get them all in lilac out of spite (admittedly, the black/gray theme I did four years ago was, perhaps, a tad boring and uninspired, but now they're dreadfully cute (I would've gone with green, but my sister is also going through a green phase, and we've already been through a period of us having the same phone and case, plus I don't think commitment to any ~~~aesthetic~~~ has to be all that deep)) but my mom says that doesn't count because they're not wearable. She also said (again) that I dress like an old maid and I had to remind her that spinsters were women who, historically, made their own money and choices for themselves, so I'm not particularly ashamed to be associated with them.

Today I'm thankful that my Enterprise-D came in good condition!!! I haven't taken it out of the box yet, but it (and its stand) appear to be in the original, unwrapped packaging. Just lovely. I also finished off a gift card by grabbing a card game and some posters, one space-based and one botanical, both vintage-looking, so decor is coming along.

I don't really care to tell most people where I'm going for graduate school. It sets a lot of expectations that I feel like I'm not always able to live up to. So when they ask "well what's next" I say "oh just grad school" and then only open up if they ask for specifics. But today, an older Black woman asked for specifics and I told her and she seemed so excited for me. I was a little bashful, but it felt good. There was a.. a unity in that interaction, something we didn't have to say aloud but it was there. Some people seem proud of me in almost a selfish way, I feel like. And that feels.. not good. But today's interaction was different in a good way. I only just met her today, but I hope I can make her proud.

[unproduciblesmackdown]

spent the evening reading through all of the like galley pdf copy of the 2 trans 2 furious zine and a great time start to finish like it was Not an effort to keep at it despite its being like 160 pgs. and despite my not having ever seen a f&f movie or really especially directly "correctly" being interested, though i'd ofc love to see any of the films like live & in person w/a bunch of trans strangers, say

laughed and teared up multiple times and thought about how impressive and creative entries were and like, the momentum was easy, everything was engaging and intriguing and invigorating and enriching....and Printed Editions (that ship to US & canada) are still available for pre-order, for about another week (also the window given for us going over the digital copy for edits/corrections lol) soooo. again i like haven't seen any f&f movies, and that didn't impede anything at all, and it was a fantastic time:

and another reason i'm like Oh My God So Appropriate To Have Sent In An Entry is how, like, it's all transformative fun and serious yet not somber Media Analysis on media you don't have to have actually even seen, or "like" straightforwardly, or at all, or be the "correct" audience for, or have an "intended" interpretation, lol, lmao....like this is Extremely our shit out here lol, what one is up to all the time in the world of Billions Series Analysis like, personally haven't even seen it, i'm not cishet enough to be the intended audience or otherwise sharing various particular assumed perspectives that are occasionally required to even parse, much less enjoy, some material....and yet!!

and like, if there was an all-autistic contributor's fun fan media analysis / commentary / parody / exploration / transformation / etc zine about billions? it'd be like wow how exactly me, and yet ofc i'd be at way more of a loss at what to scream abt winnie, perhaps ft. & tay, and the overall [billions]ing, much less how to actually execute that lol. it was easier to do a Very 101 Intro To: Cam Stone Exists Btw, nonbinarily, in that i limited myself to One Page so i could actually feasibly get it done, but in doing so i, as expected, could only say a fraction of what i could say about cam, were i explaining things in full / just unleashed, and skim the surface but just go "they exist btw and here's a tiny bit of further 101 info." it's not like, An Issue, b/c i don't think the [everything] that i could say would work great in full, and i can't write a great little short form piece of text about them (or winston, or anything else)....but it was also like, well if a trans f&f zine Doesn't have the trans f&f character in it then what are we doing, and We Know Of Cam Stone, so the most feasible [handing out a flyer] version of telling ppl they exist has gotta be done

and it's like, it's (relatively?) matter of fact to this end of only having so much room to put in words, and definitely ending up having to squeeze lines in vs struggling to fill the space. it could've been weirder, or funnier, or hornier, but it successfully exists and maybe it's a little weird, funny, and horny (drew an Especially [ooh sexy cam stone]-tinged pic lol) and whatever is difficult for me to perceive abt my own personality infusion in whatever, like how i have to be reminded like oh right, my Art Style, the way that Eye draw lol....and of course, i can't and don't expect my one page informative crash course intro to cam stone to be able to be Everything, any more than years' worth of lots of [winston billions] material in various formats of various extensiveness from various angles has been Everything. and the zine as a whole can't be Everything but it is, in fact, So Much abt So Many Things from so many different approaches. i enjoyed everything, especially like, "An Ode to X" as in fast x, which evolves into "x" as an (implicitly nonbinary) in-universe character and i was Moved and teared up, and i see it immediately follows "Jason Statham Will Call My Dad A Pussy In Fast 12" which moved me and made me tear up, which follows an entry that's a haiku about each film, none of which i've seen, which i didn't get misty about of course but was fully engaged with and enjoys, which follows my entry

there's naturally plenty about roads and horizons and racing and speed and i'm also like, i'm a gay who can drive, and i can feel it re: the trans contributor whose entry mine follows which is about their irl experiences driving in a demolition derby, inspired by f&f. and i can feel it re: enjoying f&f beyond how you're "supposed" to, or how you would in a cishet(tm) way, and how so many of these entries had resonance, and that intrigue and engagement, and lenses on where to find explorations of gendering which will kind of Have to come up whenever anything succeeds in approaching things that are genuine and really truly more To Life, even while the point of f&f is not to be "realistic," especially about, you know, the driving and what you can do with cars, which i fully appreciate and definitely understood more for cam stone being in a story ramming through a wall outracing an avalanche hacking cop cars and defusing bombs and ramping over bucket wheel mining excavators and being swept out of the way of a train that was going full speed but silent until like 0.05 sec ago when it also burst through a wall or something? and whomever all is involved with racing like a rocket launch fr. and having fun, being yourself, and killing people, hell yeah

and like, the [this is like my autistic ass out here laser pointing at winston billions as autistic and having that lens on this media that doesn't intend it or directly invoke it] relevance also Of Course in that, through kompenso, that is where it is like yes as i have that personal symposium of ongoing compounding unfolding branching distilling consideration, analysis, appreciation, transformation, etc going on, so too does my colleague as the world's preeminent tayficionado, which is where they looked into akd's oeuvre and found the cam stone material, and passed it on to me, then passed on the [zine call for trans f&f contributions], So

and that, just like as is also found crucially in kompenso / the then preexisting & all eventually following winnie n tay material, there's that Autistic and Trans resonance. some particular quotes from this zine were especially like, oh, pointing, pointing...."Thirty minutes into my visit, I suddenly just didn’t want to be there anymore. I didn’t feel angry, not really very sad at all either. I just longed to be elsewhere. A different place, with different people, within a different moment. And then every cell in my body pleaded to not feel that way in all of my moments, in every group of people, in all places." ....[from a poem, ft. formatting thusly:] "It made me feel important, kind of? Like, more present? Like people talked about me a lot but never exactly about ME, if you know what I mean. I mean, of course sometimes I could feel something inside of me. A sneaking or, like, a skittering. I just kind of figured everyone feels that sometimes, like really deep down, right? It’s just that no one really talks about it, you know. That’s what I figured." ....[from a section of a contribution w/the context of the author not yet knowing that they're trans]: "but he was familiar and didn’t make me think too critically about much in the world, especially myself, especially as he never seemed too interested to ask me about me—not that I would’ve had much insight to share at the time beyond “please do not think too deeply about how I am.”"; and then, w/the context that they do realize, and have expressed, that they're trans: "but I was still learning about the concept of mattering, so I didn’t push the issue of basic respect at the time." ....from another submission, that is Sooo: "maybe i am transing Fast and Furious just by loving it" ...."Discovering, loving, and sharing this franchise (and myself) with others has been such a wildly different experience—maybe even the opposite experience—than self-policing myself into who I thought I should be. It’s nourishing, welcoming—an open invitation to learn and grow rather than an ongoing test to constantly worry about failing."

an ongoing test to constantly worry about failing....here ofc a parallel to Gendering, and, ofc, the autistic & trans [handshake] and resonance, to Autisting....i resonated with plenty, genderingly, but this wasn't a surprise or even like, my focus, and of course not all the entries themselves Textually mention [gendering], but it's like, a trans space in a zine lol, a baseline of that understanding and perspective, vs having to be actively looking. nonzero textual neurodivergence mentions, too, and other lenses of ways to be Othered / non normative, like race, nationality, religion. the overarching, Constant [omg sooo me] resonance is that of like, having this foundation of refusing Limits, of approaching a Rich Text a hundred different ways, w/different tones, and different formats, and different experiences and ideas explored. you don't need the source material to acknowledge any noncishet people textually exist (to be understood by noncishet audiences), or to be deemed Good, or Enjoyed, or your entry to be proffered as like, correct and definitive rather than One exploration you could offer up, amongst many offered by many others who could say more, again, differently....i've been like, balancing excitement for having this contribution, and its being like ooh fancy lol this is the one time i can say i have (non self-)published work, and it'll be Out There, and (including all contributors' gifted copies) apparently that ft. abt a thousand printed copies atm, and the digital distribution option hasn't happened yet....along with, like, it can't even be my comprehensive, definitive [cam stone exists btw] theoretical Ideal Entry lol b/c that would not be feasible for me to make or to be put into a zine. knowing i have Points on my side for it being crucially relevant lore (and the competition being hotter for the small form text entries, though there's other illustrations, comics, collages, edits, etc) like, yeah the strength of this isn't in its being as weird or funny or horny as anything could be, lol....but my Personality is embedded in it as per like, see: how that Journey of relevant interests and enthusiasms and engagements and perspectives and weirder, hornier, more extensive and varied works led up to and contribute to this piece's existence (such as, years of drawing winston 9000 times being part of how my drawing looked in march, when i made the cam stone piece)

and like, in not seeing everything as a test to fail, in seeing [when are you seeing things as that test to fail], &/or similarly/overlappingly seeing [when are you seeing things as a test to Prove Value to others or something and achieve person status in their eyes b/c of it] like, lol, i hope a thousand plus ppl learn cam stone exists, and it'd be fun if they enjoy that process. put in little floaty hearts as flair, just as i often do, b/c by now i just Know and Embrace that i do. and i'm not like "i hope everyone ever is blown away" b/c why would they be lol, and that's fine. like how even in [i just say some shit abt winston billions, and ofc abt myself and my experiences / perspectives through winston billions while knowing that's not what's "meant" out here probably maybe though put me through to will roland, yknow...] i'm like oh don't be thinking abt proving your value w/this specific oeuvre lol like. anyone Caring as validation like, it's too late by now, i like people liking shit and getting anything out of it but it's like, i'm doing my thing, i'm having a specific ass symposium abt quantent and billionsing "wrong" that eye enjoy, i enjoy getting any feedback/attention on shit i put out there in case ppl wanna partake, i don't enjoy any/all of it in any/all ways just so long as it's Anything, yknow. like same with interactions/attention on Me as an autistic person who actually exists, lol. speaking being exhausting when it's ppl saying shit At me, would-be "positive" attention that's from someone like deciding what i'm like or what i'm communicating and wanting something from me, that shared discussion Abt something can only be a gateway into like "normal" exchanges to "normally" socialize, finding that pattern of not being worth effort unless it's effort that gets something out of hurting you / thwarting you; all versus: i have plenty of expertise knowing myself vs needing feedback, i like doing my thing, i like doing my thing Alongside others, probably strangers, within a certain context, like being cooped up at college and socially recharging by going ""alone"" to the coffeeshop down the block, while going "with" people would generally be a mixed bag if not disheartening to even distressing. which, here i am, doing my little thing alongside strangers in this context of transgendering and fun and serious but not not funny and varying and daring and earnest materials exploring something that's about anything or everything or nothing, and not made for You, but here you are anyways, as you always have been

anyways, that is to say, like, perfect that it's turned out so like "yeah you don't need to have seen the movies even" and such enriching Reflections and like, so different and yet cohesive without needing to like, painstakingly group or order things to create some Connections, they're all there, and i'm like damn yeah cam's quarter-mile V neck, so fucking true. and i'm like, this is so Me, without having to be like, "and that is b/c i have put Me on the page, in full, with utmost success, and Everyone Will Love It (Me)" lol, which was not like, a danger, but that's through all the years of going [everything is a test i'm failing / can fail at any moment] and yknow, even up to recently and this very moment wrangling with and realizing things like, hand on shoulder are you looking to "earn" some estimation of Value in others' eyes that they can only choose to give by seeing everyone as a fellow person w/inherent value who deserves basic respect. like the mortality mondays that ramped up since late january, but also since '09, but also since like forever in different forms, and back when first discovering billions and, for like the only time while we've been watching, Knowing when everything in a season will air, but also not thinking i'd get to see it, and now in a similar boat, but different (having done "nothing" on paper over the years but like, been Realizing Things, been powering up, been assigning the Value to myself and Understanding myself & my experiences further. and also other things that you Could put on paper, but yknow), and like, it's still about [grr let me see billions through, even though i don't even see billions] and still about [!!!] despite it all and things that are "unserious" and also not and who needs like a certain kind of validation from enough of certain kinds of people

anyways, the autistique resonance within it, and in the process of reading it, and having our specific path to sending something in, and making it. it's an excellent ride and it's very epic that it exists so consider that print copy preorder if you want (plus the intended eventual digital distribution option, not yet available)

[otakween]

Digimon World 2 - 40 Hours in update

Still trucking along with this one. I try to do about one dungeon a day and judging by the walkthroughs, I'm halfway through the main game (11 out of 20 missions). I'm finding both the gameplay and the story to be frustratingly uninspired, but at least I'm not ready to chuck my controller at the screen like I was with the first game. It's a good mindless game that I can watch YouTuber videos to and I appreciate that at the end of a work day.

Notes:

-I swear, this plot feels like it was kind of just made up as they went along. Characters come out of nowhere and they all have stupid names (Ben Oldman? What is that, a Star Wars character?) Everyone's flat, so I'm not emotionally attached to anyone. I'm also not emotionally attached to my digimon because I know I'll have to digivolve them eventually and they'll look completely different. (Still better than game 1 when they would die every 2 hours though).

-God bless emulators. If I was playing this game on an actual console I probably would have rage quit by now. Not only does save scumming allow me to avoid having to redo dungeons a jillion times, but I've also been using the frame limit feature to speed things up. Everything in this game takes TEN YEARS. In battles you're forced to watch up to 6 digimon slowwwwly attack each other and every time your character interacts with another they slowwwwly approach one another. Loading times in between screens are pretty bad too. Hitting the fast forward button has made everything so much more tolerable and I don't feel like I'm missing out on anything.

-All the dungeons look almost identical and that's become pretty mind numbing. They couldn't at least put some different colors/textures in there?? "Find the exit" isn't a very fun gameplay style either.

-Catching digimon is a pain in the ass...or it WOULD be if it weren't for my save scumming. Imagine going 10 floors in a dungeon only for a digimon to be like "Nah, I don't feel like joining your team" and then having to do those 10 floors again!? Couldn't be me...

-DNA Digivolution just forces you to have to do major grinding. I wish it worked like the anime where you got new digimon out of it, but instead you just get normal-ass digimon that you could tame in the wild. At least the Digimon Center is supplying me with the actually good digimon...

-Not sure the emphasis on digimon type was really necessary. It was kinda a neat idea, but having certain items only work for certain types is just annoying. Most of this game is just inventory management lol.

-I don't really know what's going on in the story at this point. They're suddenly talking about an evil digimon prince and I'm just like "where did that come from??" Bleh. I kinda wish there was voice acting.

-Positives: I like the art style still and the variety in digimon and battle moves are good. I've also kind of enjoyed slowly improving my digi-beetle.

-It seems like this game won't be overly long. I can tell you right now that I most likely won't be doing a completionist run. It doesn't seem like there are medals in this game anyways? It seems like it would be hell trying to obtain every digimon...

[protagonistheavy]

Since I cant trust Gamefreak to make a full and fulfilling Pokemon game anymore, I've been looking forward to spinoffs and the potential those might have. Legends Arceus had some bumps but it was ultimately a satisfying experience, so I think there's still hope that the non-mainline games can occasionally get the love and attention they deserve.

A game I'd really like to see at this point is a Pokemon Stadium 3, with an emphasis on customizing your dream Pokemon teams and battles. Importantly, I'd want to see every possible mechanic brought into one, consolidated game -- mega evolutions, Z-moves, dynamaxing, everything. Let people tweak and adjust any pokemon to their liking, up to their legal limits; pick out the exact nature, ability, EV distribution, etc. Add every holdable item, add every variation of pokemon, let the player pick out every move from their movelist. Yeah I know that this is basically that online Pokemon game but what I'm obviously looking for here is a proper gaming experience, with full graphics, polish, and in-game reasons to grind and keep coming back.

Not everything would have to be frontloaded to the player either. In fact I think a really cool idea would be unlocking these features through a straightforward campaign. That campaign could have the player going through tournaments or facing line-ups of trainers, and with each circuit you beat, you unlock new eras of pokemon to pick from, gradually unlocking their different forms, abilities, etc. Specific customizations for pokemon could even be locked behind challenges or achievements specific to that pokemon -- so you might be able to initially pick between its two normal abilities, but after using that pokemon to get a KO or something, you unlock the choice to use its hidden ability. Sort of like a prestige system, with the endgame reward for each specific pokemon being that you unlock their shiny variant.

Campaigns and other in-game events could also encourage all sorts of different playstyles and combinations. The main campaign can see rules being added, like only allowing certain types of pokemon, prohibiting certain moves or special attacks, etc. so that players have to think about battles differently. Special events could get even wackier and bend the rules, maybe giving every pokemon a specific ability or moveset, or doubling the effectiveness of stat boots, whatever. Ultimately the fun comes from seeing these different rulesets and finding your own way to approach them, while also grinding out different goals to keep expanding your options.

The cherry on top would be making battles themselves more efficient, faster. Text boxes should be minimalized and quick; animations and pop-ups for effects should be simultaneous; buffs/debuffs should all happen at the same time rather than one stat at a time. Add the right polish to battles, give players free camera movement, have the pokemon approach each other for physical attacks, etc. etc. etc.

A game like this could ideally be made on a tighter budget too. Yeah thered be a lot of pokemon and effects to put in but there wouldn't be any elaborate overworlds, bare minimum new characters, almost no need for any human models except maybe the ability to customize your own trainer, no epic plots or involved storylines. Just encourage players to build up their dream team and then play against each other in fast, fresh matches.

[sczfoundation]

Zombaseball

Item #: SCZ-640

Object Class: KETER Special Containment Procedures:  at this time there is no way to fully contain SCZ-640 however it is currently placed in a 4 by 4 inch 8 foot thick tungsten cube that is to be filled with an extremely acidic liquid.

Description: SCZ-640 is a baseball closely resembling SCZ-001 however instead of it being zombified its a skeleton. SCZ-640 is one of the most dangerous SCZ some of the things it can do include but not limited to being able to break through just about any surface with ease, rip right through someone leaving a hole the size of itself thus making them SCZ-640-2 the zombrand it makes is weaker but still extremely strong, able to catch on fire and set things on fire, and its ability to compel someone to free it no matter how strong minded they are.

Incident 640-01: a recording taken on an iphone 6SE was found at the scene of the first sighting of SCZ-640. Some of the video is corrupted and cuts out momentarily, we believe because of the anomalous effects of SCZ-640. Here's the written visual and audio of what happened

*heavy breathing over distant screams* “I-I don't know what's going on i-its a baseball but it's like a skeleton (video pans over to SCZ-640 in the distance) its-its so fast it’s the mother[REDACTED] that killed my brother. Please someone send help I-I think it seen me *video cuts out* *heavy breathing over the sounds of crying and running* its *sniff* it's coming after me I-I don't know how much longer i can run its *video cuts out* *muffled breathing camera behind bushed pointed at SCZ-640* *whispering* i'm gonna try to run *video cuts out* ITS SO FAST H-HOW IS IT SO FAST IT'S ALMOST- OH GOD HELP” *camera falls with sounds of screaming and bones and flesh being crushed* (the video goes on for another 2 mins with the sight of blood slowly flowing into frame before it abruptly cuts out) 

Incident 640-02: is a audioless CCTV recording of the outside of a local gas station the video. This was what happened after SCZ-640s first breach. here's a written description of what happened in said video.

(time is 12.33.46 date is 12/01/22) (sunny december day with all 4 gas pumps being used to fill up various vehicles) *SCZ-640 is seen approaching from the left side* *SCZ-640 proceeds to charge and cut one person in half around 3 seconds go by before someone tries to run and SCZ-640 jumps on them and bashes them to a bloody pulp the other two people try to drive away SCZ-640 jumps into the side of one and causes it to crash right into the front of the gas station killing them and 3 others in the store the other person got away* The person that got away was identified as John Gerald and questioned by the SCZ foundation and is now in therapy after what he saw.

Discovery: SCZ-640 was discovered shortly after the incident 640-1 was recorded, it was found by the nursing home leaving a trail of death and destruction. Around 541k in damages was caused because of SCZ-640 all covered by the SCZ foundation. Around 15 mins after its discovery by the SCZ team it was contained and placed in [REDACTED] however around 3 weeks later it did its first of many breaches .

[bugamartini]

needs more trees

[milkybonya]

donut test me

order 017, anon: large honey milk tea with pudding for Junghwan

Warning: swimming/water mentions, food mentions, some angst

Summary: an enemies to lovers!au where Junghwan hates his swimmer!classmate who always skips out on phys.ed, not knowing that they do something else with that extra time. (p.s. i'm sorry if you can't swim or don't like water :( i tried to think of other things but this au was just,, not leaving my brain so please don't read if you think it will make you sad or anxious okay?? take care of yourself first!)

[a/n] hahaha get it donut test me like do not test me but donut cause Junghwan likes donuts.... okay i'm sorry bye T.T

Junghwan sits down with Jaehyuk as they eat ramen in Jaehyuk's room. Noticing Junghwan is shaking his leg and seems to have something to say, Jaehyuk encourages him to speak.

"It's just... so unfair!! Why do they always skip out on phys. ed when everyone else has to run laps and do push-ups and-"

Jaehyuk puts his chopsticks down with a sigh, startling the younger boy.

"How many times have we talked about this already? All you can talk about is this person and how much you hate their guts because they skip phys. ed... is it really that deep?"

Junghwan intakes a sharp breath of air.

"You just don't get it, okay! I'll eat somewhere else," Junghwan says, but the boy leaves his bowl of food behind and slams the front door, going on a walk.

Jaehyuk would follow behind him, but he can tell the boy needs some space to clear his head.

"I'll worry and call him if he's not home in an hour..." Jaehyuk says to himself.

Outside, Junghwan walks slowly, lost in his thoughts and trying to figure out his feelings.

When Junghwan switched schools and entered the school you had been attending, he didn't pay too much attention to you. All he knew was that you sat in the back, were quiet and often dozed off but still tried your best when you weren't asleep. You always wore a tracksuit jacket over your uniform and zipped it up all the way, playing with the zipper when you were lost in your thoughts.

Okay, so clearly Junghwan observed you a lot, but he couldn't help it! There was just something... different about you. And that annoyed him, which made you annoy him.

That's how his hatred for you began, which slowly grew and developed over time, especially when he noticed that you were never in phys.ed. That was his favourite class, and not being able to see you there, breaking a sweat like everyone else bothered him.

What made you so special that you could just skip out on phys. ed? He wondered this all the time and it made him hate you.

You were oblivious. All you knew was that this new kid was a jerk, always bumping into you purposely when you crossed paths in the hallways, always rolling his eyes at you, glaring at you when you weren't looking at him and then looking the other way when you caught him... he was weird. And rude. But you ignored him because you had better things to think about.

-

The next day, Junghwan wakes up knowing he's decided on a course of action. He'll follow you when you leave after your last class before phys.ed to see where the heck you go.

Smiling to himself as he eats his breakfast, he makes Jaehyuk, who shuffles into the kitchen sleepily to drink water, think that Junghwan has gotten over his hate for his classmate. Little does he know how very wrong he is.

At school, Junghwan does not take his eyes off you, not wanting to keep you out of his sight. You notice someone is staring at you all day, but shrug it off and continue on as you usually do, talking with your friends before and after classes, and doing your best to stay awake during them.

Before phys.ed, you leave the math class just like everyone else does, except you make a right instead of a left. Junghwan does not miss this and carefully follows after you. He watches you pull out a duffel bag from your locker.

Hm, with a bag like that, aren't they going to phys.ed? Junghwan asks himself.

But you then continue down the hall, further away from the gym. When you begin walking down a staircase, Junghwan thinks you might actually be walking to the gym, but again, on the ground floor, you walk in a completely different direction. He's completely puzzled until he notices you walking towards a door that teachers and students alike have told you to never enter. Seeing you open those doors and step inside so comfortably makes Junghwan want to call out and stop you out of fear you'll get hurt or in trouble, but he stops himself, wondering why he even cares about you.

The smell of chlorine fills the hallway, and Junghwan decides to follow after you, not wanting to lose you.

The chlorine stench is even stronger past the doors, and he can hear lockers slamming as you get changed - although Junghwan doesn't realize what's happening. He simply walks straight ahead, not knowing where he's going until he's reached the entrance of a whole swimming pool!

The water glistens before him, completely still. His mouth is agape - why is this pool off-limits?

He hears your footsteps and hides behind a rack of pool items, watching through the cracks as you walk to the edge of the pool, pat yourself down and jump in. It takes a few seconds before you surface, but as soon as you do, you begin to swim slowly.

Junghwan watches you swim lap after lap without stopping, amazed at your endurance and skill. His jaw drops as, after you rest and stretch out of the pool for a bit, you enter and begin sprinting to the other end, swimming so fast that the motion of your arms and legs are like a blur.

"So Junghwan, please report to the gym immediately. So Junghwan, please report to the gym immediately."

Junghwan looks up at the speaker where the P.A sound came from, sighs and quickly leaves the pool.

Just as you finish your last lap, you look up to see someone's back as they leave the pool, not knowing who it is.

-

"Junghwan, why did you skip phys.ed?! That's your favourite class, you never do that," Hyunsuk tells Junghwan as they sit in the school office side by side.

The school phoned Junghwan's dorm after he was absent for the first 30 minutes of class, and Hyunsuk came rushing to see what was happening.

"I'm so sorry, but Junghwan is never like this, and I promise that it will never happen again," Hyunsuk tells the admin in the office.

Junghwan winces at Hyunsuk's words, knowing that it will indeed happen again because... Junghwan wants to watch you swim again.

-

From then on, Junghwan makes 3 bathroom breaks every phys.ed class just to watch you swim. He tells him teacher he has a bladder problem - of course the teacher doesn't believe him, but knowing he's a good student, he lets him go anyway.

You start noticing Junghwan after some time but never approach him, wondering if he'll ever speak to you first. He never does, and you never have the energy to talk to him until one day when your condition is bad and you feel embarrassed that you're being watched.

You end your lap and hop out of the pool, staring straight ahead at the wall on the far side opposite you.

"Hey, come out. I know you're there," you say.

After a moment of total silence, you repeat it, but louder, until a shy Junghwan slowly shuffles out from behind the pool equipment rack.

"Why do you always come here and watch me swim?"

"I-I don't-"

You sigh, not wanting to hear a silly excuse.

"Listen I'm not going to scold you or anything cause I don't really care, but my condition is really bad today so I'm extra pissed," you say truthfully.

Junghwan stays silent before mumbling an apology.

You bite your lip while looking at him, then hop out of the pool.

"It's fine. Practice is over for me anyways," you say, but Junghwan notices that you're leaving the pool fifteen minutes earlier than you usually do.

-

On your way home that day, you feel a little bad. Things weren't going your way and you took it out on Junghwan... but then, why you care? He's always such a jerk to you and deserved it. Still, though, he looked like he really felt bad when you scolded him.

Yet you decide to treat him better if he shows up the next day.

Which he doesn't.

He doesn't show up the next day, or the day after that. You find yourself waiting for him, not being able to focus and checking the pool entrance nonstop. It frustrates you, as your practice time is being wasted. You're a swimmer preparing to join the junior national team, given time out of phys.ed to practice because the school doesn't have a swimming coach and they trust you to figure things out on your own.

Yet Junghwan is present at school - you see him at all of your other lockers. He doesn't follow you around or stare at you anymore, and it makes you angry.

As he's getting his things from his locker a few days later, you slam your fist on the locker next to his, making him jump.

"Where have you been?" you ask.

"What do you mean?" he asks back.

"You haven't been coming... to watch me anymore," you say, feeling embarrassed.

"Because you didn't want me to," Junghwan responds, laughing slightly. You don't know if he's laughing at your embarrassed state or laughing in a way where he's wondering why you would even dare to ask such a thing.

"I never said that. I just said my condition wasn't good that day," you say, truthfully.

Junghwan remains silent, staring into his locker.

You poke his shoulder.

"You better be there tomorrow," you say before walking away.

Junghwan smiles slightly when you turn your back on him, holding his arm in the spot you touched it.

-

"Junghwan!" you yell from the pool as he approaches sheepishly.

He awkwardly says hi and waves, not used to your excitement. To be honest, you aren't used to it either.

"Come closer," you tell him, and he meets you at the edge of the pool.

"Do you want to try it?" you ask.

"Try what?"

"Swimming."

He stays quiet, thinking it over in your head.

You point at him.

"You're wearing your phys.ed clothes already. Just come in in those," you say.

Junghwan flashes you an awkward smile and he leans to the side, showing he's still not sure.

"I'll help you," you say, smiling up at him.

"... okay," he finally agrees.

He enters through the shallow end of the pool, complaining about the cool temperature of the water as soon as he dips his toes in.

"It's really cold!" he yelps.

All of his squirming makes him lose his balance, and you reach out to hold his hand so he won't fall. Both of you are so focused on making sure Junghwan gets in the pool safely that you don't even pay attention to the skinship. Or your hearts that are racing so quickly because of it

"Careful, careful down the ladder," you say.

He winces as he gets lower in the water until eventually his feet touch the bottom. He giggles and it makes you smile.

"So... what do we do first?" he asks you.

"Well... learning how to float is the most important thing. The way I learned was, I laid on my back like a starfish and my teacher held me from underneath until eventually I could do it without them having to hold me.

"On my back? I'm a little scared," Junghwan admits.

"Look, I'll show you first," you say, floating on your back and demonstrating.

"You just make it look easy," Junghwan says with a pout, but you firmly shake your head.

He gives in with a sigh and leans backward on your hands which hold him up.

"Ahhh the water in my ears sounds so weird!" Junghwan points out, laughing widely.

"You're doing great," you mumble, smiling down at him and moving a strand of hair out of his eye.

His eyes look away and his hands turn into fists as he feels your touch. He feels... loved. And warm even though the pool is so cold.

"I'll move my hands away slightly, see if you can try to float. It's all about relaxing, trusting the water. Don't get tense and don't hold your breath," you say as you slowly move away your hands.

But Junghwan's body reflexively stiffens and he begins to sink until you quickly hold him up again.

"Are you okay?" you ask, your eyes wide with worry.

"Yeah... cause you're here," he says a little shyly.

After teaching a boy you previously disliked for no real reason how to kind of float in water, you realize that all of your practice time has gone to waste, so you quickly sprint a few laps to make up for it as Junghwan watches you from the deck. He dries off his hair as he does so.

-

The next day, you tell Junghwan to join you again, but he shakes his head.

"You need to focus on your swimming, [y/n]."

"But-"

"I'll only come in for five minutes if you can do 40 laps in 20 minutes," Junghwan says.

Before he even finishes his sentence, you dive in and swim at a steady pace to finish it in time, and of course you do. You are a hidden star athlete after all.

When Junghwan joins you this time, he fills the place with his laughter as he tries to chase after you while running in the water as you swim away.

"Please just let me get you once!" he begs.

So you run with him and you chase each other around the pool until Junghwan tells you your five minutes are up and you have to practice again. You catch him as he says this though, wrapping your arms around the boy's waste and making him blush and stop talking mid-sentence.

Every day passes just like that, with the two of you exchanging nothing but small smiles and nods in class, but spending phys.ed together in the pool, Junghwan cheering you on as you train and you doing your best.

"You'll watch me at my swim meet, right?" you always ask Junghwan as the date begins to near.

"You know I will," he tells you each time.

And when the day finally comes, he's there in the bleachers, watching you walk up standing tall and looking confident despite feeling like a nervous wreck inside. You search for his face and find him, smiling and sending you a small wave.

It's all you need to remind you to breathe as you step up on the block and await the cue to get ready, then go. You dive in smoothly, dolphin kick for as long and far as you can before surfacing and beginning to sprint.

Not focusing on any of the lanes around you, you give it your all and just enjoy the feeling of you moving swiftly through the water as Junghwan cheers you on, and boy does he cheer you on.

He yells so loudly that it drowns out everyone else, and after you touch the wall on your final lap and raise your head, you can hear his booming voice yelling that you've done a good job.

The scoreboard confirms this, as you've come in first, and all you can do it smile down at the water, knowing your hard work paid off.

From the bleachers, Junghwan is ecstatic that you've come in first. He keeps wanting to turn to everyone around him and tell them that you're his s/o and you came in first... but you're not his s/o and now he doesn't even know what's wrong with him - why does he want you to be his s/o? Wait... he wants you to be his s/o?

When you're able to meet Junghwan for dinner at a fast food place later - your first meeting outside of school - he seems dazed and nervous. You keep asking him if he's okay as he fidgets with his hands, and all he can say is 'yes'... but something is clearly on his mind. So you wait for him to speak up first instead, and he does.

"Listen, [y/n], I know this may be really weird because... we don't even properly know each other yet, and I'm worried I'll ruin our friendship if I say this and it doesn't go well but... it's taking over my mind and I can't just forget about it anymore. [y/n]... I've realized that I like you and I want to date you."

Your silence causes him to keep rambling.

"I want to call you mine... like even at the meet I just wanted to tell everyone that you're mine and you won but-"

You put a piece of chicken in his mouth and he blinks at you.

"Let me answer, dammit. Sure, I'll date you. As long as we get to see each other outside of phys.ed class and outside of school," you say, looking down and eating so Junghwan won't see your excited eyes.

Junghwan laughs, poking your knee with his finger under the table.

"Of course we'll see each other outside of phys.ed and school..." he says, giggling to himself with joy.

Later, when he tells Jaehyuk that he's dating the person who he hated for skipping phys.ed, you can bet Jaehyuk teases Junghwan to no end. Why? Because he saw this coming. Of course he'd fall for you, because Jaehyuk knows who you are. You're the school's star athlete, known for using phys.ed time to train. Of course innocent little Junghwan, who very rarely hates anyone, would end up falling for you, hard. And he does, of course.

[apixrl]

SINCERELY, YOURS.

hanta sero x fem!reader

WARNING(S): none

word count: 3.0k

song: sincerely, yours // nohidea

note(s): i just think that he'd be the perfect hubby tbh (EDIT: I'M SO DUMB I POSTED W/O TAGS PFAHAHHA)

Hanta finally managed to force open the door to the log cabin that had long been awaiting your arrival, the wooden structure welcoming the approaching warmth and laughter of the newly wedded couple. The ravenette smirked joyously and let out a triumphant 'hoorah', your laughter only adding to the display of ego on his face.

"And you said I'd drop you," Hanta mocked your earlier words, looking down at you with that very same smirk. If not for your arms wrapped around his neck and entire weight held in his arms, you most likely would have pushed his face away by the cheek. To avoid that shit-eating, joking smirk that rarely left his dumb and lovable face. The face you fell for so undoubtedly swift and heavy.

"I didn't say you would I said you may drop me," Was your response. "It's not every day we walk through so much snow!"

"Hush now, that was nothing to me," Hanta lifted the arm that supported your back, planting his lips on your forehead in a sweet welcoming kiss. Your lips curled in approval, accepting the gesture as Hanta used his foot to close the door behind you both, driving away the cold breeze from outside as warmth replaced it. "Now would you look at this place!"

Heeding Hanta's words, your eyes averted from his addicting gaze to the bonnie log cabin interior set out before you two. From left to right the cabin maintained an earthy theme, consistent in wooden textures excluding that of the supple beige sofas in the centre of the room. They were accompanied with ripening red cushions, as well as a few other pieces of furniture containing the same colour to maintain an advertising aesthetic no doubt. Lengthy beams stretched from one end of the walls to the other, set out in rows. The deepest wall (opposite to the entrance) was made mostly out of glass and onlooking a gorgeous snowy forest scene, small golden lights lit up outside to only add to the aura already presented. Built-up by red bricks and extending up toward the ceiling was a great open fireplace, already sparked alight and sensing a contrasting warmth to the bitter cold outdoors. In the corner of the room were a set of stairs most likely directing themselves off to the bedroom, though you and Hanta were so taken by the bottom floor's interior neither of you even processed there were more rooms to see.

"Wow... this place is gorgeous!" You said through a whisper, face lighting up at the sight. Never had you thought a place could be so beautifully arranged and so beautiful in general, and the two of you had this place to yourselves for an entire two weeks... it made you feel like the luckiest person alive! That you were really, as you'd just tied the knot the love of your life and were starting an entirely new journey with him. From the very moment you'd both uttered 'I do' in front of all your friends and family - the paths you lead became one that you would waltz down together.

"So you like it then?" Hanta asked, ebony eyes trailing away from the open fire and down to your own E/C irises. His smirk slowly transitioned to an endearing grin upon seeing your face of wonder, heart skipping a beat as your gaze met his and your expression mirrored.

"Of course! It's just how I imagined it - even more stunning than the pictures online," Your hand grazed Hanta's gloved one, though the barricade of wool and cotton did nothing to prevent the love and desire sent through the tips of your fingers. The ravenette admired your beauty in that lingering stare shared between you, exhaling a content sigh. You never failed to astound him with your beauty, the way your eyes glowed whenever you looked at him. How your hair fell perfectly into place no matter the circumstance (even on your worst of hair days you somehow managed to make it work). Not to mention your smile and laugh - those specific factors alone making Hanta fall for you over and over and exceeding limits of love and admiration he didn't even think he possessed.

Just before Hanta was to fall into daydream you shook him out his thoughts, the shifting of weight in his arms struck him to shake out of it, realising that you were attempting to shuffle out his arms in order to stand. So he let you down, grip loosening and reluctantly allowing you to step away.

"I'm glad," He quickly uttered, his hand lifting to his head to remove the woolly hat resting there. Then he proceeded to unbutton his winter coat as did you, the pair of you making light work of it due to the excitement of exploring your temporary home.

"So our suitcases are already here?" You asked Hanta, straightening out your knitted turtleneck jumper which was a soft pink shade. Usually something you wouldn't wear, but it was well-suited for the weather and didn't irritate your skin. So you took advantage of the purchase. From your left Hanta hummed softly, turning towards you once he was done hanging his coat on the rack. He too had a turtleneck on, but his donned a collect of abstract patterns and stuck to more neutral colours than yours.

"Yep, they should be upstairs," Hanta replied, running a hand through his hair as he looked over at you. He shifted over to your side, hugging you from behind with a mischievous chuckle. "But we can unpack tomorrow,"

"I like the idea of that, I just wanna snuggle," You responded with a giggle, leaning back into your husband's hold. After a few seconds Hanta stepped forwards, forcing your feet to follow suit. The ravenette guided you both to the nearest sofa, where he messily fell back against the ruby red cushions and you alongside him.

"That's because you procrastinate more than you've ever been willing to admit," Hanta turned you over so you sat atop his middle, hands settled on your hips like they were structured to hold them. There was a smirk on his face as you rolled your eyes at his last comment.

"I procrastinate because you distract me," You corrected, poking his chest with a prominent finger.

"Ah well, what can I say? I'm just that pretty aren't I?" He replied, laughing joyously. You couldn't help but echo with your own form of a chuckle, shaking your head as the smile on your face sent Hanta all kinds of elated emotions through his veins.

"You're not wrong there, Tiger," You grinned ear to ear, staring lovingly in his direction. Words weren't enough to express how much you loved him, your mind struggling to form sentences most of the time with just how much he took your breath away. In truth, you would have allowed yourself to remain gazing into Hanta's eyes the entire night. But you were due to catch sight of an envelope on the coffee table next to you both, drawing your attention away from him as fast as it came. The item too out of the ordinary to ignore. Peculiarly you leaned over to grab it, tilting your head at the item.

"What's that?"

"I don't know," Was your answer. Your fingers proceeded to slit open the top, discovering a smaller, folded piece of paper inside. Curiously you opened it up, voice filling the room as you discovered golden ink was printed on one side and intended to read it out.

" Dear Mr and Mrs Sero,

We are beyond pleased that you chose to stay with us for your honeymoon. Have a wonderful and splendid time at the start of your journey together and we wish you nothing but happiness and joy during your stay.

Kindest regards,

[resort/name] "

"Mr and Mrs Sero," Hanta repeated with a thoughtful stare to the wooden beams above. "I'm still not used to hearing that and we've already been married a week," A smile formed on his lips, releasing a chuckle from the depths of his chest. Almost like he couldn't believe the words he had just uttered. Tilting your head, you pondered on what he meant.

"How do you mean?" You didn't receive an answer straight away, the man you called your husband gently sighed, almost with the case of the lovesick. Somewhere during the exhale Hanta's eyes fell from the beamed ceiling and onto you, gratitude threaded in his expression as he stared at you.

"I just don't know how I got so lucky to marry someone like you," His hand extended to cup your cheek, cradling the slightly chilled part of your face (thanks to the cold air and wind from outside) as his thumb stroked the surface of your skin. Your eyes widened, all too used to the gesture but rarely ever prepared for it whenever Hanta committed to it. You smiled, nuzzling into his warm hold as your eyes closed.

"Me too," You hummed, sighing out yourself as your heart fluttered higher and higher with each passing second. A short silence ensued, ending as you abruptly let out a little laugh. It caught Hanta's attention, his head cosying into the cushion behind him as his brows raised.

"What?"

"Oh, nothing. I was just thinking about the night you proposed. That's all," Another laugh escaped, humour striking you as you recalled how it had played out. From the manner your lover rolled his eyes, he clearly still hadn't emotionally recovered from it.

"That stupid fire pit," He groaned, eyes closing in annoyance. "I can't believe I let it ruin the moment,"

"I don't think that was the fire's intention, Hants,"

Despite being blatantly confident and bold, when it came to more... intimacy-related things, Hanta Sero's expertise dwindled dangerously. It had taken him months of knowing you to actually ask you out on a date, and when you finally got together? Well, it took him four years before he began to think about popping the question - three months more to actually pop it. Whilst you did say yes once he got down on one knee on the balcony of your holiday home for your fourth anniversary together, the events that proceeded after were what truly traumatised the poor ravenette.

Your holiday was spent somewhere in the Caribbean at a beachside residence that locals rented out for tourists. You and Hanta had always been big on travelling, hence your honeymoon location being such an unconventional place. Or as far as you knew, you didn't have an exact number on how many honeymoons were spent in remote mountain ranges surrounded by blustering winds and snow. It was a nice change of pace to the intense heats nearer the Equator.

During that vacation in particular though, that was the year Hanta finally decided to propose. After a long day on the beach, swimming in the ocean and feeling the sand between your toes as evening approached, you watched the sunset on the balcony of the second floor, neighbouring your bedroom. To set the mood the firepit in the centre had been lit, creating a stunning orange glow in Hanta's eyes as he held you close to his chest.

You noticed he was quite fidgety in his seat, wondering what was wrong with your lover as he gripped his knee tight. Like he was uncomfortable or nervous. Like he needed to get something off of his chest. It was only when you pointed out your concern and his odd behaviour that Hanta managed to shift his stance. Moving from his stiff position to wobbling on one knee, then came the heartfelt speech that gave you a sense of where he was going. A subtle reach into his pocket and before you knew it, you were shouting yes into the night sky and your eyes foggy with tears of complete and utter joy.

Hanta placed the ring on your finger, the realisation hitting him at that moment that you and he were engaged. His excitement got the better of him, the male sweeping you in his arms and swinging you around as he babbled sweet nothings into your ear. The speed wavered his balance, his leg knocking into the table holding a bottle of wine he had ordered specifically for the occasion. Much to both of your bad luck, it all collapsed against the firepit and tipped it over - and one can only imagine what happened next. A rather chaotic ruckus erupted between you as Hanta grabbed you by the waist and flung you both out of the building via the balcony to ensure your safety. Then he 'thwipped' straight back up to the fire and frantically searched for the fire extinguisher to put it out, all whilst you sat on the sandy ground outside, frozen to how drastically the mood had changed.

Luckily the fire didn't spread too far. If not for Hanta's efficiency in dealing with it upfront, it could have spread to the bedroom and the rest of the house. It did not, however, the most damage being the balcony sofas that were scorched no thanks to their wooden frame and white cushioning.

Despite having just been engaged, there wasn't much you and Hanta could do to celebrate. So the night ended with you and he falling to slumber in the early hours of the morning, too exhausted after dealing with the owners' wrath after the slight mishap of nearly setting their building ablaze.

"At least you didn't burn the entire house down," You tried after a few seconds of quiet, earning a scoff on Hanta's part as he ran a hand through his hair.

"It felt like it when I called the owner's to tell them what happened," Hanta answered, softly frowning at the shrieking yells he heard during that call ringing their way through his mind again. Long after he'd shut them out based on the humiliation of being on the receiving end. You giggled, recalling how you were able to hear them despite the phone not being on speaker.

"I'm surprised they let us stay for the rest of the week,"

"That's because I paid the money for the damage caused within six hours of them demanding it," Hanta reminded you, dragging his hands down his face as he groaned out. Probably expelling his inner cringe at his foolishness that night. "Times like that make me relieved I'm a top ten pro, helps out with emergencies a great fucking deal,"

"Are you sure that didn't play any part in their generosity? That you're a top ten pro?"

"No way," He said and sat up to meet your height, hands looping to cradle the small of your back. He held back continuing to briefly peck you on the lips. "The bill they gave me was the complete opposite of generous,"

"How much was it again?" You asked, memory not serving you the answer. The ebony-haired male leaned forwards to kiss you again before he moved his lips up to your ear. His voice became a whisper, telling the sum in Yen which made your eyes widen in astonishment.

"Wow," Was your instinctive reply, Hanta scoffing a laugh in agreement based on your tone of surprise. It was there he nuzzled into your neck, inhaling through his nose to catch a whiff of your scent. The aroma acting as a sedative to wipe the memory from his mind permanently. All he wished to remember of that night was the way your face lit up as he asked you to take his hand in marriage. How your tears formed and how your lips uttered the words he had oh, so desperately wanted to hear after months and months of worry of being rejected.

And look at you both now; husband and wife and on your honeymoon. Holding each other as close as close can be with no doubt or hesitancy in your minds at all. Why he had worried so much was something he would never be able to figure out. As looking back, all of it felt like the easiest thing he had ever had to do.

Due to that, Hanta smiled into your neck. The change could have been missed, but you were far too attentive to not notice. The feeling of his cheeks shaping his smile made you smile as well, your arms wrapping around Hanta's neck in a desperate need to pull him closer. Your fingers ghosted the back of his neck, tickling the hairs that attached with care like no other. You rested your chin on his head, eyes closed gently in comfort. In response, Hanta hummed lowly, hands starting to rub up and down your back like he was giving you a massage.

Silence passed, the two of you simply enjoying the other's company and the intimate moment you had welded together. The proximity created a warmth that could fight any cold, the fireplace behind you both unneeded to fight the swirling snow outside. Your eyes peaked open as the faint crackle of the fire nearby caught your attention. You watched the flames dance for a second or so before you plucked up the confidence to speak.

"Just... let's not set fire to this place. Alright?" You mused, holding your breath as you waited for Hanta's response. Luckily he didn't dismiss it, actually finding the comment quite funny. He voiced a blurt of a laugh, head shaking as much as he could make it whilst it buried into the depths of your neck. Hanta's mouth opened to make his reply, quickly hushing up again to return to the peaceful silence of before, not at all ready to let it go just yet.

"Agreed,"

[nerdythebard]

#12: The Doctor [Doctor Who]

Brother, I disown you...

I don't know what my friend/chosen brother was thinking when he made this request... Actually, no, I know exactly what he was thinking! Well, no time to dawdle, let's do this Time Warp. Again.

Next Time: Before we return to the gods, I want to make a character very close to my heart. He is also a Doctor... only, word of warning, he's a little... Strange.

Well then... sigh, let's see the goals we need to meet to make the most brilliant alien in television playable in D&D:

Heroes Never Die: The signature ability of a Time Lord (and the most problematic), a way to cheat death and return to life. Yes, somehow we need to make a virtually immortal character in Dungeons & Dragons...

Bunny-Ears Lawyer: Even in his relatively serious regenerations, the Doctor is prone to flashes of randomness, acts of nonsense, mixing puns and physical comedy to often hide the incredibly fast and advanced brain processes.

Go-Go Gadget Galore: Do I even need to say anything? Besides his trusty TARDIS (which will not be included here, we're making the Doctor, not his equipment!), the Doctor also brandishes sonic devices of multiple varieties, psychic paper, the thing that goes DING, etc.

---

As you can imagine, finding the right race replacement for Time Lords wasn't easy. I'm definitely not using The-Movie-That-Does-Not-Exist solution, and making the Doctor... half-human, urgh. All we need to do is find a humanoid, almost-fossil race that can come back from death a limited amount of times.

The Doctor is a Human Revenant, a playtest race from Unearthed Arcana: Gothic Heroes. In-game, Revenant is an undead that came back to life to pursue a certain goal, whether it's vengeance, retribution, or to make amends. Putting some flavour into it, and turning it into a long-living, mysterious being who perhaps came from the Astral Plane to search for a way to save his home planet... why not? Regular Revenants get only a +1 to Constitution, but if we're using pre-existing race (such as Human), there's another set of rules. So, we get a +1 Constitution and +1 Intelligence, and we don't get to pick a skill or a feat. Not yet.

What's most important here is the Revenant's Relentless Nature feature. We are assigned a goal, a very specific one, that we must complete in order to achieve peace. Work with your DM on that one (the saving-your-home-world one from before sounds like a good start). Until we complete the goal:

If we are below Hit Points Maximum, at the start of our turn we regain 1 Hit Point;

We know the distance and direction to any creature involved in our goal (perhaps a fellow, once-friend Time Lord?);

When we die, we come back to life within 24 hours with 1 Hit Point. If our body is destroyed, we come back in a spot within 1 mile of our place of death (unfortunately, our equipment is destroyed);

BOOM! JUST FLAVOUR EACH DEATH AS A CHANGE OF FACE AND PERSONALITY, AND WE HAVE THE REGENERATION SYSTEM! HAH! YOU SEE THAT, BROTHER!?

Ekhm... back to work, then.

The Doctor is pretty far from home, so giving him the Far Traveller background seems like the right approach. We gain proficiencies in Insight and Perception skills, proficiencies with one musical instrument (perhaps a recorder?)/gaming set, we learn one language of our choice, and we get the All Eyes on You feature; our mannerisms and quirks definitely draw attention towards us and our group, but we can take advantage of that in order to fish for some information, secure an audience with the local nobleman, or... I dunno, snog Madame de Pompadour?

ABILITY SCORES

No surprise there, we start with Intelligence. We have a literal Big Galaxy Brain™ and we use it often, and only sometimes to show off. Follow that up with Dexterity, we're nimble and we're doing a lot of running, especially when being chased (plus, we've invented the Drunken Giraffe dance). Constitution is next, the Gallifreyan biology is significantly superior to that of regular Terrans.

Next up, Charisma. It usually works, sometimes it doesn't, but even then we're kinda adorkable. Wisdom is a little low, I think we all shall agree to that, the Doctor is a creature of whim. He gets lost in thought, has a hard time remembering to explain his logic to others. Finally, we're dumping Strength. Now, we're definitely physically stronger than humans, I just don't remember any particular feats of super-strength in the show.

Heck, you want even more Time Lord shenanigans? Ask your DM to implement the "every death/regeneration makes all ability scores randomly switch places" rule.

CLASS

Level 1 - Artificer: Once again, nobody is surprised we begin with the Smart & Techy One™ for the Doctor. Artificers were brought to 5e via Tasha's Cauldron of Everything. These magical tinkers have d8 Hit Dice, [8 + Constitution modifier] initial Hit Points, proficiencies with light armour, medium armour, heavy armour, shields, simple weapons, and optionally firearms (although that's definitely not the Doctor's style). We additionally get proficiency with thieves' tools, tinker's tools, and one set of artisan's tools we choose. We can't get the sonic screwdriver (although if you want one, hint to your DM about the existence of the All-Purpose Tool), we have all these tools to replace it with. Our saving throws are Constitution and Intelligence, and we get to pick two class skills: let's get History and Investigation.

Artificers start with Magical Tinkering, an ability to bestow harmless magical properties onto inanimate objects. We choose a Tiny object with no magic in it, and grant it one of the following properties indefinitely:

It sheds bright light for 5 feet and dim light for an additional 5;

Whenever tapped, the object plays a recorded message no longer than six seconds;

The object continuously emits a smell or a sound of our choice;

A static image (picture, lines of text, shapes, etc.) appear on the object's surface.

Artificers are also casters, so at the first level, we get Spellcasting. Our casting ability is, of course, Intelligence and the number of spells we can prepare is equal to [our Intelligence modifier + half of our Artificer level rounded down]. We also know how to cast rituals.

We start with two cantrips:

Magic Stone lets us imbue three pebbles with magic (or perhaps, in this case, kinetic energy?) for 1 minute. We can then use the pebbles ourselves, or give them to somebody else. On a successful hit, the target suffers [1d6 + our Intelligence modifier] bludgeoning damage and the spell ends on that particular pebble.

Prestidigitation is a cantrip of plenty varieties, which very well could be disguised as the Doctor's tinkering with his sonic screwdriver. It can be used to warm or chill food, clean or soil objects, or perhaps lighting and snuffing our small flames.

We start with two 1st-level spell slots, and we get three 1st-level spells:

Alarm sets up a secured perimeter, no larger than a 20-feet cube, for 8 hours. Whenever a create not-designated as safe while setting the spell, crosses its boundary, we get a signal informing us about the intrusion, which also wakes us up if we're sleeping. The signal can be set to inform only us, or everybody around.

Detect Magic informs us of any magical activity within 30 feet of us for 10 minutes (concentration). We sense magic lingering on objects, people, as well as locations, and we can determine the type of magic present (but not a particular spell, for example, we sense that a spell on the object is enchantment-type, but not that it's Power Word: Kill).

Identify is... pretty much the one function of the sonic screwdriver we've all seen. It lets us learn about an object we choose, including its magical properties (if any) and if it's affected by any spells. And it works on wood!

With a spell list like that, we can safely say

Level 2 - Artificer: We continue with the Tech Savvy Class, and we learn the Artificer's signature skill, Infuse Item. It lets us bestow magical properties onto mundane items. Similarly to Warlock's Invocations, Artificers have Infusions they can select and put into items. Starting from this level, we can infuse two items at once, and we get to pick four Infusions from the list. For the Doctor, let's pick:

Replicate Magic Item: Bag of Holding is probably the most useful infusion in the early game. The infusion does exactly what it says, and a Bag of Holding is always a good item to own (just watch out for the Bag Man!)

Enhanced Defence infusion puts some extra protection (+1 to AC) onto an armour or a shield.

Mind Sharpener is a helping hand for any spellcaster. The infusion put onto an armour, or woven into a robe, sends a jolt to re-focus the mind. When the wearer fails a Constitution saving throw to keep their concentration, one charge (out of four) of the infusion expends, to make them succeed instead. The charges are refilled at dawn.

Returning Weapon gives a +1 to attack and damage rolls of the weapon it's applied on and makes it return to the wielder's hand immediately after it's used to make a ranged attack. With the keyword "immediately", it gives your Rangers and other bow-users infinite ammunition with just one arrow.

We can also get one more 1st-level spell: Disguise Self changes our appearance for 1 hour, or until we choose to dismiss it as an action. The spell affects our body, clothing, and items we carry (including weapons). It is not a physical disguise, just an illusion woven around us; if we make ourselves thinner than we really are, and somebody was to touch the space where our regular body would be, they're going to feel the body, albeit invisible. For the Doctor, this seems like a combination of psychic paper and the Chameleon Circuit.

Level 3 - Artificer: At this level, we get the Right Tool for the Job feature. If we have thieves' tools or artisan's tools in hand, we can create any other set of artisan's tools.

We also get to pick our subclass, our Artificer Specialization. The Doctor is no alchemist, and we'll probably build Tony Stark at some time in the future, therefore we're picking Battle Smith. Those tinkers are masters of protections, being able to put up defensive mechanisms on the spot. Since the Doctor is a diplomat first, runner second, and combatant very close and reluctant third, focusing on support is a good option.

As a Battle Smith, we gain proficiencies with smith's tools, and we gain some more magic with Battle Smith Spells:

Heroism imbues the willing creature with bravery. Until the spell ends (1 minute, concentration), the target is immune to being frightened and gains Temporary Hit Points equal to our Intelligence modifier at the start of each of their turns (AKA every six seconds). When the spell ends, any Temporary Hit Points remaining are lost.

Shield creates an invisible barrier as a reaction to getting hit. It adds +5 to our AC until the start of our next turn.

Although a reluctant fighter, the Doctor as a Battle Smith also gets the Battle Ready feature. We gain proficiency with martial weapons, and when we attack with a magic weapon, we can use our Intelligence modifier instead of Strength or Dexterity for attack and damage rolls.

Finally, Battle Smiths get the Steel Defender. With our tinkering, we create our first companion, a steel defender; it is friendly to us and our companions and obeys our commands. With that, we got ourselves the one and only K9

Level 4 - Artificer: At this level, we get our first Ability Score Improvement! However, instead of upgrading our abilities this time, we'll grab a feat. The Telepathic feat from Tasha's Cauldron of Everything will represent the Doctor's limited psychic abilities: we increase one of our non-physical abilities by 1, let's go for Intelligence. We can speak telepathically to any creature within 60 feet, but the creature cannot reply (unless they're telepathic too, of course). Finally, we can touch a Detect Thoughts spell once per long rest, without a need to expend spell slots. Give your target a good headbutt, and learn their surface thoughts.

We also get our final spell: Catapult turns one inanimate object that isn't worn or carried (and weighs from 1 to 5 pounds) and turns it into a remote projectile. The object flies in a straight line for 90 feet before losing its momentum and falling. If it hits a creature, they have to make a Dexterity saving throw or take 3d8 bludgeoning damage. Distract your pursuers with a head of cabbage flying at their heads.

Level 5 - Rogue: We say goodbye to the Artificer, as we move onto Rogue for the rest of the build. Rogues use the same Hit Dice as Artificers, so nothing really changes when it comes to our Hit Points. We already have proficiency with light armour and thieves' tools, but we can pick one class skill – let's pick Acrobatics for better running and parkour chances when escaping aliens and responsibilities.

Rogues start with Expertise, which lets us double our proficiency bonus (NOT ability modifier) for two skills of our choice: let's boost Insight and History, to best utilize our centuries of living. We also learn how to speak Thieves' Cant, a special system of phrases and signals used by other Rogues to communicate without revealing their secrets. Finally, we have Sneak Attack: once per turn we can add 1d6 extra damage if a) we have an advantage on our roll, or b) the target is within 5 feet of another creature hostile towards it. The attack must be done by either a ranged weapon or one with the finesse property (like a dagger or a rapier).

Level 6 - Rogue: We get Cunning Action, which let us turn some Actions we can do in combat into Bonus Actions. That way, we still have an Action to spare if we decide to use Dash, Disengage, or Hide. Considering how much running the Doctor does, it's good to have something else to do just in case.

Level 7 - Rogue: Our Sneak Attack changes to 2d6.

We also get to pick our second subclass, our Roguish Archetype. Now, initially, I considered going Swashbuckler, as it combines nimble footwork and gives us some charm abilities. However, since we're going with the build that emphasizes support and actual combat as a last resort, we'll go with Inquisitive.

We start this subclass with Ear for Deceit, whenever we roll Insight checks to determine if a creature is lying to us, we treat each roll of 7 or lower as 8.

We also get Eye for Detail. This is mostly to be used in combat (or if your DM runs dungeons in Initiative Mode), as it allows us to use Perception or Investigation checks as a bonus action, where it would normally take an action.

Finally, Inquisitive Rogues get Insightful Fighting. As a bonus action, we can make an Insight check, contested by the enemy's Deception check. If we succeed, for 1 minute we can use our Sneak Attack on the target even if we don't have an advantage or the target isn't near another of its enemies.

Level 8 - Rogue: Time for another ASI! Let's raise our Intelligence by 1 point, and use the spare one for Strength.

Level 9 - Rogue: Our Sneak Attack changes to 3d6.

We also get Uncanny Dodge. Whenever we're being hit by an attack, we can use our reaction to halve the damage dealt.

Level 10 - Rogue: Halfway through the build, and we get another shot at Expertise. Once again, we get two skills to which we can double our proficiency bonus. Let's go with Perception and Investigation.

Level 11 - Rogue: Our Sneak Attack becomes 4d6.

We also get one of the better abilities in the game, Evasion. If we're being targeted by an AoE attack that would deal half damage on a successful Dexterity saving throw, we take no damage if we make the save. What that means is, we can now take a Fireball face-on, shrug it off and loudly proclaim

Level 12 - Rogue: We get another ASI. Let's improve our Dexterity by two points this time.

Level 13 - Rogue: Our Sneak Attack becomes 5d6.

We also get another subclass feature. Steady Eye gives us an advantage on Perception or Investigation checks if we move no more than half of our movement speed on our turn.

Level 14 - Rogue: Time for another ASI. Let's focus on getting some more Hit Points this time, and get +2 points to Constitution.

Level 15 - Rogue: Our Sneak Attack becomes 6d6.

At this level, we get Reliable Talent, which upgrades our abilities to almost anime protagonist-level. Whenever we make a check for a skill we're proficient in, we treat all rolls of 9 and lower as 10.

Level 16 - Rogue: We're getting one more ASI. Let's raise our Dexterity again, putting 2 points in it.

Level 17 - Rogue: Our Sneak Attack becomes 7d6.

We get our final subclass upgrade for this build, the Unerring Eye. We can now sense illusions and magical tricks within 30 feet, as well as shapechangers not in their original form. We can detect there is an effect trying to trick our senses around us, but we don't know its nature (i.e. if we meet a creature that activates our sense, we cannot distinguish whether it's a Disguise Self spell, or a natural shapeshifting ability, or a Druid's Wild Shape).

Level 18 - Rogue: We get another one of the best abilities in the game, Blindsense. We can now detect the presence of invisible and hidden creatures within 10 feet radius of us.

Level 19 - Rogue: Our Sneak Attack becomes 8d6.

Our mind becomes more slippery with Slippery Mind. We gain proficiency in Wisdom saving throws.

Level 20 - Rogue: Our build's capstone is Rogue 16, which is also our final ASI. Let's finally cap Intelligence, as it should've been from the start when it comes to Time Lords.

---

There it is. My take on how to play as the Doctor in Dungeons & Dragons. I believe I've covered most if not all of the important features the Doctor has, but let's see:

Let's face it, we're not a frontline fighter... we're not even a backline fighter. We support. With 14 AC (without armour), 151 Hit Points on average, and a +4 to Initiative, our job is to manoeuvre, around the battlefield and let our friends take care of the enemy, while we do other things. With Reliable Talent and Expertise we are great at sweeping the room for clues and hints, even if in the heat of battle. Thanks to Unerring Eye and Blindsense, our senses aren't that easy to fool.

Unfortunately, our Strength is not great, and that means some weapons are just a hindrance (unless we pick a finesse weapon, which replaces Strength with Dexterity). While we have late-game proficiency in Wisdom saving throws, throughout the earlier stages those might prove a little problem.

---

And that is it for this build. I hope that you guys enjoyed it, and I'll see you for the next one!

- Nerdy out!

[oddsnendsfanfics]

Unraveling Over the Holidays

Genre: Fan Fiction

Pairing: Henry Cavill/OFC

Warnings: Fluff. Implied Pandemic world we live in

Rating: G

Length: Drabble

Disclaimer: a strict work of fiction, I own nothing except the original characters and the plot line. In no way am I affiliated to any of it.  

A/N: Inspired by the need to write more Henry and Nell, along with Henry’s latest IG post and here we have it. 

Henry Cavill Master List

“Almost have it, Wild Boy.” Henry announced looking into the abyss of the computer they were attempting to build.  This was their second this year, a true feat. Rarely did Henry and Ivan get the time to break down and rebuild their own systems. It was a welcome hobby, keeping them busy when there wasn't much else to do these days.

They had been working away on the project since breakfast. Frustrated mumbling and grunting seemed to be the only sounds coming from the other room. Nell listened, checking in on them from time to time, waiting for them to finish. Today was the day they were going to finally trim their Christmas tree. After days of waiting, it would finally be a sight to behold. Or as much a sight to behold as they could manage. All in all Nell felt that she decorated a pretty damn fine looking tree.

It was shortly after lunch, when Nell began to get annoyed. When she'd brought in a plate of sandwiches and asked her husband and son if they would be done soon, both had told her that they needed ten more minutes. Three hours and one boasting Instagram photo later...

“Dad, I think I have this backwards.” Ivan furrowed his brow staring at the piece that he was attempting to put in.

“Let me look.” Henry moved to take a closer inspection.

Not wanting the break anything, risking a costly repair. Ivan was learning fast and enjoyed working with his hands. More than that, he really enjoyed the uninterrupted time with his dad. “Not backwards, but the next slot over.” Instructing his son how to put the piece in properly.

Neither of them seeming to notice or care that Nell had drug out their boxes of Christmas decorations. Outside, she and Henry had strung lights in a few bushes and around their garden early in the month. Wanting to get it done in case they got an unexpected cold or worse. Inside Nell had put up her favourite battery operated candles, the old fashioned looking ones that stood in the windows. Every window in the farm house had a candle display. The kitchen had lights and a few decorations, the sitting room, the office, and even the bathrooms were ready.

All they needed was to get the tree decorated. Presents under a naked tree was plain wrong.

“Henry, Ivan.” Nell tapped her foot on the floor, her arms folded across her chest. Huffing at the two of them. She should have known better than to let them tear apart that damn computer this morning.

“I think she saw.” Ivan wasn't doing a very good job at whispering, his mother could hear him on the other side of the room. Nell rolled her eyes. Of course she had saw the photo, over 3,000 people had saw that photo and it had only taken five minutes.

“What is it, darling?” Henry leaned back in his chair, glancing over his shoulder at his wife. Smiling sweetly, his usual trick when he wanted to attempt getting out of something.

“Tree.” She gestured to the tree behind her.

“What about it? Is it too dry? Ivan, didn't I ask you to water that this morning?” Shaking his head, Henry glanced at his son.

“I did, dad.” Ivan huffed, holding the light at the perfect angle to see inside the box.

“Guys, can we please decorate this tree? It's been here since Sunday.”

“We'll get to it.”

“When? It's already Friday. Henry, we have had this in here for nearly a week. A naked, boring, lackluster tree.” Lecturing, Nell rubbed her temples, “Christmas is in a week! A week! This is the latest we have ever left the tree.”

Setting down his manual, Henry pushed his chair away from the desk, standing to observe the tree. He hadn't thought it was that big of a deal, they had gone last week and picked out the tree, Henry wasn't sure that this would be the final spot for the Christmas icon. Something Nell would assume was an excuse.

He should have taken the photo from the other side, oops. Had he not mentioned the bare tree to the world, his wife likely wouldn't have been making such a deal about it. Until now, Nell had been avoiding it as much as him and Ivan.

“Do you want to do it today?” Wrapping his arms around her waist, he kissed the back of her head. “The wild boy and I are more than happy to let you take over.”

If she wanted to decorate the tree, by herself, it would have been done hours ago.

“Nice try, but this was to be a family activity.” Nell furrowed her brow, huffing. “Why can't you stop fiddling with that damn box for twenty minutes?”

“I love you, Mrs. Cavill.” He knew exactly how to win this battle.

“Not working.”

“Worth a try,” Henry shrugged giving her a kiss on the cheek. Squeezing his arms tighter around his wife, he groaned. Caving to her whim. “I'm going to make us some cocoa, then we can get this tree decorated. Wild boy, help your mum get the decorations out, please.”

“Uh, no.” Shaking her head, Nell escaped his clutches. “I am going to make the cocoa,” gently tapping the tip of Henry's nose she grinned, “You and Ivan can untangle the lights. I have been asking you all week, get to work.”

Laying on the floor by the tree, Kal boofed and yawned. He had heard her asking multiple times over the week, but what could be do about it? Stretching, he stood cautiously to keep his wagging tail from smashing the tree. Nell really hated picking pieces of Christmas tree from his fur. Following her to the kitchen, he hurried when her steps approached the treat cupboard.

“You'd help me, wouldn't you bear?” Spotting her shadow, Nell smiled, tossing him a biscuit. “Honestly, those two are more and more difficult every year. I feel like I'm raising two children sometimes.”

Oh lovely, here she was, in the middle of the kitchen talking to the dog. Whatever, at least Kal would listen to her gripe. Pulling down a mug and two tumbler glasses, Nell set the kettle to boil and then picked up the bottle of Johnnie Walker that had appeared on the counter a few days ago. Likely a gift from someone.

One candy cane hot cocoa and two whiskey and rosemary sours, at the ready. In the other room, Nell could hear Ivan and Henry singing along to I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas. Loudly Ivan belted out the line about the hippo being a vegetarian, Henry swaying back and forth as he laughed and unraveled the lights. To Nell's credit, when she had put away their Christmas decorations the previous year, she had done a much nicer job than Henry.

“Looking good, gentlemen.” Complimenting their work, Nell smiled handing Ivan the cocoa. “Yours is on the tray,” she kissed Henry's cheek. “I decided to make use of the Johnnie Walker.” She winked.

Taking his drink, Henry smiled. “It's your bottle,”

“Mine? Did you buy it?” Nell sat on the floor beside Ivan, working at picking out more decorations.

“No, it came the other day. Some guy dropped it off, did you not read the card?” Henry laughed, joining his family on the floor. Nell shook her head. “Hold on,” He stood back up, groaning a little.

“Mum,” Ivan spoke pulling out another bundle of lights, “when the tree is done, can I watch a movie?”

“You don't want to help dad finish with the computer?” Sorting the other items in the box, Nell sat back on her heels reaching for her drink.

“I guess, but I think I'd like to watch a movie with you. If you have time.”

“For you, wild boy, I have all the time in the world.” Nell leaned over giving him a kiss on the head. Wrinkling his nose, Ivan brushed his hand over his dark curls, resetting them the way he liked them. “Which movie did you want to watch?”

“I don't know, we can find one.” Ivan worked away at the strand of lights, getting them ready to go on the tree, when Henry came back in. His mother wasn't tall enough to read the top, which meant his dad would have to start the lights.

Decorating the tree with his parents, the three of them, felt a little odd. For as long as Ivan could remember there was always a huge production to decorating their tree. This year was quiet, like most things throughout the year. They would be video calling family over Christmas Eve and Christmas Morning, instead of having them there in person. They were supposed to spend Christmas with the Stewart family this year, as sad as Ivan was to miss his trip he understood.

“Here you are,” Henry waved the small card around, crossing the floor to hand it to Nell.

One the outside was a fancy script, containing her name in gold lettering. Opening the small card, the kind one gets with a delivery of flowers, she admired the generic looking winter scene.

“To Nelly & Superman, Merry Xmas. May 2021 be better than whatever dumpster fire this is,” she read out loud, chuckling at the sentiment. “Love always, JPS. It's from Jordan.”

“How lovely, didn't he send one last year as well?”

“He did, but he sent that really nice Riesling.” Nell confirmed. Since Jordan hadn't been able to make it for the wedding, he'd sent the gift instead. “Along with the Ardbeg, for our wedding present.”

Henry nodded, he remembered drinking both vividly. Although he didn't get much of the Ardbeg, because Nell had deemed it off limits to anybody who wasn't her. Past and present gifts sorted and settled, Henry stood up with the first string of lights in hand. “I think it's time we get these on, what about you?”

“About time.” Sticking out her tongue, Nell pulled out the tinsel and a box of ornaments. “Gosh, Cavill, you have been taking forever.”

“Can't rush perfection, my darling.” Henry smirked, attaching the first string of soft white lights to the stout tree in the corner.

“Is that why we took so long?” Ivan teased helping his mother carefully lift ornaments from boxes.

“Of course.” Henry nodded, excusing his procrastination.  “You know, I do love this tree.”

“It is a lovely tree. It's the perfect size.” Nell agreed with her husband. “I'm glad that we didn't go with a monstrous tree this year.”

Henry and Ivan had a habit of going for the biggest tree in the lot. This year, Nell had put her foot down, demanding that they pick something reasonable.

“I thought you liked a big, thick one.” Snorting, Henry paused to watch Nell's reaction.

“You, stop.” She wagged her finger at him. “Wild boy, can you go over to that blue storage bin and get the crystal star, please?”

The tree topper had been a gift from Henry's parents, the first year she and Henry had “unofficially” lived together. Nell had used it every year since, upon Henry's insistence that she kept it. Their first Christmas married, last year, his mother had wanted to gift them a new one. Politely Nell had declined, saying that she loved the one they had. Although, she was more than happy to accept the matching ornament set that went with it, as a late Wedding present.

“I love this star,” Taking the carefully wrapped box from Ivan; Nell placed it safely out of the way of Kal and Cavills.

“Lights are on.” Henry happily announced, clapping his hands together. “What's next?”

“Tinsel and bows.” Ivan sprung up with a card of tinsel, waving it wildly at his father. “Can I help?”

“What if I put on the tinsel, while you tie on the bows?”

“Deal.” Ivan nodded grabbing the gold and silver bows that Nell had made. They would soon be in need of some new bows. “Mum, momma, mum.” he bounced, “Want to help?”

“Sure, you take the gold and I will take the silver?” Standing to join Ivan and Henry at the tree. Nell took the card of silver bows, carefully tying them on to the boughs of the tree.

Over the next half hour or so, their tree began to come to life. The soft colours adorning the vibrant green really stood out in the otherwise neutral room. Laughing and teasing one another, Henry grabbed Ivan around the waist, spinning him – a safe distance from the tree – while Kal danced around them barking excitedly. Nell watched them with joyful delight, after the year they had endured it was nice to see her husband and son still keeping their happiness.