#and i hope they know that i'm losing my mind over it

[h0efor2ho]

Tutoring Temptation

Wonwoo X Reader

WC - 6.1k ( I got carried away )

TW - Nerd!Wonwoo, there is plot here with the porn, fingering, oral (f), unprotected sex (wrap it kids) cream pie, Wonwoo is the sweetest ever.

You'v always been a pretty good student. Able to keep up a 3.6 gpa while still having a decent social life. That was till you entered advanced calculus in your second year of college. You just couldn't grasp it no matter how hard you tried to study. Your grades dropping down to a 3.2 gpa. Your parents threatening to pull you out of school if you don't get your shit together. "Stop partying and start studying" your mother said. So you did. Spending night after night reading your text book, looking over your notes. Turning down invitations to house parties. Even going as far as to record your class and watch it back later. That's when you noticed that the guy who sits in the front of the room seems to always raise his hand and always gets the answer right. The idea formed in your head right away. You'd ask him to tutor you. You desperately needed the help and you figured he knew what he was doing.

The next day you make your way to class early, waiting and looking as students file into the lecture hall. It doesn't take long before you see his head of dark hair enter the room and make a b-line for the front seat. You quickly make your was down the steps past people talking till your feet hit the bottom floor and turn to carry you right up to his chair. He's bent over, back angled toward you as he pulls things out of his bag. His shirt neatly tucked into his brown pants, with a blazer over it. He doesn't notice you at all. "Uhm hey..."

Shit, you dont even know his name. You try and think back to the videos from class, of your professor calling him by name when you raised his hand. You're drawing a blank. He spins in his chair, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he looks up at you. "Uhmm" you say again as you take in his features. He's not that bad looking for a nerd persay you think. "Wonwoo" he says snapping you out of your own thoughts. "huh" you ask.

"Wonwoo. My name. It's Wonwoo" he gives you a small smile. "Oh yea." you give him a small nervous laugh. "Sorry, I'm bad with names. I'm also really bad at calculus. Which is why I'm here bothering you. I was hoping maybe you could tutor me?" you finish rambling and give him what you hope is not a cringy smile. Wonwoo tilts his head slightly, considering your request. His dark eyes study you for a moment before he replies, "I see. And here I thought you might be asking me on a date," he quips, his voice low and unexpectedly smooth. You feel heat rise to your cheeks, caught off guard by his playful response. "Oh, uh, no... I mean, not that you're not... I just..." you stammer, mentally kicking yourself for suddenly losing your ability to form coherent sentences.

He chuckles softly, seemingly enjoying your flustered state. "Relax, I'm just teasing. I suppose I could help you out. When were you thinking?" Relief washes over you. "Really? That would be amazing. I'm free pretty much any evening. Whatever works best for you." He nods, pulling out a small planner from his bag. "How about tomorrow night at 7? We can meet at the library." "Perfect," you say, trying not to sound too eager. "Thank you so much, Wonwoo. I really appreciate it." He gives you another small smile. "No problem. Just make sure you bring your textbook and notes." You nod enthusiastically, about to respond when the professor walks in and calls the class to order. You quickly make your way back to your seat, heart beating a little faster than usual.

As you sit down, you can't help but glance down at Wonwoo. He's already focused on the professor, his pen poised over his notebook. You find yourself wondering what he's like outside of class. Is he always so composed? Does he ever let loose? The lecture begins, but your mind keeps drifting back to your upcoming tutoring session. You try to concentrate, scribbling down notes and formulas, but your thoughts are a jumble of calculus and curiosity about your new tutor. The rest of the day passes in a blur. You barely remember your other classes, your mind preoccupied with preparing for tomorrow night. That evening, you gather your calculus materials, making sure everything is organized and ready. You even jot down a list of specific questions and problem areas you want to address. That night, you toss and turn, your mind racing with thoughts of complex equations and Wonwoo's unexpected charm. When you finally drift off, your dreams are a bizarre mix of calculus symbols and dark, knowing eyes behind glasses.

The next day drags on endlessly. You constantly check the time, willing the hours to pass faster. When 6:30 finally rolls around, you grab your backpack and head to the library arriving early, claiming a quiet table in the back corner. As you spread out your materials, you can't help but feel a mix of excitement and anxiety. The sound of approaching footsteps makes you look up, and there's Wonwoo, looking as put-together as always in a navy sweater and dark jeans. "Right on time," you say, trying to sound casual. He smiles, sliding into the chair next to you. "I'm nothing if not punctual. So, where should we start?" For the next hour, Wonwoo patiently guides you through problem after problem. His explanations are clear and concise, and you find yourself grasping concepts that had previously made you struggle. As you work through a particularly tricky equation, you can't help but notice how close he's leaning in, his shoulder nearly touching yours as he points out a crucial step. You catch a whiff of his cologne – a subtle, woodsy scent that's surprisingly appealing.

"See? It's all about breaking it down into smaller parts," he explains, his voice low and close to your ear. You nod, trying to focus on the numbers and not on the warmth radiating from his body. As the session progresses, you find yourself relaxing, even joking with Wonwoo about some of the more absurd word problems in your textbook. His dry sense of humor surprises and delights you, and you catch yourself laughing more than you have in weeks "You know," he says, leaning back in his chair, "you're not half bad at this when you actually focus." You feel a flutter of pride at his words. "Thanks," you say, smiling. "I guess I just needed the right teacher." Wonwoo's eyes meet yours, and for a moment, you think you can see a spark of something behind his gaze. He clears his throat and glances at his watch. "We've been at this for almost two hours. Do you want to take a break?"

You nod, suddenly aware of how stiff your muscles feel from sitting hunched over your textbook. "Yeah, that sounds good.” Wonwoo smiles “Maybe we could grab a coffee? I know just the place," He says, standing up and stretching. You try not to stare as his sweater rides up slightly, revealing a sliver of skin above his waistband. You follow him out of the library and across campus to a small, cozy coffee shop tucked away in a corner you've never noticed before. As you step inside, the aroma of freshly ground coffee beans envelops you. The shop is dimly lit, with mismatched vintage furniture and local artwork adorning the walls. It's intimate and charming, nothing like the bustling campus coffee chains you usually frequent.

"This place is amazing," you say, taking it all in. "How have I never been here before?" Wonwoo smiles, a hint of pride in his eyes. "It's a bit of a hidden gem. I like to come here when I need to escape the chaos of campus life." You follow him to the counter, where a barista with long blonde hair greets Wonwoo by name. "The usual?" she asks, already reaching for a mug. "Please," he nods, then turns to you. "What would you like? Their lavender latte is excellent if you're feeling adventurous." "I'll try that then," you say, intrigued by his recommendation. As you reach for your wallet, Wonwoo waves you off. "My treat," he says. "Consider it payment for being such a good student today."

You feel a warmth spread through your chest at his gesture. "Thank you," you say, touched by his kindness. You follow Wonwoo to a cozy corner booth, sinking into the plush velvet seats. The soft glow of Edison bulbs hanging overhead casts a warm light across his features, softening the sharp angles of his face. You notice  things about him you hadn't before. Like a small scar just above his left eyebrow, and the fact that is hair is not black but a very dark shade of brown. "So," you say, breaking the comfortable silence, "What made you decide to major in math? I mean, you're clearly good at it, but there must be a story there." Wonwoo looks at you, a thoughtful expression on his face. "It's always just made sense to me, you know? There's a beauty in the logic of it all. Plus," he adds with a wry smile, "it impresses people at parties."

You laugh, surprised by his humor. "I can imagine. Though I have to admit, I've never been to a party where calculus was the main topic of conversation." Wonwoo's eyes twinkle with amusement. "Then you're clearly going to the wrong parties. What about you? What's your major?" "Psychology," you reply. "Interesting," Wonwoo muses. "So you're studying the complexities of the human mind while I'm dealing with the complexities of mathematics." You're struck by his observation, realizing there's more depth to Wonwoo than you initially thought.

As you talk, you find yourself opening up about your struggles with calculus, your fears of disappointing your parents. Wonwoo listens intently, his dark eyes focused on you. When you finish, he leans forward slightly. "I understand that pressure," he says softly. "It's not easy living up to others' expectations." There's a vulnerability in his voice that surprises you. For a moment, you see past the composed exterior to someone who might be struggling with his own doubts and insecurities. "How do you do it?" you ask. "How do you make it all look so effortless?" Wonwoo's lips quirk into a half-smile. "Trust me, it's not effortless. I just... I've learned to channel my anxiety into my work. But sometimes, I wonder if I'm missing out on other aspects of college life."

You're about to respond when the barista approaches with your drinks. She sets down two steaming mugs, the rich, floral scent of lavender rising from your cup. You give Wonwoo a quick glance, and he nods in thanks, offering a soft smile. "Here you go," the barista says before retreating behind the counter. You wrap your hands around the warm mug, feeling the heat seep into your palms, a comforting contrast to the coolness of the evening. "Thanks for the coffee," you say again, the warmth in your chest spreading. "This place really is great. Perfect for getting away from everything." Wonwoo nods, taking a slow sip from his own drink. He seems more relaxed here, away from the chaos of the main campus. "Yeah, it's one of my favorite spots. Feels like a little slice of calm." His eyes flicker to you briefly, an unreadable look in them before he shifts slightly in his seat, settling back.

For a few moments, the two of you sit in comfortable silence, the ambient hum of the café filling the gaps between your conversation. You take a sip of your lavender latte, savoring the sweet, floral taste, feeling oddly at peace. "So," Wonwoo finally breaks the silence, his voice a little softer now. "You mentioned earlier that you're majoring in psychology. What made you choose that?" You think for a moment, your fingers tracing the rim of your cup. "I guess I’ve always been curious about what makes people tick," you say. "Why we do the things we do, how we make decisions, how we deal with emotions... There's just so much to learn, you know? It feels like there's always something new to discover." Wonwoo listens, his gaze thoughtful, and you can tell he's really taking in your words. "It’s interesting," he murmurs, "how you’re trying to understand people while I’m trying to make sense of... numbers. There’s something kind of poetic about it."

You smile, surprised at how well he understands. "I guess we're not so different after all, huh?" He chuckles lightly, leaning back into his chair. "Seems like it." His eyes meet yours for a brief second, a spark of something flickering in them. "You know, I didn’t take you for a psych major, no offense. It's just the only thing I knew about you before tonight was that you partied a lot. You chuckle, a little embarrassed. “Yea, I guess I gave off that vibe before I got serious about school,” you admit, feeling a bit sheepish. “I always had a good time, but I’ve definitely been focusing more lately. Trying to get things back on track. Your parents threatening to pull you from school does that to you" Wonwoo nods in understanding, his expression thoughtful. "It's good that you're figuring things out. College can be a balancing act. But you seem like the kind of person who doesn’t give up easily. I think you’ll get there."

His words, simple but encouraging, make you feel a little lighter, like the weight of everything isn't so heavy anymore. "I hope so," you say, taking another sip of your latte. "Honestly, it’s nice to talk to someone who gets it. I feel like I’ve been caught up in my own head lately, especially with everything going on at home." Wonwoo's eyes soften at your words. "You don’t have to carry it all on your own, you know. It’s okay to lean on people." He pauses, then adds, almost as an afterthought, "And sometimes it’s okay to take a break too." You look at him, really look at him for the first time since you’ve sat down, and for the first time, you notice that there’s more to him than just the quiet, reserved guy who aces every class. There’s a quiet strength in him, a kind of stability that draws you in.

"Thanks, Wonwoo. I really appreciate everything," you say, your voice sincere. He smiles again, the corners of his eyes crinkling slightly, and for a second, you can’t help but feel a little spark of something more between the two of you. Something you can’t quite place but that feels strangely warm and comfortable. "Anytime," he replies, his voice low and steady. "And hey, don’t worry. You’ll figure out calculus. But if you ever need someone to talk to... about anything else, I’m here." You smile, feeling a little flutter of gratitude. "I think I just might take you up on that."

The two of you sit there for a while longer, enjoying your drinks and the quiet atmosphere of the café, talking about everything from school to silly memories to your favorite music. You realize how easy it is to talk to him, how comfortable you feel in his presence. And even though you’re still not sure what exactly is happening between you two, you can’t deny that something is starting to change.  As the night grows later, the cafe begins to empty out, and you both realize it's getting late. You stand up, gathering your things, and Wonwoo does the same. "Thanks for the coffee," you say again, a little reluctantly. "And for everything tonight. I feel like I actually get calculus now." You grin.

Wonwoo smirks, clearly pleased. "I’m glad I could help. Just don’t expect me to tutor you every night. I have my own assignments too." He says it with a teasing tone, but you can tell he’s enjoying this new dynamic between you. “I’ll take that as a challenge,” you reply, grinning back. "I hope you do." He replies as he opens the door for you. As you both step out into the cool night air, you feel a sense of warmth linger between you, something subtle but unmistakable. The evening was a nice break from the grind of school, but there’s also this growing sense that maybe, just maybe, you’ve stumbled upon something more than just a tutoring session.

As you walk together back to campus, the conversation flows easily, the chemistry between you two undeniable. Wonwoo’s witty remarks and insightful comments seem to draw you in further, and you can’t help but find yourself eagerly looking forward to the next time you’ll see him, even though you try to play it cool. “So, same time tomorrow?” you ask, trying to sound casual but failing to hide the excitement bubbling underneath. Wonwoo turns to you, a half-smile playing at the corner of his lips. “I think we can make that happen. But how about we meet at my dorm, I expect you to bring your A-game,” he teases, nudging you playfully with his shoulder “Deal,” you breath out.

The next day feels like it stretches on forever as you go through the motions of your classes, but your mind keeps drifting back to Wonwoo. The way he helped you the night before, the casual banter, and that lingering smile — it all replayed in your head in a loop. Something about him made everything seem easier, not just calculus, but the world in general. When evening finally rolls around, you find yourself feeling oddly nervous, though you try to brush it off as you gather your notes and make your way to his dorm. Your heart beats a little faster as you walk, the excitement of yesterday's conversation still fresh in your mind. 

As you approach the dorm, you see Wonwoo waiting outside, leaning casually against the brick wall, his arms crossed talking to Mingyu, the quarterback on the football team. He’s wearing a simple white tee shirt and gray sweatpants, his usual composed demeanor softer, somehow more approachable in this setting. When he sees you, he straightens up and gives you a smile that makes your stomach flutter, before dismissing himself from their conversation. You watch as Mingyu walks away as Wonwoo walks to you.

“Ready for round two?” he asks, a playful glint in his eye. You laugh, feeling the tension melt away. “I’m ready. Let’s do this.” You glance at his outfit. "Glad we chose casual attire today" you poke at him. He chuckles rubbing the back of his neck. "Yea I just got out of the shower, I was at the gym with Mingyu." You make your was up the flight of stairs. "I didn't realize you two were friends." You say as you follow him. "Yea we grew up together. He's the closest thing I have to a brother." As you step inside his dorm, it’s clear this isn’t your typical college living situation. The space is surprisingly neat and organized, with a few bookshelves lining the walls and a desk cluttered with notebooks and textbooks, but in a controlled way, as if it was a deliberate mess. There’s a sense of order to it, just like him. You hang up your sweater on the coat hook, take off your shoes, and take a seat on his bed. Wonwoo follows you into the room, his footsteps quiet on the carpeted floor. He grabs his textbook from his desk and then turns to face you. There’s a small, amused smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he observes you settling in on his bed. 

“You sure look like you’re comfortable there?” he asks, his tone teasing but still warm. He walks over and climbs up on the bed with you, close to you. "Comfortable?" he teases, raising an eyebrow. You smirk, leaning back slightly on your hands. "Very. I figured if I’m going to suffer through calculus, I might as well do it in comfort." Wonwoo chuckles, shaking his head before sitting down beside you, placing the textbook between you both. "Alright, let’s get started then. No distractions this time." You nod, but it’s hard to ignore the fact that you’re sitting this close to him, the warmth of his body radiating next to you. You force yourself to focus as he starts explaining derivatives, his voice calm and patient.

The study session goes smoothly at first, but as the minutes tick by, you find yourself more aware of the way Wonwoo’s fingers move as he writes out equations, the slight crease in his brow when he’s thinking, the way his lips curve ever so slightly when he glances at you to check if you’re following along. At one point, you get stuck on a problem, groaning in frustration. "I swear, calculus was invented just to torture people." Wonwoo laughs, leaning in slightly as he looks over your work. "You're overcomplicating it. Look—" His hand brushes against yours as he reaches for your pencil, his touch brief but enough to send a tiny spark through you. You glance at him, and for a second, neither of you says anything. The air between you shifts, something unspoken lingering in the silence. He leans in slightly, eyes tracking your face. "It's all about perspective," he murmurs, his voice low and unexpectedly close. He's still holding your pencil, his fingers brushing against yours, and the simple act feels charged with an energy you can't quite explain. You can smell his cologne again, that same subtle, woodsy scent from the coffee shop, and it’s intoxicatingly distracting.

He doesn't pull away, and neither do you. The textbook lies forgotten between you, the complex equations blurring into meaningless symbols. His gaze flickers down to your lips, then back up to your eyes, and you can see a flicker of something in the depths of his dark pupils – something that mirrors the nervous excitement fluttering in your chest. "You know," he says, his voice barely a whisper, "I never would have guessed you were so… focused." The word hangs in the air, loaded with a double meaning. You know he's not just talking about calculus anymore. "Focused?" you echo, your voice equally soft. He nods, his eyes still locked on yours. "Yeah. You seem… different than I expected." "Different how?" you ask, your heart pounding against your ribs. He hesitates for a moment, as if considering his words carefully. "More… intense. More… interesting."

A blush creeps up your neck, but you don't look away. You're mesmerized by him, by the way the light catches his glasses, by the slight furrow in his brow that suggests he's just as nervous as you are. "I could say the same about you," you reply, finally finding your voice. "I thought you were just… a genius. Turns out you're also… interesting." He chuckles softly, the sound sending shivers down your spine. "Is that so?" You nod, unable to articulate the thoughts swirling through your head. You're acutely aware of the proximity of your bodies, the way your thighs are almost touching, the warmth radiating from him. The air crackles with unspoken tension, and you have the distinct feeling that something is about to change between you two.

He leans in closer, his breath warm against your skin. "Maybe�� maybe we should take a break from calculus," he whispers, his eyes searching yours. You swallow hard, your pulse quickening. "A break?" He nods, his gaze dropping to your lips again. "Yea. A break." He doesn't need to say anything else. You know exactly what he means. The calculus book slips off the bed and falls to the floor with a soft thud, unnoticed by either of you. His hand reaches out, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear. His touch is feather-light as it lingers in your hair, sending a jolt of electricity through you.

"Is this okay?" he murmurs, his voice husky. You nod, your own voice lost somewhere in the sudden rush of adrenaline. "More than okay," you manage to say. That's all the confirmation he needs. His lips are soft when they meet yours, a tentative touch at first, as if he's testing the waters. But the kiss quickly deepens, becoming more urgent, more passionate. His hand moves from your hair to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, and you instinctively reach up, your fingers tangling in his hair. The kiss grows more urgent, more heated, and before you know it, you’re lying back against his mattress, Wonwoo hovering over you. His glasses are slightly askew, his breathing uneven, and the sight of him like this—disheveled and undone because of you— sends a thrill through you.

“Are you sure about this?” he asks, voice low, gaze searching yours. You nod, your fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt. “Yes. I want this. I... I want you” He kisses you again, a searing kiss that leaves no room for doubt. His hand finds its way under your shirt, his touch sending shivers down your spine. You arch into him, your own hands exploring the contours of his back, feeling the rapid beat of his heart against yours. His lips trail down your jawline, his breath hot against your skin, and you can't help the small moan that escapes your lips as he nuzzles your neck, his teeth gently grazing your skin, and you gasp, clutching him tighter.

Your hands slide up under his shirt, your hands flat against the muscles of his back. It's not long before his mouth reaches the collar of your shirt. He pulls back, sitting on his knees as he looks down at you. "Can I take this off?" he asks breathlessly pulling on the bottom of your shirt. You eagerly shake your head yes "Please" you say. His hands make quick work of pulling your shirt off over your head, his hand coming down and sliding under your back. His hand gripping the clasp of your bra. "This too?" he ask's as his lips ghost over yours. You kiss him in response. His hand move quickly, undoing your bra before he pulls back from the kiss. 

He gently removes your bra, his eyes darkening with desire as they rake over your exposed skin. The cool air brushes against you, making you shiver with anticipation. He leans in, his lips finding your skin again. His hands roam over yourbody, his touch setting you on fire. You gasp as his teeth graze your neck, the sensation sending waves of pleasure through you. He pulls back slightly, his gaze intense as he takes in your flushed skin. "You're so beautiful," he murmurs, his voice husky. His hands slide down your sides, gripping your hips as he presses himself against you, the evidence of his desire hard against your stomach. You moan softly, arching into him, wanting more.

Your hands gripping the hem of his shirt and tug. "Off" you say breathlessly. "As you wish" he says, pulling his shirt over his head and revealing his sculpted chest and abs. The evadence of those work outs with Mingyu. Your hands immediately explore the hard planes of his muscles, earning a low groan from him. He captures your lips again. His lips trail down your neck, leaving a hot, wet path to your collarbone. You arch your back, craving more contact. His hand slides down your stomach, slipping beneath the waistband of your pants. You gasp at the intimate touch, your hips rising to meet him. His fingers find your core, already slick with desire. He groans your name, the sound sending a thrill through you.

He coats his fingers in your wetness before finding your clit. With deliberate strokes, his eyes locked on yours, watching your reactions. You writhe beneath him, your breaths coming in short, sharp gasps. "Please," you beg, your voice barely a whisper. He smirks, his touch becoming more insistent, pushing you closer to the edge. You grip the sheets, your body tensing as the pleasure builds. He leans down, his lips finding yours again, swallowing your moans as you shatter around him, waves of ecstasy crashing over you. He pulls back, his eyes dark with lust as he watches you come undone. He grips the top of your leggings, pulling down both them and your underwear in one swift motion till they are a heap on the floor.

 His hand moves lower, slipping two fingers inside you. You cry out at the sudden feeling, your walls clenching around him. He pumps his fingers slowly, curling them to hit that soft spot deep inside you. Your back arches off the bed, your hands gripping his sheets as he drives you wild. "More," you plead, your voice ragged. He slowly, adding a third finger and increasing the pace. The sound of your wetness fills the room, mingling with your moans and his groans. He leans down, capturing your nipple in his mouth, sucking and biting gently. The sensation of both pushes you over the edge again, your body convulsing as you come undone around his fingers.

He doesn't stop, continuing to thrust his fingers as you ride out your orgasm. Your vision blurs, pleasure coursing through you. He pulls his fingers out, bringing them to his lips and tasting you. The sight sends a fresh wave of heat through you. He moves down your body, spreading your legs wide. His tongue replaces his fingers, licking and sucking your clit. You scream his name, your hands fisting in his hair as he drives you higher. His tongue lapping at your wet entrance,  his fingers gripping your thighs as he devours you.

He looks up at you, his eyes filled with desire as he continues his assault on your senses. His tongue circles your clit, teasing and tormenting you. You can't hold back any longer, your body tensing as another orgasm crashes over you. He doesn't let up, not even when the tears start to flow. 

He finally pulls away, his lips slick with your arousal. He moves back up your body, his hard length pressing against your thigh. "How are you doing?" he ask's, concern shining in his eyes. "I need you to take then off now" you say as you push the waist of his sweats down his hips. He gives you a small chuckle before standing up and pulling his pants down. Your eyes widen at the site of his huge cock. This long and thick and has a head the prettiest shade of pink that currently is driping pre cum. He climbs baack ontop of you, pepering kisses along your skin till he meets your mouth again. 

You reach down, wrapping your hand around him and stroking slowly. He groans, breaking the kiss, his forehead resting against yours as he tries to regain control. But you're not done with him yet. You guide him to your entrance, "Please Wonwoo" you moan. With one smooth thrust, his cock is deep inside you. You let out a moan from deep in your throat as your eyes slam shut. He still's. "Hey, hey. Open your eyes  for me baby" he coos down at you. His hands pushing your hair out of the way, cupping your face. You peel your eyes open, finding his right above you. "Are you okay?" He ask's sweetly. Your chest filling with warmth. "Yea" you whisper out. "Do you want me to stop?" He starts to raise up on his arms. "NO" you say gripping onto his arms to stop him. "I just needed a minute to adjust. Your big Wonwoo" you watch as a blush creeps across his face, joined by a smile. 

"You are going to be the death of me aren't you" he laughs "And you will be for me if you dont move" you push your hips forward to get your point across, instantly regretting it as you feel him nudge inside of you. A moan slipping from both of your mouths. In response he starts to move his hips. Slow and cautious at first, but your sounds quickly spur him on. He picks up the pace, growing more confidant as he watches you chant his name with each thrust. Your hands gripping the sheets to keep yourself grounded as the coil in your stomach tightens. Wonwoo leans down, pressing soft, lingering kisses along your jaw, his breath warm against your skin. "You feel so good," he whispers, his voice rough. His fingers lace with yours, pinning them beside your head as he thrusts into you. The room filled with the wet sounds of his hips meeting yours, your small gasps and moans and his grunts every time you tighten around him. 

"Wonwoo," you whimper, your back arching as the pleasure coils tighter inside you. He presses his forehead to yours, his lips brushing against yours as he murmurs, "I’ve got you, baby." His thrusts grow deeper, more deliberate, hitting that perfect spot. Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer, desperate to feel every inch of him. "You’re amazing," he breathes against your lips, his voice trembling as he fights to make this last. But the way you feel around him, it's unraveling his control. His free hand trails down your body, tracing over the curve of your waist before slipping between you, finding your clit and making  your breath hitch. He starts with tight pressured circles. "Wonwoo, I—" Your voice breaks as you're vaulted over the edge. Your wall tightening around him as you release all over his cock. His movements turning erratic as he chases his own release behind you, burying hims cock deep inside you as he shudders with pleasure. Spilling deep inside you. 

His body collapses onto of you, staying buried deep in you. He presses gentle kisses along your jaw, his touch now featherlight, a stark contrast to the intensity from moments ago. "You okay?" he murmurs, his fingers tracing soothing patterns on your hip. You nod, a blissful smile stretching across your face. "More than okay." He chuckles softly, rolling onto his side and pulling you against his chest. His arms wrap around you, holding you close as if afraid to let you go. You listen to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, feeling safe, cherished. "I have something to tell you" he says as he kisses the top of your head. "okay" you say hesitantly, fear creeping into your mind at what it could be. 

"I have had a little crush on you for a long time now." He says voice just above a whisper. "But I'v been to scared to ever approach you. Afraid you wouldn't want to be with someone like me" Your breath catches at his confession, your heart squeezing in your chest. You pull back just enough to look up at him, your fingers tracing soft patterns over his chest. "Wonwoo," you whisper, his name a gentle reassurance on your lips.

His eyes flicker with vulnerability, a rare sight that makes your heart ache. "I didn't know how to approach you. You were always hanging out with the popular kids." he says "it felt like we were in two different worlds." You look up at him thinking back to just last week and you could see how that could be. "Well we're not anymore" you say kissing his chest. He laughs "Your right, so if I were to say ask you out on a date this weekend, your answer would be?"

You grin up at him, your fingers still tracing lazy circles against his skin. "I’d say yes," you murmur, watching as relief washes over his face, quickly replaced by the softest smile you've ever seen from him. "Yea?" he asks, as if he can’t quite believe it. You nod, tilting so your face is closer to his. "Yes, Wonwoo. A thousand times yes." you ghost your lips over his. His arms tighten around you, pulling you flush against him. He presses a lingering kiss to your forehead, then your nose, before finally capturing your lips in a slow, tender kiss. It’s different from before. Less urgency, more depth. Like he’s trying to memorize the way you taste, the way you fit against him. When he pulls back, his eyes shine with something deeper than just desire. "Guess I should start planning the perfect first date, then," he says with a soft chuckle.

You smile, nuzzling into his chest. "Yea I guess you should."

Dividers by @strangergraphics

[lesbianherald]

Bee, I just wanted to let you know, I've been rereading Coming Home and I've been able to appreciate it more this time around. I'm thankful for that.

I just finished reading chapter 3 and I gotta say, I fully sobbed during the flashback scene. The emotions described felt so raw to me, it caught me off guard to be crying while reading it considering this didn't happen the first time. I like to think I'm no longer running on dopamine over Arcane which helped me appreciate everything going on more carefully.

You're a magnificent writer and I hope you know that. Your understanding of these characters is something very special to me. Thank you infinitely for writing such a beautiful story, I'm waiting anxiously for the next one.

waaaaaaaaahhhhh ! this is so so kind oh my gosh. It means the world it truly does. It's so hard to put into words how much messages like this mean to me but just know thank you ! so motivating.

so glad you like my take on them. so glad you're looking forward to the next.

the end of chapter 3 is definetly when I started losing my mind a bit, but I also think that's when I started kind of getting into the rhythm of the story maybe lol. there's a definite noticeable shift I think. i was really nervous about it. i got incredibly close to not posting it. so the fact that that's where most people say they started enjoying it means a lot.

its been a very hard few days so thank you for this.

[blade-liger-4ever]

Relationship Analysis: Moonwatcher Should Have Gotten Winter Instead of Qibli

Boy, been a while since I did one of these posts, huh?

I know, I'm late to the party. The books have long since ended, and in such a way that I (regrettably) got rid of my favorite one in the franchise, Winter Turning. However, I've had many thoughts about Moon's endgame relationship which, while handled poorly, was not ideal from the beginning at all.

Sit down and prepare yourselves readers, for I have bottled this up for far too long.

The unhealthy relationship with Qibli

This will get many a fan irate, for Qibli was outwardly nothing but kind, loyal, and supportive of Moonwatcher during the second arc. However, despite this disposition, inside, Qibli was an emotionally destroyed dragon - to the point that even in Moon Rising, he literally thought in ways to make people like him.

Now I feel for Qibli. His mother beat him like a drum for the smallest of mistakes, his siblings tried to kill him repeatedly, and for reasons beyond my total understanding of how this fit into the plot because of how poorly executed it was, his grandfather was hoping to groom him as his criminal successor. None of this is good treatment for anyone, fictional or real. However, because this effectively broke Qibli, he was left desperately craving love and validation for his worth as an individual.

I kid you not, it's confirmed in-universe that Thorn unwittingly earned his entire devotion by simply complementing him. One sentence, said in earnest but without much thought to his background - and Qibli would have done anything to keep gaining such affirmations, which he did.

Furthermore, it's not just Thorn's love he wants.

It's that of the world.

Qibli spends the entire books doing everything in his power to do whatever it takes to get love, or even platonic affection, from the dragons around him. If it means being silly or serious, he'll transform into that type of dragon to get it. Even going to Jade Mountain Academy was done because disobeying Thorn would run the risk of losing her affection, which Qibli is desperate to maintain. And when he meets the pretty, naïve to the world Moonwatcher, who has no life experience and wants to see the good in everyone, he falls for her because of a few reasons: one is that he recognizes she won't hurt him, and another is her natural sweetness is something new to him.

So he observes and trails after her like a lost puppy looking for scraps of love to eat.

This is where it gets unhealthy because Qibli, though well-meaning, begins to see her less as an individual dragon with individual worth, and more like a goddess of perfection that he can't live without. No joke, every two chapters of Darkness of Dragons (and not to mention the snippets of his mind we see in Book 6), Qibli does nothing but pine after Moon while bemoaning how he's practically worthless unless she sees value in him, thereby encouraging him to do anything to earn her love. This makes him put Moon on a pedestal of perfection that is above all worldly things and will make him do anything to keep her in the box he's ascribed to her lest she prove she's not all he believes her to be and thus necessitating his reason for living. And because Moon, due to wanting to believe her father figure Darkstalker is actually good and trying to make the world better, basically asks both her admirers to reject reality as she has in order to not grow up and face the truth: that Darkstalker is evil and must be stopped, no matter how personally painful it is.

And as expected, Qibli chooses pleasing her over doing the right thing in this matter because if he denies Moon this, she will not chose him. And he will lose the perfect goddess he envisions and crawl up and die in the desert because, without her validation, he has no reason to do anything but cease living.

This is unhealthy because it traps Moon in a relationship that keeps her from maturing and learning that evil does exist alongside the good in the world. Couples can be silly at times and have fun, but not to the point of regressing into childishness. This is what happens to Moon, and Qibli will never tell her no for fear of losing his perfect deity.

The healthy relationship with Winter.

Yes, Winter was far from kind to Moon in their first few interactions. He threatened her, yes. He yelled at her, yes. He didn't trust her, yes.

But name a time he raised a talon against her. A time where he viewed himself as nothing without her approval.

Additionally, Winter had good reasons for withholding his trust from her. The amount of times Moon hid things from him, unintentionally blindsiding him with this knowledge when he'd thought she'd just proved to be different from other NightWings - how would you react? Be honest, because if a man hid that he was a mind reader and seer from me throughout our friendship, hid that he was on friendly terms with an ancient bane of my people (and who posed a threat to the whole world), I'd have serious issues with him, too.

Now, Winter was abused similarly to Qibli - however, it was mental and emotional abuse, which forced him to grow up and see how their treatment of him, while "normal" among IceWing extremists, was still wrong. He knew this because his friend Lynx was treated well by her lesser noble house, and he recognized quite quickly that even the "evil NightWings" took as much care with their dragonets as any other mother IceWing would. This made him think, and after seeing how genuinely nice and steadfast in her beliefs Moon was, it allowed Winter to become openminded and grow out of his abuse and the views he'd been forced to swallow.

This is made better by the fact that, while his thoughts often drifted toward Moon, he didn't make her the center of his world, or consider breaking his moral principles just to earn her affection. Because at the penultimate moment of dealing with Darkstalker, yes, Winter is rightly traumatized from having his whole personality rewritten (and likely hurt that Moon is uncharacteristically unbothered by this), but he won't please her with rejecting reality. Doing so would mean making a relationship easier, but Winter isn't thinking just about what they could have.

He's thinking about how many lives would be lost if he did so, and how much danger she will put herself in if he agrees.

And despite having that opportunity - that opportunity to have a relationship with Moon, to finally get his heart's desire to be with her - Winter says, "No. It's wrong, and I can't do that, even if it's what you really want."

Winter will not compromise himself and do the wrong thing for her, nor will he allow her to live with the dangerous misconception that the world is full of rainbows and unicorns, that nothing is ever wrong.

This is why Winter is the genuinely healthy choice for Moonwatcher. He seeks not to please the world, to bend to evil, and he does not manipulate in order to gain love. Because while he does have his own craving for love, Winter recognizes that very few people will actually gift him with it. He makes his peace with that, and chooses good over evil because he'd rather lose the world than lose love that he can - and has - lived without.

He won't trap Moon in a fantasy, but help her grow into adulthood and recognition of the beauty and ugliness of the world around them.

(Not my art.)

These are my thoughts on which dragon is worthier of Moon. I hoped you liked it, and that it got some of you thinking.

Take care, and see you in the skies!

[partially-controlled-chaos]

Snippet Sunday

Still plagued by the Lucanis brainworm and it's angsty this time. I'm absolutely obsessed with his line of "I thought I lost you. All I had left was the fight." So, because we're not given a canon sequence of events that eventually got Rook out of the Fade prison, I've got my own little take on it. Angsty Lucanis completely shutting down and focusing on murder while Rook is gone. This isn't edited and may change as I write more for it, but this is what I've worked up so far. This is a Lucanis and f!Rook piece, but there's nothing descriptive about the Rook other than being female. So origin and appearance are a complete blank slate.

The knife sliced through the throat of a Venatori mage cleanly, the fresh wound spurting blood as the body hit the ground with a muffled thump. The magic the mage had begun to cast fizzled and died with the host, the residual magic lingering in the air made Lucanis’s eyes burn and itch. He ignored the feeling as he wiped his blade clean on Venatori robes, inspecting the sharpness with a quick glance before sheathing it back in the holster strapped to his hip. The soles of his boots squelched against the various pools of blood that had begun to mix with mud as he stepped over body after body, each step heavy and purposeful. 

He was quickly slicing his way through the remnants of Venatori soldiers that lingered in Arlathan Forest after so many had been sacrificed for Elgar’nan’s archdemon, not that he minded. The only good Venatori was a dead one and he had plenty of knives and revenge to go around. No blood mage would leave this forest alive as long as he still could take a breath and the promise of watching each members of this demented cult gasp and die by his blade was the only thing that kept him going lately. The toe of his boot had just touched the first stone step in a winding staircase when he heard a small sound caught his attention. 

Lucanis stopped as he heard the gurgle of another Venatori, eyes glancing the field as he searched for the soon to be corpse. He quickly spotted the dying man clutching at patches of grass in an attempt to escape, slowly crawling towards a discarded mage staff. His fingers wrapped around the hilt of his blade as he stomped towards the dying mage, preparing to drive the dangerously sharp blade through the base of his skull when an arrow zipped through the air from the direction he was heading. The arrow struck the Venatori in the temple, quickly ending his struggling as he died with a sigh.

“Not fair!” Spite’s voice mixed with Lucanis’s in an irritated snarl, “Took. Our. Kill!”

“Sorry, Lucanis!” Bellara shouted as she jogged across the battle field to join him, also stepping over fallen bodies, “I didn’t know you were going for him. You know, you don’t have to kill them all. Everyone here is also capable.” She gave him a sympathetic smile, but was only met with a cold, emotionless glance.

“It’s my job.” Lucanis said cooly, clicking the knife back into place. 

“O-oh, right.” Bellara stuttered as her smile broke, “Master assassin, of course.” 

Lucanis stood in silence next to Bellara as she pulled the arrow from the corpse, slinging the blood from the tip before dismissing the weapon with a wave of her hand. Both bow and arrow disappeared in a shimmer of magic, further irritating the sensation that never seemed to leave the backside his eyes. He screwed his eyes shut and pressed against his eyelids firmly with his forefinger and thumb, hoping the bit of pressure would be enough to alleviate the discomfort until he could return to the Lighthouse.

“You should get back to Emmrich.” He said while pinching the bridge of his nose, “Don’t worry about me.”

“He’s just up ahead,” Bellara said softly, “but we shouldn’t get separated. We can’t afford to lose anyone else.” He bit back the urge to argue with her. Instead, he gave a curt nod and extended his hands towards the stone staircase, ushering her to lead the way to the necromancer. 

Bellara took the lead with quick steps, her hands folded neatly in front of her as she marched her way up the stairs. Lucanis followed begrudgingly, not ready to face the false sense of hope they desperately clung to. Although he hated to admit it, Bellara was right. The team had already far too many members already and he couldn’t shake the guilt that ate away at his heart each night. 

Harding was dead; pierced and impaled on the disgustingly blighted tentacles of Ghilan’nain and thrown into an oozing, pulsating pile of blight because he’d tried to strike against the god too soon. Neve was gone and more than likely dead at this point. She’d been snatched by Elgar’nan weeks ago in an attempt to break down blood magic wards. He should have sensed the trap. He should have been able to save her. Lucanis shook his head at the thought. He couldn’t afford anymore mistakes. He couldn’t allow his emotions to get in the way of completing the contract.

Think nothing. Feel nothing.

“It’ll work this time, Lucanis.” Bellara said once she reached the halfway point of the staircase, her voice breaking though his brooding, “It has to work.”

“Bellara.” He said sharply, not wanting to hear yet another attempt at an uplifting speech.

“You just have to keep the faith.” Bellara ignored his warning and continued anyway, although he had a feeling it was more for her sake than his, “Have faith that this time we’ve found the right route. Faith that the dagger will work and not just fizzle a little bit like the last time and that we can pierce the Veil just enough and in the right spot and at the right time and that we’ll find Ro-” She was rambling. She was always rambling.

“Bellara!” Lucanis shouted, stopping in place on the steps and forcing his eyes closed at the surge of emotion, “…Please.” The last word came out as a broken whisper, his voice threatening to break and crack at the simple mention of that name. Her name. Bellara stopped as well, taking a step or two down until she was close enough to reach. She placed a single hand on his shoulder and squeezed.

“I know it’s hard, Lucanis, but you can’t give up hope.” Her voice was strained as if she was holding back tears of her own, “We’ll find her. We’ll find Rook.” He took a deep inhale through his nose, holding his breath for a long while before finally releasing.

“Emmrich,” he said after taking a moment, “we need to get to Emmrich.”

[iersei]

endlessly entertained by the fact that i was deathly afraid of engaging with the tumblr dndads fandom at large for months for fear of being Perceived and now. for hot glenn autumn. i've effectively thrown all that out the window. kicked the door down and shouted at everyone who will listen hey does anyone wanna know how badly i want to FUCK this old man

[the-fallen-aesthetics]

[Manifesting their dual alters with this image in a future event, please HG-]

All jokes aside, it's finally done!

Pixiv Link (w sketches) || Bluesky Link

PNG version and video process below :]

[mochindayo]

Oh, So much cat fur || L/A/DS Z/ayne x MC

I made an ao3 a bit ago. I've been a lurker on there since...idk...years, but. I'm going to uhh...i think post fics there too haha. may or may not see some crossposting. i'm being wild and it's also going to have regular fics (haha, that is if i decide i'm writing in the first place xD) there's one snz fic and one vanilla fic right now lol. Am i nervous? sure, but like- also i've lost it, idk. here we are. anyways. I'm so into LADS rn. here we are. i want to write more, but i always say that, write one thing, and disappear for another 5 months. maybe i'll change, who knows. I’m taking advantage of my motivation while I’ve got it rn

the portal, to...a fic in my ao3 lol. but i'll also put the fic here under the cut...because..why not?

Zayne, sneezing, because little kitty Zayne is choking on his own fur!!?? HUH!? OK SIR!?

======================

Zayne was always a neat and orderly person. It irked him that he was the cause of the copious amount of cat hair that was beginning to collect–on him and his furniture. 

Ever since the bizarre event that had left him with cat ears and a long, fluffy tail, he had been doing his best to maintain his cleanliness. This was lasting longer than he had wistfully hoped. 

He was shedding everywhere. 

The elegant strands of his midnight fur that adorned his cat features had begun piling up, turning his couch and sheets a grayish hue. He practically ate cat hair with every meal now. If anyone had a pet that shed, they would understand. 

Zayne had decided in order to lessen the amount of shed fur, he would brush his ears and tail three times a day. It was just about time to start his midday grooming session. He figured there should be enough time before you came over for lunch. 

Oftentimes, if you spent the evening with him–whether it was in his office or in his apartment–he would let you brush him. It was soothing. He would just melt into your touch. 

He got to work, grabbing his brush and finding a comfy space on the wood floors. 

How long has it been since he’s vacuumed? He admitted to himself, he had begun to slack on the cleaning. It had gotten exhausting keeping up with the amounts of sweeping he had to do everyday and becoming a cat has made him more prone to naps these days. Therefore, his floors were gaining quite the collection of cat fur. 

Zayne sighed slightly as he settled onto the floor in a cross legged position. However, no matter how gentle he sat down, it  hadn’t stopped him from stirring up the stray strands of fur into the air. He started on his 

With the precise motions of a surgeon, he ran the brush over his ears first. An attempt to ensure that each motion was controlled as to not let too much cat fur fly. The feeling was pleasant, he almost purred. 

Strands of his soft black fur detached from the brush, regardless of his attempts, drifting lazily through the air. 

He watched them float.

A small sigh left his lips. No matter how careful he was, the fur would go wherever it felt. The sun’s rays illuminated the fur flying through the air, accentuating how they floated gently before landing on his clothes, his floor–his face.

He gave a frustrated exhale from his nose, blowing the cat furs away from his nostrils. Then, he moved on to brushing his tail. He wasn’t a big fan of brushing his tail. It was a human scaled version of a maine coone’s tail, those of which were already long and fluffy. He swiftly moved the brush through his tail. Unlike his ears, this took more effort and these strands were more prone to flying wherever they felt like. 

More and more fur lifted into the air, curling in invisible trails around him. It was like a mini cloud of cat fur always hung around him. 

That’s when he felt it. 

A faint, miniscule tickle on the tip of his nose. It was hardly worth acknowledging at first. Just a light sensation that teased the edges of his sinuses. His nostrils gave a tiny twitch, and then nothing.

Zayne continued brushing, doing his best not to acknowledge any sensations on his face. This of course, scattered more fur into the air around him. Not that it could be helped. Still, he refused to give into the growing irritation, or acknowledge the way his breath had begun to catch. He was still in control. He could do this. 

He finally made it to the ends of his tail. The fullest, most luxurious part. It was beautiful, yet he cursed it. Although, you personally loved when he let you run your hands through it. He gave a few generous strokes, running the bristles through the fur with precision. 

More and more fur detached, swirled through the air, landing everywhere. 

His breath hitched. The tickle was beginning to settle in the back of his nose as he continued. He gave a particularly harsh tug on his next stroke as a knot had nestled itself deep in his fur. Big mistake on his end. A small plume of fur flew up into the air, curling directly into his face. He could feel each ticklish strand land on, around, and in his nose. The teased and tickled as he shakily inhaled. 

“No, no, n-nhh…I d-don’t– don’t need to snihHh–sneeze–” 

His nostrils flared, protesting the cat fur that tickled his nose. His breath hitched and stuttered, chest heaving. Fighting a losing battle, he finally raised his hand up to his nose. He wasn’t allergic to cat hairs, but his nose was quite sensitive to the touch. 

At last, his breath caught.

“Hhh–hh’Tscht!” He pinched the first sneeze off behind his fingers. It was refined and quiet, yet it did not relieve him from the tickle that plagued his nose. Before he had time to think, his nose protested once again, and suddenly once became six times.

“Heh-’Tcht! –eH’Tcht! N–tchtt! ‘Tch! ‘Tch! ‘tchhh!” Zayne wasn’t going to stop anytime soon if he didn’t release his nose to expel the cat fur, but habits kept him from doing so. “ahH–...s-so tickly..s-stuhHh’tcht!! ehH’Tcht! S-stupid cat f-fur’TCHT! ehH–’Tcht!” 

Each sneeze–albeit quite–harshly jerked his body and shook more cat fur into the air.

“Sh-hiH-iHt’Tgxt’ch! ah–Tchtt! hihH–heh’Tchht!” 

His body repeatedly betrayed him as his nose gave in to the itch–even as he fought to suppress them. Somewhere in the midst, he heard his door unlock. ‘Oh no, they’re here already. How long hahH– has it b-been?’ With all the commotion from his nose he had forgotten you were coming over. 

Soon, he heard the sound of your feet headed in his direction.

“Zayne? Are you… wh-what happened to you?” You tried to cover up your amusement by coughing to hide your laughter. Zayne tried his best to glare at you through his bleary eyes.

“T-too muhh’Tchh! hehH’TChh! Toomuchcatfur ahH–’TChh!!!” He stuttered out through the sneezes. “Hehh…I-I can’t s-stohH–p…”.

“Do you maybe think, you should, perhaps, take your hand off your nose? Stop stifling mayhaps? Or would you rather forever trap those tickly–”

“hehH–eH’DTZsh’iiihh!!” Even the mere word tickly made his nose burst. At least he finally let himself release the sneezes freely, “ahEhH’DZSH–iihhh!! eHEH’DSZHIew! heh’DZSH–IIHH–…hhh..”.

You clicked your tongue in feigned disappointment, “Kitty Zayne choking on his own fur?”

His ears flattened as he sniffled the mess back, rosy cheeks gave away his embarrassment. You gave him a cheeky smile as you pulled some tissues out of your back pocket. You held them out, nudging them towards his face as he still glared (lovingly) at you.

“This is n-not amuHh…amusing…hh…hH’iHhh–’Tschhh!” He sneezed again and hastily grabbed for the tissues. He blew his nose harshly in an attempt to evict any stray cat fur left in his nose. 

“Well, I found it quite amusing,” You giggled as you plopped down on the floor right in front of him, “though you had me worried for a moment there when you wouldn’t open your door or respond to your phone.”

He looked back at you above the tissues as he examined the expression on your face. A look of both amusement and relief. 

“I did…not mean to worry you. Apologies, my dear,” He sighed, his lips twitched into a small smile. 

“It’s no worries! The scene I walked into made up for it. Imagine, me walking in, worried, just to find you sitting on the floor, sneezing your head off, surrounded by a cloud of your own fur–”

“OhH–no wh–y–heH’TSCHHH! eH’Tschh! eH’Tch! ‘tch–’tch–’tch…heh…haHh–e’Tschhhh! Why did you have to mention it again?” He once again blew his nose into the tissues. Though they were quite wet by now. You threw your head back, cackling.

“I’m sorry, Zayne!! I didn’t realize you were so suggestible!” Regardless of his embarrassment, your laughter was still music to his ears. 

“Mhm…what will I ever do with you, hm?” He let out an amused sigh. 

“Why don’t we settle onto the couch instead of going out today? Now seems like a perfect time for an afternoon nap, yeah?” You beamed as you reached to scratch his ears. Miraculously, your hand made it to his ears before he could stop you. He let out a small pur, which in turn caused his cheeks to turn a deeper shade of red.

“S-sounds good to me,” he finally replied after he let you scritch behind his ears. You knew he enjoyed that spot. You hummed happily and helped him up from the floor. Zayne followed without protest, unable to stop the small purrs that escaped his throat.

Moments later, the two of you were nestled together on his plush sofa. Zayne’s breaths were slow and steady, though a faint sniffle escaped him now and then. The sneezing had finally eased, leaving his little cat-self drowsy. His tail curled lazily over your legs and with each soft exhale, his ears would give a tiny flick. He was the first to doze off, with you not too far behind.

[imminent-danger-came]

Lady Bone Demon: "Do not lament your fate child, you can rest knowing you served your purpose—destiny has found you."

(2x10 This is the End!)

-

Lady Bone Demon: "A reminder: it seems you can not be trusted to willingly follow the path of destiny. But know this: If you betray me again—one misstep, one failure in any way—I will erase the very memory of you."

(3x04 The Winning Side)

-

Tang: "You're wrong. I know I'm not a strong as they are. I may still be searching for my purpose—but what I do know, is that doing it alone is not the path I'm destined to take. Deep in my heart, I know my place is alongside my friends."

(3x08 Benched)

-

Lady Bone Demon: "I sent you a task—you were to retrieve the Monkie King and his protégé, yet you refused the path of destiny and so there will be pain."

(3x08 Benched)

-

Tang: "STOP! It was me! I mean, yeah, Macaque forced me to do it and I am definitely starting to have second thoughts on the whole thing now but- I don't know how and I don't know why, I just felt like I had to. Like it was...destiny!" Lady Bone Demon Voice Over: "Destiny can not be undone Sun Wukong."

(3x10 The Samadhi Fire)

-

Lady Bone Demon: "No matter what you do, you cannot change the path of destiny." MK: "I don't know if this all happened because it was destined to, but I have to believe that I found the staff so I could use it for good." [...] "If you really believed that destiny can't be changed, you wouldn't be using every ounce of power you have to keep him contained!"

(3x14 Destiny Fulfilled)

-

Lady Bone Demon: “Know this, monkey, you and I are not so different. We both fight for what we think is right—that pursuit only leads to one thing." MK: "Hmmhm. To destiny, right?" Lady Bone Demon: "No. To pain."  

(3x14 Destiny Fulfilled)

-

MK: "I can't believe that worked!" Tang: "Eh, if that was destined to go wrong, then it would have!"

(4x03 The Great Tang Man)

-

Tang: "If your bonds of friendships our strong, then you will always find your way back to one another!"

(4x04 Pig Napped!)

-

Macaque: "Wukong was on a path of self-destruction, we all were. But when he met the monk, it set him on a different path." MK: "Ah! The path of the good guy! Making those good life choices?"

(4x11 A Lifetime of Mistakes)

-

Purpose, Pain, and the Path of Destiny

[lynzishell]

So here we are

...again

[cosmic-ships]

They aren't in the shop :c I was lied too. I AM SO SAD!

[dollypopup]

y'all can all cancel me (again) for this, but if there's even a SHRED of 'who should I pick?' from Penelope in season 3, I am tuning out SO fast because like. . .sorry not sorry, there IS no choice. Debling is some crusty OC suitor she barely even knows and Colin is a man who she has been so supposedly in love with to the point where she'd ruin her entire family's reputation to have a potential love story with him. Penelope and Colin have background, years of knowing each other, intimacy that few people in the Ton can boast of having (letters, conversations about purpose, fights and arguments and makeups) and her and Debling have. . .a dance or two at a ball because he's a rebound for Penelope's broken heart. he means nothing. he has no nuance, he has no weight to the story, he is such an afterthought to me. either I wanna see Penelope going 'you know what? I don't even LIKE this dude. he's. . .fine, but I don't care about him even a shred as much as I care about Colin' or the INSTANT Colin's like 'you know what? we should get married' if it's not an immediate 'say less, you're already my husband, try returning me without the receipt, Debling whomst?' then I don't want it!

like. . .it's just so frustrating to see all the 'I hope Debling sweeps her off her feet and she rejects Colin's proposal and she makes him work for it and and and-' nonsense from the fandom and it's always tagged and no matter how many times I block it, it just keeps popping up. I go into the Polin tag for POLIN. I don't give a SHIT about a male love interest other than Colin. Not one. Not a shred. Not an iota.

and also. . .Debling has the 'benefit' of not having depth, or character traits, or HISTORY, so peeps can project onto him however they want, but I'm calling it now, there is NOTHING he could do or be that would make me like him more than Colin. Colin will always hit different, and I will always love him more. and if Pen's not on that same page? lol bye

you want me to believe Penelope and Colin are soulmates and it's romance for her to hem and haw about how difficult a decision it is for her to marry a stranger who knows barely anything about her. . .

when Marina was out here dropping banger lines like 'You were the only man with which I could see myself being happy' and 'I do not care about any of these men, where is Colin?'? like hello??? and she wasn't even fully in love with him!!!! but we'll demonize her until the cows come home in our fandom and make her the villain in Polin's love story for DARING to get in between Polin, yet Debling, a white man, is a darling dear perfect prince for getting in between Polin? existing in our fandom solely so Penelope can be like 'lol, Colin ain't shit, let me entertain any and everyone else'?

if that's the direction it goes then, ten toes down and on my mama, she doesn't deserve Colin and she can move because I'm on my way to court him my damn self

and that's that on that

[pardonmydelays]

i was in a really dark place before clancy came out in may... now i can genuinely say that i'm so fucking grateful for everything that happened ever since

[fictional-worlds-are-exquisite]

i'm going to need facebook to stop whatever it's doing because why is one of my friend suggestions my ex boyfriend that i met on minecraft when i was like 14 that quickly led off minecraft who then threatened to kill himself when i said i wanted to break up and then attempted to carry that out so i carried a lot of guilt for a lot of years and still have a slight (or not so slight) ✨ fear ✨ of relationships

idk if this bullshit is worth keeping up with my relatives man

[lock-my-feelings-in-a-jar]

[lizzzybooo]

I'm watching helluva boss again with my friend and I feel like I'm defending it SO HARD because it starts pretty slowly (I mean it's funny but you know it's basically just swearing and violence at the beginning) and I can't pinpoint the moment it took over my entire body and soul completely so I just keep telling her to keep watching waiting for the moment she would be like well shit this is my life now

[hazeism]

Book Demerzel was male in the past too! She is Gender.

Ooh, okay, so I guess my understanding of things is kind of impaired by the fact that I'm still on Edge (I went in in-universe chrono, though--I mean I did the Empire books all jumbled because I read Pebble ages and ages ago and then the other two came in as holds from my library in the wrong order hahah--so I started the Foundation novels with Prelude) and have yet to read and Earth which I think he returns in? So I might be missing a huge amount of context regarding his presentation/interpretation/etc. etc.

Most of my ideas about Daneel's complication regarding gender mostly conform to my understanding of him (any pronouns apply 🥰🥰 but I'm used to he so I'll just go with that for now) as a fundamentally resolved, instrumental thing--though cornered of course by minimalism and limited knowledge--who has the luxury (?) of more readily identifying the contextual applications of gender, combined then with millenia of insight into the fluid/arbitrary drifts of social and cultural mores, plus his own schematics of prioritization and internalization... I think he is on like extradimensional levels of gender, internally, and I hope there is canon basis for him taking upon himself some gendered aspects in a functional/teleological manner (as he takes on other aspects of personhood! even Demerzel himself is an adopted aspect!) because I think that even if that goes uninterrogated (as so many things in these novels do GRRR!) it has even more necessary implications for his internal cognitions of gender!!!!

That said I DO also think there's something to be said about the amount of gendered socialization he gets in his most formative years (especially from his Earthman who knows his sociological formulas but does not have a very sophisticated or unblemished understanding of gender politicssdbfkdj)--which is undercut by his state of subjection and perpetual qualification and Othering from people who do know his true nature, and then the implication of Deceit (not what I believe him to be doing--at least in the context of gender/lack thereof but definitely how it would be interpreted by towards people who don't know what he is which like. very transgender existence tbh being considered inherently deceitful) but this all just makes it more texturally complex and interesting and makes him even better at being soooo gender. Love that thing!!!!