#i wonder why i did this but didn't even do my favourite part of the song
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iwakuraz · 2 months ago
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flipnote practice from today. yippee song: I've been nostalgic for other peoples childhoods all my life - patricia taxxon
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gguk-n · 12 days ago
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The One (Charles Leclerc x Reader)
Summary- In a world where soulmates exist. Each pair has a unique soulmate mark. Charles doesn't know what his mark is or if he'll ever meet his soulmate.
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Charles Leclerc and Y/N Y/L/N grew up together. They didn't remember the first time they met, they'd always been a part of each other's lives. They did everything together. They were a package deal, you wouldn't find one without the other. Maybe, that's why they hadn't found their soulmate yet or seen a soulmate mark.
Y/N was in primary, maybe eight or nine when some people in her class had started to bully her. Charles was the only one who noticed that she wasn't herself. "Hey Y/N/N" Charles said trying to catch her attention. "Hi Cha" she replied, faking a smile. "You look sad" he pointed out. "I'm okay" she reassured him. "You can tell me anything" Charles said and she broke down crying. Charles soon found out about the bullying and took it upon himself to protect her. That day he returned home with multiple bruises and when asked, he just told them he was protecting his person.
Y/N was ten when her dad told her stop karting. It was her favourite thing to do since she got to spend all her time with Charlie. She would recount the events of the day to anyone after every race. The debriefs were fun, she mostly talked about Charles, actually she only talked about Charles. Hervé tried to reason with her dad to let her continue since she was inconsolable. "But papa, I love karting." she cried. "That's not very girly. Stick to things girls do" he told her sternly. Y/N spent most of her day crying until Charles came around. "I'm sorry we can't kart together" he said hugging her. "You can use my kart whenever you want" he bargained. Y/N smiled for the first time that day. Charles kept to his word, he would let her use his kart whenever she wanted; to this day, she was the only one allowed to touch his cars, even the Ferraris.
Y/N was with Charles when he won his GP3 and F2 title. She was the first one he met as soon as he got out of the car. She was crying with snot running down her nose. "You look ugly crying" Charles laughed and Y/N hit him. "I'm just happy" she said. "I know" he replied, hugging her for a very long time.
Charles was there when Y/N got rejected from her dream university. She had locked herself up and wouldn't open the door for anyone. Charles was the only one able to coax her out. "Wanna get ice cream?" Charles asked rubbing her back. She nodded. The pain of rejection melted away with the ice cream. That was when Y/N knew, the reason she didn't have a soulmate mark. It was because she had already met her soulmate. Charles was her one and only and she didn't need a a stupid soulmate mark to tell her that.
Y/N was also there when Hervé was sick and in the hospital. "Charlie, don't worry. I'm here. I'll made sure Hervé gets well soon while you go and race" she reassured Charles who was not ready to leave. "I trust you." he told her. "I know" she nodded.
Y/N was there when Hervé passed. Charles was a mess. He wouldn't stop blubbering, tightly wrapped around her as if she would disappear too if he let go, as she patted his back. "He's watching down on us. He's always with us" she said trying to console him.
Y/N was there when Charles got offered the Ferrari contract. She had heard him contemplate his choices when he had joined Formula One and now that Ferrari was offering him a contract, it was a no brainer for him. He was quick to sign the contract with Y/N right behind him, literally and figuratively.
Charles would spend a lot of his time wondering who his soulmate could be. And it saddened him to think that it would be someone who would never have the opportunity to meet his father. Y/N always wondered what her soulmate mark could've been, but alas, at least she had her soulmate even if he didn't know it yet.
It was the Monaco GP, Charles had finally broken his Monaco curse. As the checkered flag waved and Charles crossed the finish line; his heart was heavy yet warm. He couldn't believe he had done it, finally. He got out of the car and raced to his team; his family waiting for him. The first person he saw was Y/N, with tears staining her cheeks. Charles wiped her tears, "I won" he muttered. "I know" she smiled wrapping him in a tight hug. "I'm sure he must be looking down on you right now. He must be so happy. I know it" she whispered into his shoulder. "You always knew what he felt" he replied. "He would tell you how proud he was of you and how he knew you could do it" she elaborated while pulling away. As Charles eyes met hers for the thousandth time since they first met, his heart felt warm, his mind was calm and everything around him felt like it was where it was supposed to be. He was where he was supposed to be. He was with his soulmate. "Go on" she pushed Charles towards his team and smiled as he stumbled forward.
A couple days after the GP, Y/N was lounging around his mother's shop when Charles interrupted her. "Hey" he spoke slowly. "Hi Cha" she smiled. "I wanted to talk to you" he began. "Looks like it" she replied while using her two fingers to ease the worry lines on his forehead, nodding at him to continue. "You know how we've yet to get out mark or our soulmate" he pointed out. "I'm aware" she laughed. "What if, we've already met our soulmate?" he questioned. "hmm" she cocked her head. "What if we met them so young that we don't know, we don't know our mark was or anything" he rambled. "Where are you going with this?" she asked hesitantly. "What if our soulmate has always been around? With us, through it all" Charles suggested. She nodded with tears in her eyes. "What if we are each other's soulmates?" Charles proceeded hesitantly. Y/N jumped into his arms, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Took you long enough" she mumbled against his neck. "You knew" he asked, pulling away to look at her.
She nodded with her arms still around his neck, Charles placing his on her waist. "When?" he asked. "The day I got rejected from the university I wanted" she replied. "That long?" he asked. She just nodded. "You were always there, through my highs and lows" she explained. "You were with me through everything too." Charles interrupted. "I'm glad it's you" Y/N announced. "me too" Charles reiterated.
"Our mums will be happy" Charles said, as the pair walked hand in hand. "I think they always knew" Y/N stated. "That's even better. That means dad met my soulmate" Charles smiled. "Can I tell you a secret?" Y/N asked. "What?" Charles asked. "He always hoped we'd be soulmates" she replied. "No wonder you were his favourite" Charles laughed pulling her in for a kiss.
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kingkat12 · 4 months ago
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seven minutes in hell (roman godfrey x reader)
WARNINGS: 18+, public sex(??), voyeurism, emotional extortion (Roman is such an ass omg), groping, foul language, smoking, angst, mentions of sex
summary: after you made out with Roman during a game of seven minutes in heaven, he insists that you owe him for not telling Letha about it-- how can someone so beautiful be so evil?
word count: 8,192 (yes I know lol)
PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9
a/n: after having my inbox flooded w sweethearts asking for a part two, here you go!! I do advise new readers to read the first one before this, because idk how much sense this is going to make without it lol, but enjoy!!<33
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Paranoia. That was the only word that could describe the week that followed the party where Roman and I had kissed.
I had spent every waking moment wondering when Roman would show up to cash in his debt or prick me with a goddamn needle. His words lingered in my mind, haunting me; "Fine, I'll be nice. But you owe me," The reminder of those words sent a shiver down my spine, and I couldn't help but wonder how I could've been so stupid as to rope myself into something like this.
Roman knew I liked him. In fact, he knew it very well. I couldn't even mask my feelings with hatred anymore, and everything about that made me want to throw myself off a cliff-- that would probably be more merciful than whatever it was that I had in store. 
After we had made out during seven minutes of heaven, I had to tell my best friend, Letha, that nothing had happened. If she found out that I had made out with her cousin, I doubt she'd want to have me hanging around any longer. And quite frankly, Letha was my favourite person in the whole world, so it was detrimental that she stayed close. She was like a ray of sunshine peeking out through heaps of stormy skies; there was no way in hell I'd lose her without a fight.
Which is why I needed to keep Roman in check, along with my body un-pierced by any incoming needles. 
The first time I saw him after the party, was a few days later in the cafeteria at school. I had stopped in my tracks, completely turning to stone as I watched him with his friends. It was almost as though I was afraid he'd see me if I moved, and to my shock, that's exactly what happened-- as I shifted my weight from one foot to another, harshly gripping my tray of food, his eyes landed on me with a quickness that immediately threw me into a state of panic. I bolted with speed I didn't know I had, not stopping until I reached the other end of the school, panting. 
The second time had been at the library. I had been looking for a specific book that was quite old, meaning I had to do a lot of searching-- the librarian had been of no help, of course. As I scoured the shelves of endless books, crouching down to get a look at the lower sections, I suddenly felt a pair of eyes on me from above.
I looked up to find Roman's green eyes staring at me from the other aisle; his height made it ridiculously easy to lean over, having no visual obstruction of my side of the shelf. Something about the smirk playing across his lips made me freeze up-- it felt like I was prey, about to be eaten whole. I let out a squeak of horror as I grabbed the first book I saw, not letting him get a word in before I dashed towards the exit without a second thought.
The third time was the absolute worst; I had been walking down the stairs with Letha, on our way to our shared history class, as we suddenly encountered Roman on his way up. I felt my heart beat against the books I now pressed tightly against my chest, holding my breath as he neared us with a conniving look on his face-- I was quite sure I had lost all the blood in mine.
As Roman and Letha had a conversation about some sort of family dinner later, I did my best to make myself as small as possible; I wondered whether I should slip away into the crowd or just throw myself down the stairs. 
I was quite sure that it was clear to Roman why I was avoiding him, and I was even more sure that it also was amusing to him. It was rather obvious, with the way he obnoxiously eyed me up with a growing grin. "You okay?" he asked, nudging me. "You look spooked."
Asshole. Just the slightest touch was enough to make me flinch, and my words came out in a breathy mumble; "I'm fine," 
Roman nodded, exchanging a look with Letha. He grew taller when he took a step up, inching closer as he leaned over to check which books I had pressed up against my chest. His long, slender fingers reached forward to tug at one of the books to get a better look, and I would've missed the note he slipped down along the front of my history book if I had blinked. As Roman pulled away, dragging his fingers through his hair as though nothing had happened, I held my books as tight to my chest as I possibly could to not let the note slide down to the floor. 
My heart was beating harder than ever as Roman made his way past me, his familiar cologne lingering in my system as Letha and I made it to class five minutes early. As she left to use the bathroom, I could finally put away my things, inhaling a shaky breath as I checked the note;
meet me behind school in an hour, or I tell Letha everything
I couldn't help the groan that escaped me, ripping the piece of paper to shreds. This was not going to end well.
。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚
Somehow, I had managed to pry myself away from Letha for long enough to make it in time for my meeting with Roman. I was tugging at the sleeves of my jumper, anxiously ripping at the fabric. Wondering whether I should've worn protective gear to shield myself from any needle-kinks he might impose on me, I trembled with fear-- I didn't want to see him. 
Despite my wishes, Roman eventually came around the corner, a rather mischievous smirk spread across his soft, pink lips as he neared me. His hands were tucked into his pockets as he leaned against the wall next to me, his green eyes etching themselves into my skull. His usual cardigan was draped around his shoulders and over his white shirt, tied in the front, as he crossed his long legs in the classic Roman Godfrey stance. "I'm glad to see you came,"
"As if I had a choice," I mumbled, glancing at our surroundings, not wanting to be caught alone with him here. I had to do everything in my power not to look at the casual swoop of his hair, not wanting to think about how handsome he looked right now. "What do you want?"
Roman blinked twice, almost as though he had expected me to say something else. "Isn't it obvious?"
I was afraid my heart was pounding audibly in my chest. "No," My gaze darted down to my shoes, kicking away a nearby rock. "Can't we just forget any of it ever happened?"
"Well, that was sort of the draft of the original plan," Roman said, shrugging. "But you've clearly not been able to forget it, with the way you've been avoiding me for a week now... So it seems we have to resolve this, somehow."
Did this mean that I had only made things worse for myself? I wanted to hit my head against the wall and bleed out-- that would probably feel better than what I was feeling on the inside right now. "The actual kiss hasn't been on my mind much... Mostly just the needles,"
Roman let out a huff-- was it a laugh? "I'm not going to fucking poke you, could you calm down about that?"
"I can't be sure when it comes to you, Roman!--"
"So you haven't thought about it?" He cut me off, eyes sparkling with the need to know. "The kiss?"
If I'd had something to throw at him, I would've done so in a heartbeat. Why was he so keen on knowing that? "Not much,"
"Only at night?"
I couldn't even hold back my grimace, listening to him snickering like a proud toddler. "Definitely not," I grumbled, now kicking at another rock. "Why does it matter to you?"
Roman shrugged; "I don't think you understand how intriguing it was to find out you've liked me all this time," He watched as I continued to tug at the sleeve of my sweater, looking like a nervous wreck. The image before him made his grin widen. "You've been the biggest bitch ever, do you know that? I was dead sure you hated my guts until you begged me to fucking kiss you!"
"I didn't beg!" I exclaimed, protesting. "In your fucking dreams, Roman!"
He rolled his eyes, taking a step towards me. Feeling his presence inching closer, I stopped kicking the scattered rocks around me, looking up to meet his gaze.
Roman leaned down, matching himself on the level of my widening eyes. He studied me as I froze to my spot like an icicle, holding my breath to not get swept up in thoughts of how good he smelled and how soft his lips looked up close. "You're still running your mouth," he mumbled,  and I felt his eyes fall on my lips as well. "I thought you might get a little nicer if I complied with your little kiss."
His way of thinking had me furrowing my brows, confused. Was that why he kissed me? A tiny piece of my heart broke, the hope I had buried deep in my gut dissolving. Why had I ever hoped that his reasons for kissing me the way he did had been different? "I'll be nice if you agree that I don't owe you anything anymore. It's been driving me nuts,"
With this, Roman broke out into a rather abrupt laugh; "Are you kidding? There's no way in hell I'd absolve you of that, anymore,"
The laugh felt so damning, I couldn't help but shudder. I was two seconds away from kicking him instead of the rocks. "What do you want, then?"
Roman straightened up, the look on his face giving away that he was debating what to choose. "It's probably not something as bad as you expected it to be," he said, nodding to himself as he no longer met my hard gaze. "I'd just like it if you told me why you like me."
What? I stared up at him in disbelief, lips parting in shock. Had I avoided him like the plague over a simple question? Sure, it wasn't the most comfortable one to answer, but my mind had already concluded that he would stick me with needles like a voodoo doll and leave me for dead on a road somewhere.  "Uh... Could I ask why?"
"Nope,"
I nodded; "Okay...?" Clearing my throat, I pondered where to start. I hadn't actually thought about this question, and I had to scour my brain for the answer. "I don't know," I eventually mumbled. "I guess I just think you're handsome." Saying it out loud physically pained me, but I knew I had to get this over with.
Roman blinked twice, meeting my gaze with a rather empty look about him. "That's it?"
"I don't know? I think so," I shrugged, searching through my mind for more. "You're my type, I suppose. Tall, brown hair, green eyes... And unattainable. I guess that a part of me likes that you'll never like me back." Saying this out loud, however, was even worse. I hadn't thought about it like that up until this moment.
Roman seemed even more confused than I did. "So it was nothing that I did?"
Something told me he was searching for something more meaningful, but I had always known that my crush was superficial. "I don't think so..."
What followed would haunt me for days on end; Roman broke out into a rather maniacal laugh, running his hands through his hair in clear denial. "So it's just the same, then," he said in between hiccups of laughter. "It's not about me at all!"
I could only watch as he went into some sort of a mental storm, biting down on his lower lip to suppress the noise. "I don't think you quite understand how it is for no one to like you for you," Roman continued, now pacing back and forth as his trail of words sped up; "You've probably never had that problem, right? Guys probably like you because you're nice to them, I've seen that multiple times. Or that one guy that just hasn't left you alone since you sat together during assembly that one time-- what the fuck was his name?"
I held my breath; what on earth was I witnessing? "Roman, I think you're spiraling, let's just breathe--"
"Daniel, wasn't it?" Roman finally looked back at me, a cramped smile on display along his lips. "He definitely likes you for you, right? Not just because you're cute? That must be fucking nice." 
I had never imagined that I would pity someone for only being liked for their looks. Somehow, I found myself wanting to comfort him, and I had to fight that instinct. "It would probably be easier for you to find something real if you weren't such a prick," I mumbled. "If you didn't tug people's hair, throw stuff at them, or stab them with needles?"
That seemed to be enough for Roman to take a step back from his weird state, his pacing coming to a halt. Something seemed to be dawning on him, a crushing realization that should've come about ten years ago, but instead of taking it like an adult, he retaliated; "Well, you're not exactly doing any better than me! You've liked me for God knows how long, and you've treated me like utter crap!"
"Because you did the same to me!" I said, feeling my voice raise with my emotions. "You've had no interest in me, along with all the bullshit you've pulled all year! Don't you think it would probably be easier for me to like you for who you are if you had been a pleasant person to be around?"
Groaning, Roman turned his back to me, ready to walk away. After taking a few steps, he turned on his heel, facing me once more. Fury was burning in his green, green eyes, fists balling up as he spoke; "This is not over. You tell anyone just a tiny fraction of this conversation, I'll tell Letha I fucked you raw," 
My jaw fell in complete and utter shock as he walked away, cursing myself to the heavens and beyond. How had I managed to make this an even bigger mess than it was before I came? As I went back to kicking rocks, trying to catch my breath, bits of the conversation suddenly came back to me; did he just say that I was cute? That he had seen me with Daniel during assembly, and that he had spotted me talking to my previous flings?
This only made everything furthermore confusing; it was obvious that he didn't like me, either. But what on earth was going on in that brain of his?
。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚
The next time I saw Roman was a few days later in the hallway during rush hour. I had spent several nights tossing and turning, trying to decrypt the conversation that continued to haunt me. The conclusion I arrived at, was that he might be lashing out with the needles and the childish behaviour because he didn't know how else to express interest. 
But then again, that would mean that he was very interested in me. I was sure something was wrong with that conclusion, but I couldn't pinpoint any other possible theory at this moment. I also couldn't shake how upset he looked when he found out my crush was purely superficial; was his need to be seen for who he was so overpowering?
So when I finally flagged him down, Roman was in a rush, and this was rather unfortunate; my legs were much shorter than his, and I had to go into a jog to not lose sight of him. Eventually, I caught up to him, grabbing his wrist and tugging at the sleeve of his shirt to get his attention.
Roman seemed rather confused, glancing down at me with a wild look in his eyes which quickly died out when he saw who it was. "What are you doing?--"
"You smiled at me in class," I confessed, feeling my cheeks redden. "The sun was hitting your eyes in a way that made them extra green, and you smiled at me and handed me a pencil. That's when I knew I liked you." Slowly, I pried my fingers away from his wrist, letting out the breath I didn't know I had been holding. It felt like an enormous weight had lifted off my shoulders, like the anxiety that clung to me had been washed away in a calm stream of water in the mountains.
Why did I feel such strong a need to tell him my crush wasn't purely superficial? That it had stemmed from the simplest act of kindness? I couldn't quite put my finger on it. Did I pity him that much? 
Roman's pupils expanded, and he stood as if glued to his spot. People kept passing us by, but it was as though all the surrounding sound died out. It was clear that his mind was racing, his brows drawing together in confusion-- or was it disgust? I couldn't be sure. Either way, my heart was thumping so hard in my chest that it hurt. 
I cleared my throat; "Have... a nice day," Before he could answer or make fun of me, I turned on my heel and bolted down the hall, knowing my heart wouldn't be able to take it if he shut me down once more. 
I couldn't take any more of this. Clutching my heart as I made it to my locker, I knew I had to get ready for class and that I didn't have time for the crushing feeling taking over my chest. 
。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚
A big part of me had hoped that our last interaction would be the end of it all. That I wouldn't have to owe Roman anything anymore, that he wouldn't be threatening to tell Letha that we kissed or fucked or whatever-- I should've known that was an unattainable reality. 
I was practically falling asleep at the end of a long day of school. Exhausted, I allowed myself to close my eyes as I leaned my head against my palm, elbow at my table, waiting for class to start. A worrying thought popped into my head as I realized that chemistry was the only class I shared with Roman, which meant that he would probably be showing any time soon. 
With a yawn, I blinked several times, hoping to wake up as I sat back in my chair. I was about to do some stretches, but as I turned to my right, I let out a yelp, nearly falling off my seat.
And I would've fallen right down to the floor if Roman hadn't grabbed the edge of my chair, holding me back with one hand as though it was nothing. "Careful, there," 
That's exactly what he had said when we were in that damn closet playing seven minutes in heaven. I shivered, getting a severe case of deja vu as I looked back at him in disbelief. "When on earth did you show up?"
"Right around the time you nodded off," Roman's books were already on the table-- had I genuinely slept for a minute or two? How could I have missed this? He let go of my seat with a snicker, shaking his head; "You're quite the case, aren't you?"
I didn't like the sound of that. "What do you want? Why are you sitting here?"
"Could you relax?" Roman rolled his eyes, his mood worsening by the second. "Look around, Sherlock, there's nowhere else to sit."
It pained me to realize he was right. With a huff, I fought the urge to kick him under the table. As the teacher finally entered the classroom, excusing himself for being a few minutes late, I let out a sigh of relief; I hoped to avoid talking to Roman as much as possible from now on. After I had confessed to him and gotten nothing in return again, I was dead tired of seeing his gorgeous face-- it was physically painful, at this point.
As class started, I reached into my bag to find a pencil. A good minute passed by as I rummaged around, which eventually garnered Roman's attention; he immediately knew what I was looking for. He turned to me with a spare pencil which he had lying about on his table, holding it out in front of me.
Someone up there was definitely playing pranks on me-- I was sure of it now. With an embarrassed smile, I watched as the sun hit the green of his eyes, illuminating them further as I reached for the pencil. The tips of our fingers touched, just for a few seconds, but it felt like I had almost burned myself with how my nerves reacted to the nudge of his hand against mine. 
Roman seemed to understand the irony of the situation, the corners of his mouth tugging upwards into a dizzying look of kindness. 
There it was. The root of all my problems-- the simplest act of warmth along with the most beautiful smile I had ever seen. The bullshit that started it all. 
I hummed to myself as I broke eye contact, crouching over my table to start taking notes, desperate to distract myself. Every fibre of my being felt like it was buzzing with electricity, unable to calm down. 
It didn't take long before Roman shoved a small note onto my part of the table. I gave him a look before I opened it, sighing.
we need to talk. meet me by my car after school
Turning to Roman, I couldn't help but glare; this again? But his smirk melted me in more ways than one, and I knew that it could have consequences if I didn't go. 
Fuck.
。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚
I waited until there were almost no cars in the parking lot in front of the school, hiding away in the library in the meantime. I didn't exactly want to be seen talking to him. As I finally walked out past the front entrance, I held my breath as I spotted Roman leaning against his red jaguar, typing away on his phone. I wondered who he was texting-- was it Brooke from the cheerleading team? No, it couldn't be; unless she still wanted to be with him after he pricked her with the legendary needle.
It didn't take long for Roman to put away his phone, watching me as I neared him. Something about the way his hair lay in waves over his forehead made him look like even more of a heartbreaker than he already was. "Long time no see, hm?"
I didn't even want to fake being entertained by that-- we both knew that we'd seen each other in class less than twenty minutes ago. "What do you want?"
Roman rolled his eyes; "Can't you at least act like you like me? We both know you do,"
Something about being called out like that didn't sit right with me, but I swallowed my curses. I had to be on his good side, after all, so that he wouldn't turn around and tell Letha what had happened between us. "Did you want me to come skipping down the stairs and run to you?" I asked, getting a good look at him. "Or maybe a blowjob before I bake you a pie?"
A humoured smirk spread across his lips, giving in to a chuckle. "You could at least start by standing a little closer?" Roman put his hands up in the air as though he was surrendering; "Look ma, no needles!"
I huffed, complying. I took a few steps forward, watching the last car leave in my peripheral view. It was definitely not a good idea to be alone with him like this-- I should've known better. 
This didn't seem to be enough for Roman, who proceeded to tap the spot next to him on the hood of his car. 
I groaned; "Roman, come on--"
In a swift motion, he hooked his fingers inside my front pockets, dragging me forward as I yelped. Roman grabbed my hips, forcing me down on the car with a soft thud. With wide eyes, I turned to him, watching his hands disappear back into his pockets. 
"You're infuriating," Roman mumbled under his breath, fishing out a pack of cigarettes from his right pocket. He held it out in front of me; "Want one?"
Honestly, I had only smoked once. It had resulted in me coughing up what felt like half a lung. "No, thanks," 
He shrugged, lighting up a cigarette as he hummed. This little dance around why he had told me to come made me further nervous, once again reaching for the sleeve of my sweater, tugging at the seams that had come loose. The smell of nicotine infiltrated my nose, and I turned to him just in time to watch him exhale a few rings of smoke, eyes transfixed on them as they evaporated into thin air. 
Finally, Roman spoke up; "I'm calling for a truce,"
What? My eyes widened, scanning him for lies. "... What's the catch?"
Roman turned to me, a slight smile splayed across his lips. "You know me too well," he said, chuckling as a light breeze passed us. "I want us to play a game, and then all is forgotten."
"Oh no," I blurted out. "What kind of game, Roman? Can't you take pity on me just once?--"
I immediately shut up as I felt his arm wrap around me, holding out his cigarette in front of my mouth between his fingers. I wasn't about to start fighting him in an empty parking lot, so I parted my lips, accepting the cigarette despite knowing I would cough up everything I had eaten for lunch if I inhaled properly. 
Roman's face was suddenly very close to mine; "Ever heard of this game... Wait, what was it called? Seven minutes in hell?"
For fuck's sake. I watched as he laughed, amused by his joke. Still, my eyes darted down to his bouncing leg, watching as he gave away a sliver of nervousness. I reached for the cigarette, getting it out of my mouth; "Sounds about right," Balancing it between my fingers, holding it out in front of his mouth just as he had done to me, Roman hummed as he wrapped his lips around the cigarette, taking a puff.
Before Roman could take it back into his hand, I pulled the cigarette away from him, putting it back into my mouth. Something about sharing the cigarette was making a familiar ache between my legs throb, which in turn made me cross my legs. I didn't inhale the smoke into my lungs, keeping it in my mouth before breathing it out, knowing it was hard to differentiate between that and the real thing. "Where would we play?" I eventually said, glancing at him.
Now that we were sitting like this, Roman's arm around me, I realized we hadn't been this close since that party where we had kissed. Something about his embrace was comforting, despite me knowing that he was doing it to take the piss out of me. However, my steadfast belief in his reasons became shaky as I met his eyes, watching how unusually big his pupils were as he looked down at me, a certain calmness about him. "My car?"
I couldn't help but giggle as I handed him the cigarette, our fingers meeting in the exchange. "I'm not making out with you in your car,"
"Why not?"
"Every single cheerleader slut at this school has been in the back of that thing," 
Roman shrugged; "Not everyone. Eleven out of fifteen,"
"Ew, you're not making it any better!--"
"Fine!" he huffed, giving me a squeeze with the arm he had around me. Roman put out his cigarette by throwing it to the ground, giving it a proper stomp before he turned to me, a mischievous smirk on display. "No one has been in the front, though."
It was hard to say no when he looked at me like this; how was it possible for someone so conniving to be so beautiful? I had to look away from Roman-- it was getting impossible to breathe. Tugging at my sleeves once more, I realized I had ripped out a new seam. "Look, I have to say I'm a little confused... You're not even into me, so I don't get why you'd want to kiss me again," I let go of my sweater, realizing I would probably manage to rip it all apart if I didn't calm down. "It really is a power thing for you, isn't it?"
Roman hummed, rubbing my arm in a soothing manner as he stared out at the parking lot with a rather hollow look in his eyes. "Yeah... That's definitely what it is,"
I didn't have time to wonder why he didn't sound so convinced. As I dared to look at him again, I watched him lost in thought, pondering something. I took that as my cue to get out of playing his game; "Making out would probably be fun and all, but don't you think it is more beneficial for you if we maybe got to... I don't know, know each other?"
Confused, Roman's gaze darted back to me. "Why?"
"You seemed to be a little upset that I didn't like you because of you, remember?" I gave him a playful nudge, drawing forth a smile. "Instead of imposing your weird dominance kink or whatever it is on me, wouldn't you want to prove that there's more to you?"
This seemed to strike a chord with Roman, who slowly started to nod in approval. "That... doesn't sound so bad,"
I damn right hoped so-- I let out a shaky breath, relieved to not become the twelfth girl to end up in Roman's car.
。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚
I couldn't believe that I had managed to fix myself up with a date with the Roman Godfrey. He was practically known for never going out on dates with anyone, but here I was, running around my room trying to find something nice to wear.
However, there was one tiny hoop I had to get through-- Letha was on speaker phone as I rummaged through my drawers, and my heart was racing as I tried to avoid her questions."I still don't get why you can't hang out today!" Letha whined, clearly upset with me. "I thought you were going to help me pick out some shoes down at the sale!"
I grimaced, feeling like the biggest prick on the planet. "I'm sorry, Letha, I'm just not feeling too good..." With a heavy heart, I could hear her sulk on the other end as I finally found the perfect bag. 
"I've barely seen you this week... You've been so jumpy, I just feel like you're avoiding me. Did I do something?"
No, no! I was about to protest until I heard a sound coming from my driveway; I made my way to my window, glancing down at Roman's red car, watching as he parked. Clearing my throat, I rushed to my phone; "Letha, I'm so fucking nauseous, I think I need to throw up... I'm so sorry, could I call you back later?"
I heard her sigh; "Get better soon, okay?--"
As Roman started honking outside, clearly impatient, I had to leave the call without even saying goodbye. Groaning, I gathered my stuff, making my way down the stairs and outside with hurried steps. "Stop that!" I said, trying to steady my breathing as I approached the car. "My parents are inside!"
"So what?" Roman's cocky smirk was on display as always, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. "Whatever dumb fuck told you I'm a patient man, is a dumb fuck." Roman got out of his car to open my door on the other side. It was nice to see that he had a gentleman bone in him-- it gave me hope that this date wouldn't crash and burn. 
And weirdly enough, it actually went quite well. I had been worried that he'd take me out shooting or whatever it was that he did in his free time, but Roman settled for something simple-- we were currently sat in my favourite café in the city, having the most normal conversation we'd ever had. 
"You're kidding me?" Roman said, putting down his coffee with a look of shock on his face. "You've never seen The Godfather?"
I couldn't help but huff-- this was a solid reminder that he still was a guy at the end of the day. "I haven't gotten to it, I guess,"
"Well, you have to!" He ran his fingers through his styled hair, shaking his head in disapproval. Roman was wearing a different shirt today that I hadn't seen before, and I was getting the feeling that he had actually dressed up a bit despite how casual this date was. "What else haven't you seen?" 
"Uh, I don't know?--"
"What else haven't you done, is probably a better question," Roman was grinning from ear to ear now, eyes sparkling in anticipation. "First kiss?"
"David Parker, eighth grade," I put down my milkshake with a smirk, happy to be sizing him up. "You?"
Roman seemed beyond amused; "Amanda Reiley, sixth," He leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table, intrigued that I wasn't backing down from his intrusive questions. "First time?"
I had to suppress a cough, feeling as though I was choking on air. There was no way in hell I'd tell him I hadn't had sex yet. "... Some guy I met on vacation last year in Greece, don't remember his name,"
"Really, now?" Roman hummed, leaning back against his chair. "Not buying it. You squirm like a virgin every time I look at you."
My breath caught in my throat-- "Pardon?"
It seemed that my reaction only amused him, but he still spared me by brushing over it. "My first time was with Denise Campbell, ninth grade. Was really sweet, actually,"
I tried to shake off the fact that Roman had been right in his deductions. The story of his first time was unexpected, and he had been quite young-- concerningly young. "Roman Godfrey and sweet don't usually go together, in my book. Did you light candles or something?" I took a sip of my milkshake, watching him break out into a smile. 
"Honestly? I think she lit one," he said, a soft chuckle following.
 I had forgotten how beautiful his laugh was. Flustered, I put away my milkshake, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear as I met his gorgeous, green eyes. There was a calmness about him now, something I had trouble getting used to. It was a big contrast to the way he had looked at me while we played seven minutes in heaven, or the way he had been looking at me the whole week I had avoided him. The usual feeling of unease that crept up my system whenever he was around was long gone-- it was almost as though we were friends. 
Nervous about my next question, I started picking at my nails; "So where did it go wrong?"
"Pardon?"
I didn't meet his gaze anymore. "When did it become casual to you?"
"Sex?"
"Sex,"
Roman hummed, taking a rather long sip of coffee. I wondered whether I had gone too far with the question, but he didn't seem fazed. "Didn't get too far with being sweet, I suppose,"
This was definitely a chapter in Roman's life that I hadn't expected to hear about-- who had broken his heart? And why was it comforting to know that he'd had that experience? Something about it made him more human. "That's sad," I mumbled, forcing myself to leave my nails alone. "Sweet usually gets you quite far."
Something about that seemed to intrigue him; he moved to the edge of his chair, closer. "Don't you girls usually like the bad guys? That seems to work well, in my experience,"
I shrugged; "It can be fun for a week or two. Any longer than that, and your heart starts to tire,"
"Ah," was all Roman said, tapping his fingers against the table in an impatient manner. "Would you want to get ice cream? It's on me."
This conversation was starting to give me whiplash. "I'm sold," I eventually answered, shooting him a smile. It was nice to know that he wanted to continue the date despite my intrusive questions-- I couldn't lie; I was rather enjoying myself. And my ego was getting the biggest inflation it'd had in a while, remembering he didn't usually go out on dates at all.
About half an hour later, we were now walking down the street with our ice cream, once again debating why I hadn't watched The Godfather-- boys really love that movie, don't they? I took the liberty of looking up at him as he explained the plot to me in excessive detail, watching his hands flail around in excitement as he spoke, eyes round and green, and the way a single strand of hair lay in front of his eyes, straying from his stylings.
The man I had hated this whole year suddenly became a person to me. A person with interests, quirks, and feelings-- weirdly enough. Roman didn't come off as a spoiled brat right now, and I could barely remember a time when I would run away from him and his needles. Like this, I could imagine sweet moments with Roman, possibly even holding his hand as we walked down this street, doing normal stuff together. 
In another lifetime, I would have really liked just doing laundry and taxes with you.
However, I was quickly yanked out of my daydreams when I spotted a familiar figure leaving the shoe store across the street. With a panicked yelp, I grabbed Roman, dragging him down the nearest alleyway as I felt my blood run cold. 
Roman looked beyond confused; "What are you?--"
"Letha!" 
His mouth formed an 'o', watching me press myself up against the wall. "She doesn't know?"
I shook my head, letting out a shaky breath. This was definitely not what I needed right now. If she found out I was here with Roman and that I had lied to her, I was sure she'd have my head. Why couldn't I just melt into the wall and become immaterial? 
With ease and calm, Roman grabbed my finished ice cream, putting it down on the ground along with his own before nearing me. "We'll wait it out,"
What? "Thought you were ready to rat me out?" I leaned forward, glancing past the corner of the alley, making sure Letha hadn't seen us. 
"Well..." Roman put his hand on my shoulder, guiding my back to the wall once more. "I know she'd kill you, and you can't die before watching The Godfather."
Had I not been preoccupied with being quiet, I would've groaned right in his cocky face. The hand he had on my shoulder burned against my skin, and I was getting flashbacks to our time in the closet at the party where we had kissed. "I've repaid my debt to you now, anyway," I mumbled, warily glancing past the edge of the corner where we were standing, watching Letha from afar. 
Roman's hand on my shoulder quickly made its way into my hair, fingers twisting themselves into the nape of my neck, forcing me to face him. I let my breath escape me as my lips parted, watching him with big, wide eyes; what was happening? It was at this moment that I realized how close he was standing, how he was practically pressed up against me.
There was something sinister about the look on Roman's face-- it suddenly dawned on me that he was still the same person, even though he had buried this side of him for a few hours. He would always thrive when seeing someone in an anxious state, feel joy at any visible conflict or misery, and it dawned on me how bad of a situation this was when his next words came out in a dangerous whisper; "I could just call her over here, do you know that?" Roman's grip on my hair tightened, almost enough to make me wince. "You've made quite a mess of yourself, sneaking behind her back. I could ruin you in a second."
"You won't, though," Fucker.
Intrigued, Roman's green eyes sparkled; "And why are you so sure of that?"
My chest was heaving against him, hating every second, every minute of this encounter. When had he turned into such a sadist? Was it after Denise Campbell in ninth grade? I wanted to make sure I asked him that next time. "Because this gets you high," I hissed. "This feeling that you get from watching me get scared? You're addicted. You're a fucking junkie." 
I felt Roman breathe out against my lips, leaning closer, eyes burning into mine. I could see the flickering flames in them, and I knew that I had set them alight-- I was quite literally playing with fire at this point. "Well, this is who I am," he said through gritted teeth. "Do you get it now?"
"Get what?"
"Why no one likes me," Now, the fire died out, turning into an unintelligible emotion swimming in the green of his eyes. I didn't need to be a specialist to understand that he was baring his coping mechanism for me to see. "Why no one ever will. And why you will go back to hating me once we're done here."
It felt as though I had finally finished a puzzle with five thousand pieces. This was it. Had Roman made himself so unlovable to protect his feelings? Were all his stupid quirks just means to scare away girls so that they would stop liking him? I couldn't help but pity him-- beneath his harsh exterior, I could sense who he was beneath all of it. In a flash of emotions, I reached out to touch his face with a wary, gentle touch. 
Roman's eyes widened, confused, as I moved away the strand of hair that strayed from the rest.
"I know you said this wouldn't be easy," I said, voice soft. "Whatever would ensue between us. And I spent a lot of time thinking about that, actually, and I think the answer is that you just make it hard for yourself." Sighing, I let my hands rest against his shoulders, watching his every move and reaction. It was obvious that he was caught off guard. "I pity you, Roman. But I thank you for making me realize how much guts one must have to feel... Why are you so scared?"
Roman just stared at me, his breathing coming out in shallow breaths through his nose. He stood as if frozen to his spot, and his hand left my hair, falling to his side as his eyes never left mine. "I'm not scared," he eventually said.
"You're terrified,"
"No,"
"There's no point denying, it's really fucking obvious--"
"No, it isn't!" Roman snarled, grabbing my hands, and prying them off of him. "Maybe I just don't like you in that way, have you ever considered that?"
I shrugged; "I have. But it still doesn't change the fact that I can read the fear on your face like an open fucking book,"
Groaning, Roman let out an exasperated sigh. He let go of my hands, the fury apparent in his unsteady breathing. It was obvious that he had never confronted his issues head-on, and that he didn't like the process one bit. "You need to watch your mouth,"
"Or what?" It was as though my fear had escaped me, staring him down with challenge burning its way through my veins. "You're going to tell Letha we fucked or whatever? Go ahead, see what I care! Just know that I will be telling the whole school that your dick is smaller than my pinky if you do."
Roman's eye twitched as he let out a guttural growl, body tensing up as he balled his fists, one of them returning to my hair. It was clear that I had angered him; he grabbed a fistful, yanking my head upward with a force that made me wince, pulling me flush against him. It was at this moment that I felt something press up against my stomach-- my eyes widened with the realization that he was hard. "Do you still like me?" he asked, his breath tickling the underside of my nose. 
When I refused to answer, Roman took my silence as a yes. "You're going to hurt yourself if you continue to,"
"Wasn't it you who proclaimed me a masochist?" I answered, a smirk forming on my lips. Something told me that I had him cornered. 
And I was right-- it was Roman's turn to go silent, staring into my eyes as multiple emotions flashed before him. Standing like this with him was almost comforting; I had finally deciphered him. I knew that he had practically built himself a fortress of hate and fired the canons at any signs of intrusions. He was so desperately human right now-- it was making me dizzy. Or was that just his harsh grip on my hair? 
"Roman?"
A hum.
"You can kiss me now if you want to,"
The hand in my hair loosened its grip, and I watched as Roman inhaled a long breath, no longer conflicted.
And so our lips came together in the alley, a rather hungry kiss ensuing. My hands went up into Roman's hair, letting out soft gasps against him as he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me closer to him with a burning need. I could taste the remnants of the chocolate flavoured ice-cream on his tongue, the sweetness mixing in with the roughness of our kiss. I wondered whether he could taste the vanilla on mine-- chocolate and vanilla were my favourite mix, anyway.
I knew there was a possibility of Letha spotting us if she walked our way, but it only made me more desperate for Roman. I had missed him dearly, the memories of our last kiss having haunted me through every hour of every day. There was no doubt in it now-- he wanted me too. It gave me such an immense rush, along with the satisfaction of feeling how hard he was against me, the throbbing of his cock continuing against my stomach as he pressed me further into the wall behind me. Something felt wrong about him being aroused after our fight, especially now that we were practically in public, but I knew I didn't want to push him away just yet. 
I was completely breathless by the time Roman shifted, his thigh now pressing up against the apex of my own. Caught off guard, I whimpered as he grabbed my hips, moving my hips against him as the kiss deepened, growing further needy. I could feel it in my bones; not only did he want me, he needed me. This was just about the biggest high I had ever had. Roman Godfrey-- all mine in this moment.
The friction between my legs, feeling his cock continuously brush up against my stomach through our clothes, had me gripping his shoulder, disconnecting our kiss to catch my breath. My head rolled back against the wall behind me as I pondered how I had allowed this to happen, not used to pleasure caused by others. 
Roman's fingers wrapped around my throat, holding me in place as we rocked against each other, lips hovering above one another before they came crashing together once more, unable to keep away. I let out a broken whimper, my hands flying back up into his hair, pulling him closer as pleasure coursed through my veins in a way I hadn't ever felt before. I couldn't quite put my finger on what this was, but I had never been this certain that I liked it.
I let out a broken moan as my head rolled back once more, which in turn had Roman connecting our lips, muffling any sounds. This was where I was reminded that we were in public, wondering if I had gone absolutely mad-- I blamed it all on him. His beautiful eyes, his strong arms, and his addicting, soft lips. As Roman continued to grind me up against his thigh, pulling away to watch my lips part and my body squirm in pleasure, I gazed up at the way the corners of his mouth turned up into his signature smirk. He knew exactly what he was doing-- messing with me like this, practically in public. 
It took a lot of willpower for me to push him away, whimpering slightly at the loss of contact. "We-- We can't," I said, catching my breath. 
Like this, I could see how disheveled Roman's hair was, how his lips looked swollen with kisses, and it made my stomach flip-- how was it possible for someone to be so beautiful, even when completely unraveled? 
Roman shrugged, grinning from ear to ear. It was clear that he was scanning my look of arousal; "My car is right around the corner,"
"Okay...?"
Leaning forward, Roman captured my lips in a short kiss. "I can park it somewhere desolate," he said, nipping at my lower lip. 
I couldn't help but shiver-- that sounded really fucking nice at the moment, but I knew I had to control myself. And I wasn't about to lose my virginity in a car? "Another time," I mumbled, struggling to catch my breath. Who would've known that arousal could cloud the mind like this? 
Roman nodded, accepting my words as a promise. "I'll hold you to that,"
Oh no-- This again? Great.
Just great.
(a/n: here are the links to PART 1, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9!<33 thank you for reading!!)
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the-ancient-dragons · 5 months ago
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Welcome back to Overcomplicating the Pyrrhian Tribes! This week: the beloved RainWings!!
You know what's up. Joy Ang and Tui are so cool and I am just me.
Details and explanation below!
Otherwise, next week are the chilly IceWings! See you then!!!
More overcomplicated dragons.
I knew the RainWings would be really important, and I think they turned out the best of all the ones I've done. I think they're my favourite because they are basically the perfect mix of extra realism spice without altering Joy's design too much. The SkyWing design is awesome and I love it to bits, but it is one of the two that are the farthest from canon.
As for the RainWing.... I had. So. Much. FUN. I heavily used chameleons and snakes - they're basically the two main species on my research board - but there is a dash of cuttlefish and frilled lizard in there. Where, you ask? Well if you look closely, all over the RainWing are little tiny flecks of darker colour. I found a beautiful reference of a close-up on a cuttlefish eye. Its skin is dotted in thousands of little marks and I thought that would be perfect for the RainWing, who can camouflage just as well as them. I don't know if it's been discussed in canon but I bet they could animate their scales more than just colour shifting - cuttlefish are known for using their rapidly shifting patterns to hypnotize prey. RainWings could do it too, sort of like Ka from Disney's 2D animated Jungle Book.
Speaking of Ka - snakes. I love snakes. The head structure of the RainWing here is very smooth and rounded with muscles based on snakes like the python. I was even going to originally draw them in a venom striking pose and got as far as completing the lineart, but ultimately decided it wouldn't fit the calm portraits of the other tribes.
Will you see it in the future? Hell yeah! Pure, unhinged, magical death spit. Looking at it now I might try to alter it to be a full piece of Glory attacking Scarlet or Crocodile.
In the striking pose you can see the frills much better, but I still took my time on this serene pose (this is where the frilled lizard influence comes in). If you notice that I've drawn every scale (every single scale) then, yes, I am insane. If you didn't know that yet, you know it now. You have to draw guide lines and follow them meticulously while you wonder why you don't make a scale brush, and then cry because you know the randomness and imperfections that come from drawing a thousand circles is how it looks natural. The eye area is actually my favourite part, since drawing dragon eyelids was the original inspiration for doing this. Did I mention that? I wanted to draw eyelids.
EYELIDS.
I digress. Besides the eyelids, I like the frills on the action pose, but this pose is where I like the body scales more. When zooming in on my chameleon colour refs, I noticed the very rhythmical distribution of their scales and figured I would give it a try. They actually do have extra large circular scales along their bodies, which is where I guess the canon RainWing design gets it from. Very clever, Joy!
Anyway, on this version, those small circular scales appear on the face. Not only that, but I added a bit of influence from the snouts of my ref chameleons by extending the nose bridges to wrap around the nose horn. They blend in so seamlessly and that's the reason why I love this design - it's subtle, barely there, mostly Joy but a little extra.
Wow, I talk too much. If you're here, thank you! It's not mandatory to read, but very appreciated. I heard once that visitors at an art gallery look at each piece an average of 2-3 seconds. Or was it 3-6? Idk, but it was shockingly short, and ever since then I've tried to encourage myself to pay more respect to other artists and glean their work for little details I skip after that quick glance. I could talk so much more about these designs but that would be like an hour long video, each, lol. If you have questions about anything, ask away!
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copperbadge · 2 years ago
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Hey Sam! Since it's currently AO3 donation time, I'm wondering what your thoughts are on it? I'm asking because you've written RPF and it's one of many "anti-AO3/anti-AO3 donations" people's favourite things to bring up when they're complaining about AO3 getting so many donations that it continuously obtains an excess of its donation goal whenever donation time rolls around? (Wow, how many times can I say "donation" in an ask?) Sorry if this question bothers you! I don't mean to offend or annoy.
Hey anon! Sorry it took a while to get to this, I don't even know if the drive is still going on, but the question came in while I was traveling and I didn't really have the time for stuff that wasn't travel-related. In any case, let's dig in! (I am not offended, no worries.)
So really there are two issues here and as much as some people who are critical of AO3 want to conflate them, they are different. While some criticism of AO3 may be valid, rhetoric against AO3 tends to misinterpret both in separate ways.
First there's the issue of what AO3 hosts -- RPF, yes, but more broadly, varied content that some people find distasteful or think should be illegal, which is a misunderstanding of the purpose of the archive and more broadly a dangerous attitude towards the concept of freedom of expression.
Second, there's the issue of AO3 generally outpacing its fundraising goals while not allowing monetization, which is a misunderstanding of the legal status of AO3 and to an extent a misunderstanding of philanthropy as a whole.
The longer I watch debates about content go on, the more I come to the conclusion that I was fortunate to have a teacher who really wanted to instill in us an understanding of free speech not as a policy but as an ongoing dialogue. It's not only that freedom of expression "protects you from the government, not the Justin" as the meme goes, but also that freedom of expression is not a static thing. It's an ongoing process of identifying what we find harmful in society and what we want to do about it.
Should the freedom to shout "Fire!" in a crowded theater be restricted? Should the freedom to yell slurs at drag performers? Should the freedom to teach prepubescent kids about gender, sexuality, and/or safe sex? Should the freedom to wear a leather puppy hood at Pride? Who gets to say, and why?
I was nine when my teacher did a unit on freedom of speech and the intersection of "harm prevention" and "censorship", which is (and should be) a discussion, not a set of ironclad rules. This ambiguity has thus been with me for over thirty years, and I'm comfortable with the ambiguity, with the process; I'm not sure a lot of people critical of AO3's content truly are. Perhaps some can't be, especially those affected by hate speech, but RPF is not hate speech. It's just fiction. Or is fiction "just fiction"? This is a question society as a whole is grappling with, although fandom seems to be a little out ahead of society in terms of how explicitly we discuss it.
The idea that prose can incite violence or cause harm is both valid to examine (witness the rise of fascism on the radio in the 20s, on Facebook and Twitter in the past ten years; they're very similar processes) and a very slippery slope. Because again: who decides what harm is, and what causes it, and what we do about it? Our values align us with certain beliefs, but those are only our values, not universal truths. So AO3 is part of the ongoing question of harm and benefit both to society and individuals.
AO3 itself, however, has a fairly defined policy that it is not meant to police content; it is an archive, not a bookstore or a school board. AO3 refines its TOS and policies as necessary, but the goal is always open access and as much freedom of expression as possible, and if that's uncomfortable for some people then that's a discussion we have to have; ignoring it won't make it go away. But it has to be a discussion, it can't be a unilateral change to the archive's TOS or a series of snaps and clapbacks, and I don't see a lot of people ready to move beyond flinging insults. Perhaps because they were taught a much more binary view of freedom of expression than I was.
So, self-evidently, I support AO3 and I don't have a problem with RPF. Whether other people do is something we're going to have to get to grips with, and that's likely to be a process that is still going on when most of us are dust. I'd rather have a century of ambiguity than a wrong answer tomorrow, anyway.
But whether AO3 hosts RPF is truly a separate issue from its donation drives, because it's a criticism some people level at the site which exists whether it's fundraising or not. So people can criticize AO3's open policy and they can give it as a reason not to support the site, but it's just one aspect of the archive and the fundraising as a whole should be examined separately.
I think AO3's fundraisers are deeply misunderstood (sometimes on purpose) because even people who are anticapitalist get a little crazy when money gets involved, and this is, to fandom, a lot of money -- a few hundred thousand, reliably, every fundraiser. To me, a fundraiser that pulls in three hundred grand is almost quaint; my current nonprofit pulls in better than ten million a year and my previous employer had an endowment of several billion dollars. At my old job I didn't even bother researching people who couldn't give us a hundred grand.
On the other hand, AO3 is an extreme and astounding outlier in the nonprofit world, because basically it's the only one of its kind to work the way it does. It is entirely volunteer-run on the operational side (ie: tag wranglers, coders, lawyers, etc) and has no fundraising staff (gift officers, researchers, outreach officers) as far as I'm aware. To pull in three hundred grand from individual one-time donations, without any paid staff and without even a volunteer fundraising officer? That's insane. That doesn't happen. Except at AO3.
What people misunderstand, however, is the basic status of a nonprofit, which is a legal status, not simply a social one. (I'm adding in some corrections here since it gets complicated and the terminology can be important!) The Organization for Transformative Works, the parent of AO3, is a nonprofit, which indicates how it was incorporated as an organization; additionally it is registered federally as tax-exempt, which carries certain perks, like not paying sales tax, and certain duties, like making their financials transparent to a certain extent. (Religious nonprofits are exempt from the transparency requirement.) If you're interested in more about nonprofits and tax-exempt status a reader dropped a great article here.
Nonprofits, unlike for-profit companies, cannot pay a share of their income to stakeholders. Nonprofits don't have financial stakeholders, only donors. They can have employees and pay them a salary -- that's me, for example -- but if a nonprofit pulls in $10M in donations, my salary is paid from that, I don't get a percentage and nobody else does either. That's what it means to be a nonprofit -- the money above operational costs goes back into the organization. The donations we (and AO3) receive must be plowed under and used for outreach, server maintenance, further fundraising, services expansion, et cetera. You can see this in the 990 forms on Guidestar or ProPublica, or in their more accessible breakdowns on Charity Navigator. Nonprofits that do not put the majority of their income towards service provision tend to get audited and lose their nonprofit status. So nobody's getting paid from all that money, and the overage that isn't spent goes into what is basically a savings account in the name of the nonprofit. (I'm vastly simplifying but that's the gist.) Using that money for personal purposes is illegal. It's called "private inurement" and there's a good article here about it. The money belongs to the OTW as a concept, not to anyone in or of the OTW.
So the biggest misunderstanding that I see in people who are mad at AO3 fundraisers is that "they" are getting all this money (who "they" are is never clearly stated but I'm pretty sure people think @astolat has a special wifi router that runs on burning hundred dollar bills) while "we" can't monetize our fanfic. But "they" get nothing -- nobody even earns a salary from AO3 -- and you can easily prove that by looking at the 990 forms they file with the government, which are required to be made public. You can see the most recently available 990, from 2020, here at Guidestar. Page seven will show you the "highest compensated" employees, all of whom are earning zero dollars or nonmonetary perks (that's the three columns on the right).
Either AO3 is entirely volunteer-run or someone's Doing A Real Fraud. The money the OTW spends is documented (that's page 10 and 11 primarily) and while they may pay for, say, the travel and lodging expenses of a lawyer going to DC to defend a freedom-of-expression case, they don't pay the lawyer for their time, or give them a cut of the income.
Despite what you've read, the reason "we" can't monetize our fanfics on AO3 has nothing to do with the site being the product of volunteer handiwork or AO3 having it in their terms of service or it being considered gauche by some to do so; it's because
IT'S ILLEGAL.
I cannot say this loudly enough: It is against the law for a nonprofit to be used by its staff, volunteers, or beneficiaries to earn direct profit from the services provided by the nonprofit.
You can be paid to work at one, but you cannot side-hustle by selling your handmade friendship bracelets for personal gain on the nonprofit's website. If the nonprofit knowingly allows monetization of its services, it can lose nonprofit status, be fined, be hit with back taxes, and a lot of other unpleasant bullshit can go down, including prosecution of those involved for fraud. If you put a ko-fi link on your fanfic, you are breaking the law, and if AO3 allows it, they are too.
Okay, that was a sidebar, but in some ways not, because it gets to the heart of the real complaints about AO3 fundraising, which is that people in fandom are sick or unhoused or in some form of need and other people in fandom are giving to AO3, a fan site that is financially stable, instead of giving to peoples' gofundmes or dropping money in their Ko-Fi or Paypal. And while it is a legitimate grievance that there are people who are in such desperate need while we live in an era of unprecedented abundance, that's not AO3's fault. AO3 doesn't solicit actively, there's no unasked-for mailings or calls from a gift officer. They just put a banner up on their website, and people give. (Again, this is incredibly outlier behavior in the nonprofit world, I'd do a case study on it but the conclusion would just be "shit's real, yo.") You might as well be mad that people give to their local food bank instead of someone's ko-fi.
You cannot lay at AO3's feet the fact that people want to give to AO3 instead of to your fundraiser. That's a choice individuals have made, and while you can engage with them in terms of why they made the philanthropic choices they did, to blame an organization they supported rather than the person who made the choice to give is not only incorrect but futile, and unlikely to win anyone over to supporting you. We know from research that guilt is not a tremendous motivator of philanthropy.
It is also not necessarily a binary choice; just because AO3 gets a hundred grand in $5 donations doesn't mean most of the people giving don't also give $5 elsewhere. I support the OTW on occasion, and I also fundraise for UNICEF and the Chicago Parks Foundation and BAGLY and others, in addition to giving monthly to several nonprofits that I have longterm relationships with -- my alma mater, the animal rescue where I got the Cryptids, my shul. And I give, occasionally and anonymously, to fundraisers that pass through Radio Free Monday, which are mainly individuals in need, because I was once in need and now I pay it forward. These are the choices I have made. Nobody twisted my arm. I respond poorly to someone making the attempt to do so by attacking places I've given.
I think the upshot is, after all of this that I've written, that we cannot begin to come to grips with questions of institutional inequality in philanthropy, or freedom of expression and censorship, until people actually understand what's going on, and too few do. So all I can do is try and explain, and hopefully create a forum for people to learn and grow when it comes to charitable giving.
Archive Of Our Own and the Organization for Transformative Works are products of our community and as that community changes, we will necessarily continue to re-evaluate what aspects of it mean and how AO3/OTW express the community sentiment. I hope that the ongoing discussion of support for AO3 also leads to people learning more about their philanthropic options. But criticizing AO3 for fundraising by attacking it for fulfilling one of its stated purposes is silly, and attempting to guilt people into giving in the ways one thinks they should give rather than how they do give is just going to make one extremely unlikable.
As members of this community, we have to be a part of the push and pull, but it's difficult to do that competently in ignorance. So, I do my best to be knowledgeable and to educate my readers, and I hope others will do the same.
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kenyummy · 5 months ago
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MISTER TUTOR ꒰⚘݄꒱ YUKIMIYA KENYU
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[NSFW] SYNOPSIS : yukimiya kenyu is your tutor. by extension, he is also your favourite victim to tease. also by extension, you two always end up in the exact same way each and every tutoring session.
note : hi this is smut !!!! mostly pwp so heh. heh. theres a severe lack of kenyu fics on tumblr and everywhere honestly so i decided to be a good samaritan and do my part in adding to his slowly growing fic collection. i love love love kenyu hes my boyfriend forever and ever <333 also reposted from my wattpad which u should so check out btdubs
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Yukimiya isn't sure when, but eventually, tutoring you took up a huge portion of his life. First assigned for a homework task that you had not completed—his teacher made him tutor you on how to do it and exactly how to hand it in.
Then, his math teacher made him study with you, since you were falling so far behind. You and him spent hours studying together, but nothing ever worked. Either you got him too riled up to continue this session (which really, led into a session of something else), or you yourself were way too unfocused to even consider actually trying to learn from the boy in front of you.
Either way, you and he did not mesh well together, especially in a study-like area. In a library—you were far too loud. At home (either one of your houses)—he was practically asking you to feel him up, God forbid you two were left alone in the house, as well. Even at school, you kept finding yourself getting distracted by the multitude of people that pass by, and every little thing around you intrigued you more than your work ever did.
You never read your assigned novels, something which he couldn't understand. It was just reading, and yet, you acted like it was the hardest thing in the world to do? Whatever the reason was (perhaps you could simply not read), Yukimiya needed to find a strategy that worked for you.
As your (self-proclaimed) tutor, was it not his job to make it so you don't flunk every single test? He thought so.
So, he went through various strategies with you. Studying in timeslots—it didn't work, because when you took a break, you decided that you didn't feel like going back to doing boring old work. Cramming everything in at the last minute—this worked a little better, but was still a giant failure. Sure, it had you actually studying, but you forgot everything as soon as you walked into the test room since your mind had no time to actually process it all.
Whatever it was—it was like your entire being refused to study like it would kill you (from how badly your grades are dropping, he isn't sure that's the only thing that will). A vivid procrastinator, that's what you are. Still, Yukimiya Kenyu is nothing but determined. When he's set on something —you best believe he'll go out there and get it like a champ.
That's why he was sure that this study method—tailor made to fit you—would absolutely, undoubtedly work.
You were surprised when Yukimiya asked you if you wished to spend this week's weekend study session at his house. (He isn't dumb, in fact, he's the complete opposite—and he knows exactly where you two "studying" at a private place like home leads).
So why did Yukimiya ask this? Has he perhaps turned over to the dark side? The thought of that—and perhaps, at what's to come—makes your stomach twist in excitement.
The day came without so much of a hitch. You spent the last few days of the week lazing as usual—your mind couldn't leave the thought of this weekend's "study" sesh with your favourite boy alone.
You wondered this, even as you took a train and made your way to his house—you've been there so often that his address was practically branded into your brain—and you thought about all the things he'd make you do.
Your face flushes.
As soon as you ring the doorbell—you stand outside waiting for less than a minute—you catch sight of Yukimiya Kenyu himself. Clad in a flowy, white dress shirt, and baggy grey sweatpants—he looked deliciously domestic, and it made your heart race in your chest. Especially when he spares you that smile—that godawful, lady-killer smile that could knock somebody dead—you think you may faint on the spot.
"You're just on time. My parents are going out to see my grandma, so it'll just be me and you alone for a few hours. Should be more than enough time for substantial studying, no?"
Alone? Few hours? Come on, Yukki, you know me better than that.
Now, you were starting to grow suspicious at his deliberate choice of wording and his all-too-well grin. Yukimiya Kenyu... what are you planning? Are you actually planning on getting any work done? No, not really. But that doesn't mean you can't be suspicious of this pretty boy in front of you. A studious, straight-A nerd would surely not fall into his tempting desires without at least a little bit of prodding—which is exactly why you're so wary of this whole setup.
You're led to the familiar sight of his room, somewhere you've been countless times before, same as always. You make yourself comfortable on his bed and watch as he pulls in a second chair to sit at his desk. He sits down at the one he just brought in, and motions for you to take a seat beside him on the chair he had originally had on his room.
His smile is so guileless, you can hardly get a good read on what he's feeling. It almost makes you nervous. Still, you obey, and take a seat, watching silently as he pulls out a few binders and unclipped a piece of paper. A mock test.
Wow, already? He was making you go through a practice test based on the subjects you're learning in math at the moment. Well, this wasn't too surprising. Yukimiya usually went through these with you anyway, so he could get a feel for how much you know about the subject already.
He snuffles his chair closer, eyes gleaming behind lens, "We should spend today going over these questions. If that doesn't take much time, we can just spend the rest of the day chilling out."
Yeah, we all know what you mean by "chilling out".
You nod, back slumped into the chair behind you and you groan, "Ugh... that sounds boring at hell... Can't we do something more fun, Yukki?"
With a cheeky grin and a knowing glance at the bed behind you—you think you make your intentions abundantly clear. You're certain he knows what you mean—this is always how you get what you want, after all.
By now, he'd be pink-cheeked, or perhaps even sloppily making out with you already, but not this time. He keeps the same blank, air-headed expression that he's plastered on his face since this whole tutoring thing started. "No, not this time. I've thought of a way to help you remember the fornulas, actually. I'm sure this strategy will work."
You raise a brow, clearly suspicious of his judgement. He said that same thing the past three times, and you ended up failing said three tests. "Really?"
He nods, smiling, "Really. Let's just start, and I'll try to incorporate it as naturally as possible."
Strange choice of words—but you like to trust your Yukki, so you don't question it. You and him quickly flip to the first page, and it starts with a question on area for a shape you do not recognise—with all sorts of numerals and numbers that it already makes your head spin.
"Do you understand how to solve for x?" He asks, and you think it's easier to straight up say no, rather than lie and look stupid, so you shake your head. "Alright. I'll try to explain it the best I can."
He starts talking, but it's hard to focus when his big hand is taut on your bare thigh, rubbing up and down mindlessly on the skin. You didn't realise he'd come so close to you—he's practically pressed up against your side.
Whatever. You try not to think too much of it. You focus on the sound of his words and sort of figure out how to solve what they're asking, "So, to find x, first you have to use the measurements already given, and then times that?"
He nods, "Yes, but that's not the end. You then still have to find y and z."
You groan, running a hand through your hair and sighing loudly—showing off your exhaustion five minutes into the session, "Ugh... this is taking forever... is this shit seriously on the test?"
Yukki leans up and presses a peck to your forehead. It feels oddly romantic, it makes you blush, "I know it's long, but you'll get it. Just focus, alright? I promise you'll understand if you do."
You really hope his mystery study method actually works.
Yukki continues trying to explain the concepts and formulas on how to solve the shape on the paper—and you're trying, you really are, but his fingers inch up, further and further and it makes it really damn hard to concentrate.
(Curse him, and the stupid effect he has on you.)
His hand stops moving for a moment, and you finally feel like you can breathe again. His words finally stop sounding like a jumbled mess and more like actual teaching, "I get it! You just..."
You proceed to re-explain the concepts he brought up, and worked out the question on the paper with ease. Yukimiya grins, perfect pearly whites behind his teeth and he's clearly proud, "Good girl. You're actually listening to me this time. Let's move on to the next question."
An algebraic expression—so many letters, numbers and symbols and you don't know what half of them mean. Yukki takes one good look at your face and understands exactly what's going through your head—absolutely nothing.
He begins to explain the equation to you once more—his hand inches up even further. It has practically disappeared under your skirt.
Is he doing this on purpose? You can't help but wonder, heat crawling up your neck and your stomach feels tense with anticipation. Usually, you'd think he would be—but he's not even looking at you, completely and utterly focused on the question.
Maybe he doesn't even realise.
The thought makes your skin crawl, but you push down these feelings (and try to ignore the soft touch of his fingers on your inner thighs), attempting at solving the question.
He shakes his head, brown curls falling over his pretty eyes. "No, that's not how you do it. I'll show you."
He leans forward and takes the pen from your hand—fingers brushing over yours—and wastes on time in solving the question while explaining its properties and what steps you need to take. Yukki is a good teacher. He's smart, he's thorough, and he makes sure you understand everything before you two move on.
But you really, really, can't focus because his fingers are now right atop your clothed cunt, stroking softly—it's driving you mad—and languidly, like it didn't do anything to you.
You hiss through your teeth when his index finger brushes over your clit, "Yukki..."
He looks so genuinely confused you almost believe he does not realise what he's doing, "Hm? What? Do you not understand?"
You furrow your brows in an angry motion, "No, are you kidding? You... You're—" The words die in your mouth as soon as you catch sight of the glowing, very much teasing, smirk on his lips.
Fuck. He does know what he's doing. Fucking prick.
You swallow thickly when his fingertips press a little harder, "Is this seriously the strategy you were talking about?"
He still acts oblivious, despite the way he's unabashedly glowing with joy, "I have no idea what you're talking about. Let's just get back to the question. Do you understand it?"
You suck up your pride and take the pen from his grasp—solving the question easily. Yukimiya places his free hand on your head and pats it as a reward—his fingers stop moving so you have time to recuperate your thoughts—but this process soon repeats itself through the next three questions.
You can hardly think straight—but, a thought passes over your mind that maybe if you finish this up as soon as possible—he will finally stop teasing.
You find yourself working as quickly as possible—the sight is enough to please him. Perhaps this strategy really was working. Yukimiya thinks he's struck gold.
You look just like a regular diligent student—well, as diligent as a student can get with a hand shiver with their skirt. You're solving these questions with minimal difficulty and you're actually showing your working out. He hasn't felt this proud since he brought his pet turtle to show and tell in seventh grade (you teased him relentlessly for weeks after that, but he took like like a champ out of love for his pet).
... But still.
Perhaps a part of Yukimiya is rather selfish. A little voice that would never speak unless he found himself caught in a situation like this with you speaks up inside his brain—which makes his eyes glaze over with a sultry gleam and a small, almost harmless thought appear in his head.
What if...
With his sudden movement, you jolt in your chair and  hands fly to his wrists, clutching it over the fabric of your skirt. "Y... Yukki—!!! W—What—"
His two middle fingers plunge deep into your cunt and immediately take up a relentless pace—your chest begins to heave as he consistently keeps pressing against that soft, squishy spot inside of you that makes your mind fog up.
There's no freaking way you can act like— The thought dies in your throat when the heel of his palm rubs against your clit and you bite back a small whine.
The small little clicking sound that is made each time he thrusts his fingers in and out is almost inaudible in your ears when he begins to speak, lips brushing against your ear, "Keep going, gorgeous. Don't let me stop you now. You're doing so good."
Your leg jitters against him when he smiles against your ear and he feels your cunt pulse.
Still, you pick up your shaky fingers and try to keep a steady grip of the pen—it's hard when all you want is to throw your head back on his shoulder and sit there all pretty for him—but you know better than to ignore Yukimiya Kenyu.
Despite his gleeful demeanor, he seems to take joy in asserting himself over you. You wondered if maybe he just had a sick kink.
Every time you came close to solving the question—he would press harder and harder, and every time you tried to lean back onto his shoulder, he would stop abruptly and ask you what you think you are doing.
You just could not win with Yukimiya Kenyu.
He's driving you crazy. Maybe this is how you make him feel on a daily basis—but you actually think you're going to go mental from this torture. Your handwriting had gotten noticeably messier and more shaky every time you tried to solve that question—even when you did, his pace was absolutely relentless. He did not let up.
"Yukki!" You whine out, cheeks all puffed like a cute little fish and you glare at him with so much anger he actually almost feels bad for a second. Almost.
He takes far too much enjoyment in something like this to feel any menial sense of guilt toward you. Besides, it's not like you didn't have this coming. Despite all this, he knows you will take whatever gives you graciously because you are absolutely enamored with him.
(He thinks that, with a small smile. It's okay for him to say that, right? It's not like it's not reciprocated.)
"Yes?" He responds, slowly, teasingly. He can feel your thigh start to shake as a sign of your impending orgasm, so he starts to slow his thrusts—the tantalizingly sluggish drag of his fingertips across your walls give you a little more than nothing.
You could scream in frustration. He grabs ahold of your thigh and tugs it over his left leg, so that you don't get a chance to close your thighs are his hand—it makes it all the more torturous.
Your words are breathy and heavy on your tongue, "Yukki... lemme... please let me—"
His thrusts speed up, and his thumb begins to rub hard circles on your clit. Your chest heaves with each breath and you start to moan sweetly into his ear. You throw your head back, onto his shoulder and grip onto your skirt—but this time he does not stop. In fact, he seems to go even faster.
You can practically envision the smug expression he must have on his face at this moment—his ego fed and arrogance through the roof. "What? You wanna cum?"
Mindlessly, and desperately, you nod. White-hot fire starts to churn in your lower belly and it spreads to the tips of your toes when he keeps rubbing harder. You're getting close, with your stomach twisting and heart beginning to beat in your ears.
"Y—Yeah... please..." Somehow, you manage right choke that out and whimper right into his ear.
Your thighs begin to shake. He does not stop. "You wanna feel good, gorgeous? Go ahead." He presses a soft, chaste kiss to your temple—an almost laughable contrast to how you're nearly brought to tears by your orgasm, lower half shaking and rutting up into his unrelenting touch with a sense of desperation.
He likes it when you're desperate. It makes you all the more cute.
He helps you ride out your pleasure, all with a pretty grin. Your babbling thanks and praises for his fingers soon die down when your post-orgasmic haze hits you, and you lean back into his touch with low breaths.
After a few minutes of him just holding you like this, hand placed lightly on your thigh—you look up at him, then down, then back up again. "You want me to help you out with that?"
He seems to be slightly taken aback by your bold offer—despite moments before, he sported a cocky smirk and sultry gaze—but manages to gather his composure quickly enough to answer.
He shakes his head and gazes at you kindly, "Oh, you don't have to. I still need to teach you some more formulas—"
Your brows furrow and your remove your leg from over his. "Yukki—don't be like that. Lemme take care of you, okay? Yeah..."
A smile falls upon your lips as his cheeks grow pink. Even when your duck down below his desk—it feels all so surreal. Even when you tug down his grey sweats that did not hide anything, it almost feels like a figment of his imagination.
It no longer does when he feels the fiery enclosure that is your lips wrap around the redden leaky tip of his cock. Yukimiya slaps a hand over his mouth and squeezes his eyes taut shut. His heart is beating a million miles an hour in his chest. He feels like he cannot breathe, but the air gets knocked out his lungs all the same when your move your mouth down.
You use your hand to spread his pre around the base of him—jerking off what your mouth did not fit, until you go a little lower. He thinks his face may be on fire. The hand that does not cover the lower half of his face grips the edge of his table with full force.
He dares not to look down at you and dares not to catch the nasty, foxish gleam in your eyes.
You go down more, then back up. You press a chaste, loving kiss to the bulging tip, then, you go back down again. This time, a little further. You keep doing this until your jaw relaxes enough for your nose to press against the smooth skin of his abdomen—you allow your hands to wander his hard stomach.
"[name]..." His voice trails off shakily, a small moan escaping his lips as his hips jerk forward. You choke a little, but keep going. His glasses are growing foggy from his hot, heavy breaths and he doesn't think he's ever felt any hotter.
The room temperature must have shot up by at least twenty degrees. He feels searing.
Yukimiya's heart nearly beats out of his chest when you pull back once more, staring directly into his half-lidded, cloudy amber irises, and gave a sloppy kiss to the cute little freckle that was on the pulsing head of his dick.
His breathing picks up and his chest heaves. Fuck.
He groans aloud as your mouth sinks back down and your throat presses around his cock. His hips jerk forward again, and he takes this reaction as his opportunity to start thrusting. You suddenly sit still with your jaw as open as it would allow you to be—as Yukimiya lazily thrusts into your mouth.
His hand entangled itself into your hair and he grabs a tight hold of your head as he moves you to his heart's content. The wet choking noises that you make when your lips are snugly wrapped around the base of his cock give him butterflies.
He looks down at you, sweat beading on the side of his face and low grunts escaping his lips, "Ffffuck.... So... mmmm..."
He can hardly firm actual words—his head lolls back and his eyes shut in pure bliss.
Searing hot electricity zaps through his veins—his abdomen contracts, and it's a telltale sign he's getting closer. You use your tongue as much as possible while his thrusts are getting wild and erratic —his groans soon turn into desperate puffs of air.
"[name]...! Gonna..." His hot and heavy pants ring in your ears and his low groans are such a noise you'd never expect to come out of such a perfect pretty boy's mouth. He pants hard. "[name]...!! [name]...!!"
It seems your name is the only word he can formulate at the moment, when his cock twitches in your mouth and spurts of white shoot out the tip right into your throat.
He grabs your hair hard and presses you as close to his abdomen as you can get—hips shaky as you squeal and your throat instinctively tightens—the whine he lets out is something that will forever be imprinted into your memory.
You nearly cough it all up when he finally pulls out of your lips—breathing growing steady and shoulders relaxed into a calm posture—but you force yourself to swallow, and you give him the cutest smile you can possibly muster when you do.
Yukimiya stares down at you with hazy honeyed eyes filled with unbridled lust—hidden only behind the fogged up lens of his rounded glasses. "[name]... You..."
He looks embarrassed when you stick out your tongue at him and it is perfectly clean. He places a big hand on your head—a stark difference compared to his previous way of gripping your hair—he strokes it softly under his touch. "Good girl..."
He chuckles.
Yukimiya Kenyu looks absolutely debauched—you don't think you've ever seena prettier sight. His shirt is disheveled and his cheeks are a searing hot red. He is absolutely gorgeous.
That why, when you crawl up from your kneeling position, and he cradles your aching red knees when you place yourself flat on his lap, you kiss him with all the love you can muster. You do not feel much love—but all of the adoration you do feel is directed solely at Yukimiya.
"So, how did I do, Mister Tutor?" A teasing, coy smile places itself on your lips when you pull away, hand sneakily running itself all over his hard torso.
The smile he beams at you is nothing less than radiant. "A+."
© KENYUMMY 2024
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maxverstappendefender · 10 months ago
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Hi I was wondering if u can make an imagine with max verstappen where the reader is an athlete also (tennis player please 😮‍💨😮‍💨😭😭🥹🥹) and she is also from Netherlands
her and max were like in the same school or neighbors or even Victoria’s friend and her and max used to be dating since they were young teenagers but they broke up because of their careers (more like she broke up with him lol🤭) and they meet again at a gala or a wedding when they are at the top of their game her being world no.1 and many grand slams winner and him being world champion and then they have a confrontation with a lot of angst and yelling and max being heartbroken 💔💔🤌🏻🤌🏻
other part to this request: "Also about the max and athlete reader like if u can make it inspired by “call out my name” by The Weeknd 🥲"
a/n: this is such a good idea, i love some good angst. i made it a smau and also written parts (more towards the hend). i don't know much about tennis but i tried. the google translate dutch is probably bad but that's fine. hopefully i did your idea justice <3
warnings: profanity (?), alcohol
my masterlist !
The Dutch Athletes
yourusername posted on instagram!
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yourusername and that's a wrap on the lovely game of tennis, back to training for next season :)
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user PROUD TO BE DUTCH BC OF THIS LADY AND THIS LADY ONLY
liked by yourusername
landonorris you're serving! (do you get it? im so funny)
-> yourusername ty lan (the tennis jokes are never funny)
-> landonorris not even a pity laugh.
user i see a certain someone hiding in the likes
-> user 🤺🤺🤺 be gone sir
victoriaverstappen cannot wait to see you next week!
-> yourusername i miss my favourite dutch person
-> user max is punching the wall rn
user wait, im new. why is everyone hating on max verstappen here?
-> user y/n dated him a while back but they ended it in 2021 for reasons no one knows. lots of speculation but they never confirmed or denied anything. he still has loads of pictures of them on his insta but she deleted hers, probs wasn't a mutual breakup in that case. she's still good friends with lando, charles, and max's sister!
-> user he probably cheated or something
-> user they both seem happy so we shouldn't make assumptions :)
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y/nmaxupdates still no new content of our favs together so we are doing a little throwback thursday to one of y/n's posts from 2015 (she has removed the post).
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yourusername posted a story!
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yourusername vegas baby! vv thankful lando is okay. congrats on the podium charlie!
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charles_leclerc You say congrats but you wear a McLaren hat
-> yourusername only because lando invited me, not you!
user max being cropped out has me CACKLING
user we were so so close to some y/nmax snippet by her posting him but she fucking cropped him out
landonorris i'm so mad i crashed, my helmet was so sick for this race. do you think i can wear it to the clubs tonight?
-> yourusername lando istg if you wear your damn helmet anywhere tonight. you are supposed to be staying at the hotel with me anyways?
-> landonorris i don't see a doctor that will stop me from leaving. but my helmet looked sick right?
-> yourusername eh
landonorris we literally spent like 3 days together before the race and you still chose that ugly picture
danielricciardo VEGAS BABYYY. tonight we party.
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yourusername 'VEGAS BABYYY. tonight we party.' ~daniel ricciardo (and don't worry, i didn't let lando leave the hotel looking like that)
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it had been a wonderful night so far. lando couldn't drink due to the drugs the doctors gave him so you didn't drink either out of solidarity. lando had gone off to do lando things, probably finding a way to the dj booth or socializing with whoever he can. you were just sat at this couch in the vip area. you were talking to charles for a while before he went off to do celebratory shots. you were so tired from the timezone difference, vegas compared to the netherlands was messing with your system. you had your head leaned back against the couch, your eyes were just looking at some of the drivers having a lot of fun and celebrating in one of the best party cities in the world.
you felt someone sit down next to you on the couch. you didn't know who it was at first but you quickly smelt the cologne and knew. max. you two hadn't really spoken since 2021, when you ended it. it wasn't the prettiest of breakups but we were both stupid kids and in love back then. you both should've known it wouldn't work out. you tried, though. you tried with every single thing you had in you but at the end of the day, fate would always be stronger.
"hey, y/n. haven't seen you in awhile," max finally said, breaking the silence. he sort of had seen you though, on instagram. had he missed you? every fucking day. you broke up with him though, and you seemed happier. if you were happy, he would accept that.
"sure," was all you said. that was your telltale sign that you did not want to talk. but let's be honest, max verstappen not having a conversation when he wants to sounded impossible. he wanted to fix things, he wanted to fix it all. why wouldn't you let him? "any chance we can talk?" he asked you. he wouldn't really take no for an answer. he would just talk to you while you listened, but even that would be stretching it.
you stood up from the couch, careful to not look at him. if you looked at him, you would be a goner and would do just about anything he asked you to. you were a strong person except when it came to max. "see you around," you muttered to him before leaving the vip area. you would infact not be seeing him around, not if you can avoid it. maybe not drinking was a bad idea. you had spotted lando who was busy chatting away to someone. "fuck," you whispered under your breath, realizing that the person who you had to make sure got home safely was still having a good night. you wouldn't want to cut his night short, especially when his night started bad with the race.
you felt some hands wrap around your waist and before you could protest, these hands were pushing you out this door to the club's back alley. you knew those hands though. you knew them all too well. "max, what the hell?!" you shouted at him as you felt the cool night air hit your face. it felt better than how being inside that club felt.
he knew this was probably too far. but when has 'too far' ever stopped him. he was so done with this all. 2 years of not having more than 10 words shared between you two. you two used to talk every single day, where did it all go wrong? he knew this one was his fault. he was the one who had lost you, all for racing. he gave up you for racing. he was a royal idiot for that. "i am so done with you not even talking to me!" he shouted to you. he was thanking god that you two were in an alley and not somewhere public for this.
"i don't want to talk to you," you said to him. not many people held their ground against max, but you always did. you never wanted to talk to him again, not since your breakup. you were happy and had a great life, you didn't need the mess that was max verstappen. "you never do!" he said back. that was true and you both knew it.
"you're right! i never do! because you fucked up," you shouted to him, putting your finger straight to his chest. the breakup was infact not mutual like the media made it seem. you two broke up because you were trying to support him in racing while still building a life in tennis for yourself. you could see the stress eating away at max that year and he still wouldn't let you help. even if it was help from afar. you tried to be there. he didn't even try to be there for you and your goals either.
"i know i did. believe me, i know i fucked it up," he said to you. there had been quite a few sleepless nights where his brain just wouldn't turn off. he had only been thinking about you. tonight was just his breaking point. he was done acting like he hadn't been thinking about you.
there was a moment of silence as we just looked at eachother. we had grown up a lot since we last got close like this. "so then why? just why?" you pleaded to him to just give him a real answer. 2021 had been a hard year for him and you knew that. but you were his girlfriend. you were meant to be there and help him but he wouldn't let you. he pushed you away at any chance he got. then you were alone. it was an endless cycle of you trying to help max with his stress, him pushing you away, and then you also getting lost to your own stress.
he put his hands on either side of your face. he knew he couldn't give you the answer he had given you when you asked this question 2 years ago. he couldn't say "just a tough year" because although that was a part of it, it wasn't the entire truth. and you deserved the truth. "i pushed you away before you could push me away," he said to you as he looked into your eyes. he felt like an idiot for saying that but it was the whole truth.
you gave him a slightly confused look. that had been a different answer than what you got 2 years ago. how could he even think you would push him away? you loved him so much and you had for years. you would have clung to him, even in death. "if i wouldn't have won in 2021, there was that thought that you would be gone," he admitted.
"i wouldn't have left. i wouldn't have ever done that," you quickly said. you had to say that really quickly before he spoke again. clearly your words took him aback a little. he really felt stupid for ever thinking that you would leave, let alone leave simply because he won a championship. mentally, you said 'fuck it', and just kissed him. you pulled away for a second to whisper, "je bent een idioot, max verstappen (you are an idiot, max verstappen)". then you kissed him again.
he smiled in the kiss, his hands in your hair and yours in his. your words were true, he was an idiot. he would probably have to kiss you a million times to make up for him pushing you away. and that was a price he was willing to pay. he felt you pull away and as desperately as he wanted to pull you back into him, he knew you had some more words to say.
you pulled away. "but you left. you left when it got hard and i will never put myself in that position ever again," you said to him. your lips stung with how much desire you had for max. but you had to make smart decisions, you could not get hurt again. and deep down, you knew he would leave if it got hard again. him leaving again would hurt too much. you had a good life now, he had a good life now.
he felt his heart shatter at your words. but he knew you were right that he had left when it got hard. he had taken the coward's way out. he wanted you to be happy and you seemed so happy with your life now. he couldn't take that from you. he nodded his pain away and spoke softly to you, "i hope you have nothing but happiness in life". then he walked away. he walked away but this time for your sake. he knew you wouldn't walk away from him so he walked away from you. he really did hope you had nothing but happiness in life. he could hear all about your happiness from the bits that victoria shared with him.
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liked by y/nlover, heartsfory/n, mvfan, and 19,254 others
y/nmaxupdates NEW CONTENT!! I REPEAT NEW CONTENT OF MAX AND Y/N!! that kiss?? oh we are SO back.
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kasagia · 3 months ago
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Dancing with the devil VI
Pairing: Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!royal! reader Summary: Paul Atreides returns from the dead and you must once again consider whether it is really worth it to follow the path he offers you. You also analyze your feelings towards a certain Harkonnen. And you are afraid of what you might conclude from them. Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~Main Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ PART V ~•♤♤♤•~ PART VII ~•♤♤♤•~
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"So the Harkonnens attacked your family on Arrakis, and you... you're the only survivor? And you came here on a smuggler's ship with some Fremen who believe that you are their messiah who is to provide them with a better life, freedom and independence?" You make sure, summarising everything Paul has told you over the past few hours.
"In a nutshell." He confirms and nods at you. You watch him carefully. His complexion isn't as porcelain as it used to be. He's more tanned, has a few wrinkles, and his eyes… you can see from them that he's been through a lot.
"Amazing." You sigh, sending him an incredulous look.
"And you ended up engaged to Feyd?" He asks carefully, poking at the stones with a stick. He doesn't meet your gaze. You don't know why, for fear of reading something in your eyes, or of realizing that he's been gone so long, that things have changed so much when he was away.
"In a nutshell." You nod, swallowing as reality hits you with the words he says. You really were engaged to Feyd. And was about do become his wife. FOR REAL.
"Not so amazing... or is it?" He asks carefully and stares at you uncertainly.
"Of course not!" You snort, shaking your head at his absurd question. "I would never… not with HIM. Not after what they did to you and your family, Paul. You're… one of my oldest and dearest friends. You're all I have left." You say and garb his hand in a strong grip.
Paul lifts his eyes to meet with yours. You stare at each other for a moment, and he turns his attention to absentmindedly drawing circles on the back of your hand. He lowers his head and shifts his thoughtful gaze to the ring on your finger.
"Well... I remember times when you wished to be his wife."
"It was... a long time ago. Very long." You say, swallowing hard and unconsciously digging your nails into his palm. Paul doesn't make a sound, he just gently repositions your hand so you don't dig your nails into his anymore.
"You never told me what happened. I mean... I suspect a few things, especially since you and Irulan stopped being so friendly and start to passionately hate each other..."
"I... don't like to talk about it. I never told anyone about what happened then." You sigh, remembering what happened reluctantly. But if you were to confide in anyone, it could only be Paul.
So you start your story.
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Caladan had never felt so... cold before. Once it was one of your favourite places on earth. Now as you walked the halls of the palace, you feared for the future the Bene Gesserit witches, the Atreides, your parents, the Emperor, and the Harkonnens had planned for you Caladan isn't anymore such... stunning.
You didn't want to marry Paul. Not when your heart had long since been stolen and molded by someone else entirely.
"Practicing the art of stealth?" The raspy voice right next to your ear sent shivers down your spine. Your body involuntarily tenses as Feyd wraps his arms around you from behind and drags you into one of the palace's side passages. You wonder how the hell he even knows about it, since he's barely been here in the first place. "You were avoiding me, my deadly sweetness. Why?"
"I wasn't." You answer with a sort of confidence, but Feyd knows you perfectly well. He knows you're lying. You don't even know why you bothered to tell him a lie.
"Is it because of the Atreides? I can kill them, the Baron plans to break the peace treaty between us soon anyway."
"Feyd!" You hiss at him and punch him in the arm, giving him a reproachful look. You look around, making sure no one has heard you or will, and continue without looking at him, because you feel like the moment your eyes meet his you'll break down in his arms. And then Feyd would kill hundreds, if not thousands. "No. It's not them. Partially. And I don't want to get you in more trouble than you already are. It took your uncle a long time to get over you killing one of the nobles who… wanted too much from me. And I know, I know. He deserved it, I'm not questioning that, just the way you handled it, but we've talked about this before. Back to the main topic. Yes, I've been avoiding you because I… I… I just don't want to make it harder if they decide to… marry me off to Paul."
The silience that comes after your confession is killing you. You imagined in your head a variety of scenarios. In the worst of them, you are losing him completely.
You wonder if it wouldn't be better for all of you. After all, you and he had always been from different worlds, connected only by one small event in your past that made you care about each other. Eventually, you had to grow up and face reality. You didn't belong together. You never did.
And yet, despite the odds, despite all reason… you had developed true feelings for the young Harkonnen. Your mother would kill you if she knew how vulnerable you had allowed yourself to be towards a man. Not to mention that that man was Na-Barony, heir to Giedi Prime.
You are torn from your dark thoughts by his rough hand, which gently cups your cheek. You hold your breath as he leans towards you, his nose brushing against yours, his forehead resting against yours as he inhales the same air as you. Your heart beats like crazy as you think that he might kiss you, but to your great disappointment, he doesn't. He looks into your eyes, as if he wants to convince himself that you mean anything but leaving him.
"The only prophecy that I accept is that you are supposed to be mine." A soft growl leaves his chapped lips.
Out of the corner of your eye, you see his other hand shaking uncontrollably as the thought of never again being as close to you as he wanted it to be crosses his mind. He couldn't let you go. He wouldn't let you go.
If necessary, Feyd would burn Caladan to ashes, slaughter House Atreides and Corrino, and his own, if it meant he finally got what he truly desired. Someone's willing company, closeness, affection. He was too addicted to your softness to let you go completely. He was too drunk on the sweetness of your scent and innocence to let anyone desecrate it. He was too addicted to you to let anyone rip you from his arms.
"So what are you gonna do? You can't just claim me." You say, swallowing hard. The tension between you grows, the heat from his chest somehow seeping through his black armor, his musky scent mixed with a hint of smoke and metal overwhelming you.
"Can't I?"
Your heart beats faster at his question. The fact that he was practically asking for your permission made your head spin. How easy it would be for him to just give himself over to you. How easy it would be to just let him snatch you away and claim you as his in front of the world. But you knew the consequences. You knew how much he would pay for this. And the last thing you wanted was to cause him more pain and suffering than he had already experienced.
"You know it is not that easy."
"It is that easy. All you had to do is say yes."
"They won't let us do that." You shake your head as if that would dissuade him from that stupid idea. Although… you can't say you're not tempted to just run away with him, far away from here...
"I'm not asking their permission, I'm asking yours. Respect that. I could as well take you here and now. Take you to a ship to Arrakis and make sure we don't return to court without my heir in your womb."
"Thank you for your great grace and not treating me like one of your whores." You mock him and take a step to move away from him, but Feyd grabs you tightly by the arms and presses you against the wall with his body, preventing you from any form of escape.
"Don't try to argue with me. We both know you're more than that. As well as the fact that my idea captivates you as much as it captivates me."
This effectively silences you. It was true. You wanted this. Some twisted part of you did. But you knew perfectly well that you couldn't just refuse to marry Paul and decide otherwise. No matter how much you loved your prince from Lankiveil and wanted to be with him.
"Even if... even if I want it… it doesn't matter. They'll probably marry you off to Irulan. You'll be emperor and soon you'll forget about me. Those are the facts. We should stay away from each other."
You don't give him time to respond. You shrug his hands off you and run away from him. Tears gather in your eyes, but you try with all your might to keep them at bay. You run until you find yourself in the palace gardens.
Dark, black storm clouds stretch over Caladan, a cold wind blowing against your trembling figure. You kneel on the wet grass, and, not caring about the dirt on your dress, you put your hand to your mouth and let out a silent scream. The water soaks your hair and soaks into your clothes, but you don't move an inch. All you can do is cry, fooling yourself that the water running down your cheeks is rain as you bite your fist to keep from making any sound.
Paul is the one who finds you. And bless his sweet soul, he doesn't ask you any questions. He simply scoops you up in his arms and leads you back to the palace, obediently ignoring your quiet snorting. He knows exactly which corridors to lead you through so you don't have to run into any of the servants, and he returns you to the safety of your chambers with the promise that he'll be back to you soon.
In your hopelessness, you can't move, can't force a single coherent thought from your mind that doesn't involve Feyd. And with every tear that's shed, every tremble in your chest and sniffle, you realize that you don't care about anything but him. So you stand up and practically run to the secret passage in your room that connected to his guest chambers.
You wonder what you're going to tell him, how you're going to convey that you've changed your mind, that he can really do whatever he wants with you, just so long as you're his, just so long as you don't have to be apart any longer.
You couldn't; you didn't want to live like that. Not without him. Never without him. And you were terrified at first that he had such a huge influence on you, that you couldn't see your future without him, and that he was able to bring you to a state of mind where you didn't care about anything but him. But if you had to burn in his embrace to finally feel content and happy, then so be it.
But your determination falls apart when you reach his chambers. Everything falls apart.
"You never loved her, did you?" Irulan’s question rings in your ears. You hold your breath in shock, staring through a vent in the wall as she idly plays with the material of his shoulder armor.
"Y/N was… a lovely distraction."You feel his words tearing at your heart. Part of you doesn't believe what he's saying, doesn't want to believe what he's saying. But the other…
"It's quite pathetic. How fate has turned. You know, I used to think you were… a psychopath. Reckless. Dumb. But I can say that those traits fit her a little better now than they do you."
"I have to admit that I had a lot of fun breaking her and shaping her for my pleasure." You freeze in place. Completely.
He couldn't have meant it… but what if he did? What if he was really just playing with you this whole time? What if he really saw you as entertainment, someone to keep him company until he became emperor and could enjoy all the perks that entails?
"Will you have this much fun with me too?" Irulan whispers seductively against his lips, her hand falling to the back of his neck as she pulls him closer to her.
"Even more, my princess." Feyd responds with a growl, and with that, he kisses her like he kissed you not a few hours ago.
You take a few steps back in shock until you fall through the wall behind you. You put your hand to your mouth for the umpteenth time that day, stifling a cry of despair, and close your eyes, completely blocking yourself from what is happening in the room in front of you. You take a few calming breaths and retreat back to your chambers. You lock the passage carefully, making sure several times that no one will be able to get through it and sit down on your bed.
You reach over to your nightstand and pull out a sheet of paper, an inkwell, and a pen. You write, ignoring the ink staining your fingers, not noticing when Paul arrives with tea and biscuits for you, but you gorge yourself on the food like a week-starved man when the last word finally moves from your head to the page. You let him read what you’ve written, staring at him expectantly.
"Lady Whistledown?" He just asks, raising an eyebrow at you as he reaches the signature at the bottom of the page. You nod, placing your cup of tea on the bed.
Two important words from today—the day a completely new version of you was born. Whistle—from the whistle of the wind heard in the mysterious passage, which you still had in your ears when you saw Irulan and Feyd. And down. Complete collapse, the bottom you reached today and from which you promised to bounce back. If they... if he thought you were a pathetic little doll... what worse could happen to you? You couldn't make a bigger fool of yourself than you already had, wasting so much time on him.
"I want to make a difference. Something new. Something no one expects."
"Certainly no one would expect this… and especially not from Irulan. Who is this mysterious lover?" Paul asks curiously, to which you only smile mysteriously.
You take the notes you wrote in the heat of the moment from him and put on your coat to… seek advice on distributing them around the palace before dawn.
"Nobody important." You state, gathering all the confidence you could muster. You lean in and kiss him with the exact same intensity and desire Feyd had kissed Irulan with moments ago.
And though the guilt grows inside you, forming a lump in your throat, you don't break the kiss. You had to adapt to the new circumstances.
Even if the memory of Feyd's lips will always stick in the back of your mind.
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"You were together then?!" Paul asks in shock, and you just nod, playing with a stick in the dying fire. "And you told him you didn't want him, and then he and Irulan…"
"You sound like you're about to start defending him."
"No. No. I… I want to understand. If you loved him… why did you run away from him and... start this Lady Whistledown thing?"
"I… I don't know why I ran. I just did. It's not like your parents and mine, the Emperor and the Baron, would let us change anything about how they arranged our futures." Paul nods. He places his hand on yours, making you look up at him.
"You know… he always seemed more human when he was around you." You barely hold back the tears, but you manage it. You nod in thanks and pull him into a hug. He tenses, but after a moment he manages to relax in your arms and hugs you back.
"Maybe it's better that we didn't get married. I guess we're better friends anyway."
"Maybe." He agrees, tightening his grip around you. You sit there for a moment, holding each other, when suddenly the stone doors of the bunker slide open.
You pull away from Paul as if burned, glancing back the way you came. You shove the torch and weapon into his hands and push him deeper into the cave.
"You need to get out of it. Use the emergency exit. We'll contact each other somehow when I get back to the palace. For now, wait in your hideout. I... I promise you they'll pay for what they did to you."
Paul looks at you with gratitude in his eyes and disappears before you can say anything. You sigh and run your hand through your hair nervously, grabbing the small dagger you carried with you everywhere. You hide in the shadows, listening carefully for the intruder's footsteps.
When you see movement in the darkness, you attack. You push the intruder against the wall and put your dagger to his neck. You freeze as your gaze meet a Feyd's blue eyes.
"What are you doing here?" You hiss at him angrily and step away from him, making sure that no part of your body is touching his.
He presses some buttom on his armour, causing a small ball of light to fly out to illuminate the room. He looks around, not giving you an answer yet, as he carefully and suspiciously examines the area around him.
"I should ask you this question." He mumbles and finally turns his accusing gaze to you. You sigh and roll your eyes at him.
"Irulan?" You ask, knowing full well that only she could tell him the location of your secret hideout. "Of course. It is alwasy about her, isn't it?" You mutter to yourself and walk over to the extinguished campfire, ignoring the Harkonnen following you.
"We should come back before they notice that we disappaired." He suggests, but you completely ignore him in favour of building a fire.
He doesn't like it. That's why he suddenly rips the kindling out of your hands and kneels in front of you, putting him at your height. You pull away from him, feeling awkward having his face so close to yours.
"What for? My reputation is already ruined."
"Just because someone wrote..."
"Lady Whistledown is not someone!" You shout, turning your furious gaze back at him. The small glow of the light ball highlights the sharp lines of his jaw even more. You curse him for how disgustingly distracting he is and take a deep breath before continuing. "We both know how... society react to her paper. They will believe everything she wrote."
"Or he." He corrects you thoughtfully, to which you just snort, even more furious.
"Please. It can't be man."
There's a deep silence between you, broken only by your breathing. You try your best to keep a poker face and not give him away in any way how close you are to Lady Whistledown's true identity. But, luckily for you, he seems to be interested in something completely different.
"Why did you run away?" The question is as uncomfortable for you as if he were pestering you about Whistledown.
You swallow and look away from him, mentally reminding yourself like a mantra that it was he—his kin—who killed the Atreides. And he almost killed Paul. Paul, who, despite everything, had been a great support to you when Feyd was gone.
"Maybe that's my thing?" You say, trying with all your might to maintain your hostile attitude.
He didn't deserve anything more; hell, he didn't deserve anything you gave him. You should be thinking about how best to get rid of him, how to kill him, and how to get out of this unwanted marriage to a monster who was once the most precious person on earth to you. But all you can do is be furious at him for not being able to just love him—exactly the way you want to.
"What happened to you?" He asks, furrowing his hairless brows, accusing you of suddenly returning your hostility towards him with redoubled force.
"You! It's always you, damn it!" You scream at him angrily and punch his chest. Feyd stares at you in shock as your dam breaks and you unleash all your pent-up emotions from years past on him. "For 5 fucking years I've pined for you while you fucked your three pets! And probably a ton of other women! You're a disgusting monster who's only good at killing and destroying other people's lives! I hate the influence you have over me and my life! I hate that after everything you've done to me, Paul, and hundreds of others, you have the nerve to stand in front of me and beg for my love, for any feeling other than the disgust I should have for you and your house! I hate you! I hate you with every fiber of my being as much as I love you and it's killing me! So stop it! Stop your sick games and tell me that all of this, all of we went throught is just one of your sick plans to ruin my life! Say fucking something!!"
You are perfectly aware that you are behaving hysterically, that with every cry and hitting at him you are only sinking deeper in your pitifulness and coming off as pathetic, but you can't take it anymore. You can't stand that you love him and hate him at the same time, that you want to burn him to ashes and at the same time immerse yourself in the feeling of his strong arms around you. You are simply tired of fighting with the whole world and with yourself at the same time.
And Feyd, surprisingly, holds you through it all as you fall apart against his chest.
He gently tangles his hand in your hair and pulls you close. You rub your nose against his neck, inhaling his scent and crying quietly as he whispers soft, sweet nothings to you.
Your heart swells with love as you hate him even more for being so sweet and protective towards you.
But you don't want softness. No. Softness won't throw out all the thoughts you have, it won't make you finally feel the blog's emptiness.
So you stand on your tiptoes, digging your nails into his bald head as you pull him in for a kiss.
Feyd groans in shock at your actions. At first, he responds to your kiss instinctively, digging his fingers into your waist and pulling you close to him. Your tongues fight for dominance, and you feel your lungs burn from lack of breath. But you need more. So much more.
Your fingers themselves find their way to the buckles of his armour.
You undress him with a strange skill, and he's too focused on the feeling of your eager mouth on him to realise what you're doing. But when the pads of your soft, delicate fingers touch his skin, he wakes from the frenzy you've put him in.
He pushes you away from him. He breathes deeply, heavily, standing with his chest exposed to your hungry eyes.
"Y/N... wait..." He blurted out, not believing that the words were really leaving his mouth as much as you were. He hadn't imagined that he would be… reluctant and resistant when you initiated anything between you, but if anything, he didn't want to use you in such a state…
"I don't want to." You growl at him furious and move closer to him. Feyd groans when your mouth falls on him again and you loosen the ties of your dress.
You guide his much larger hand to your breast and knead it, making him harden in his pants at the mere touch of you. And fuck he wants more. He wants more so desperately. But he shouldn't. He shouldn't be using you like this.
“Fuck the hate for you out of me.” You demand, not beg or ask, against his mouth and slide your hands along his chest and abdomen to the button of his pants, which do nothing to hide the bulge that grows with every touch and gasp you make. "Make me forget about everything."
And Feyd is just a man, after all. A man who has given in to his desires for years and has never fought them. So after making sure that you want it too, he grabs you hard by the hips and lifts you, forcing your legs to wrap around his hips.
Feyd groans, laying you down by the fire, on stones that are still a little warm from the fire that died down. He tears the remnants of your dress from you, running his tongue along the column of your neck and to your bare breasts.
He sucks on one of your nipples, nibbling on it every now and then out of pure desire to see you howl and scream under his touch or to feel your fingers dig a little harder into his back. He needed to feel you close. He needed to know you weren't going anywhere. He could give you a reason to stay. Like he should have all those years ago.
"Feyd…" You moan softly as his fingers travel to your other breast and play with your nipple. Feyd hardens at the thought that one day, maybe, his children will be the ones to receive your beautiful breasts. And fuck, he's going to make sure of that.
He moves his mouth lower, tracing colors, a red-purple trail of hickeys across your breasts, the valley between them, your stomach, your hips, your thighs, to the place that interests him the most. He growls, nuzzling your wet core and inhaling your scent. He licks once, kittenishly, gently, just enough to get you impatient and savor you before he lunges to devour everything your sweet pussy has to offer.
Your moans and chants of pleasure make Feyd work you even harder, wanting to bring you to a sweet, blissful climax at least twice before he obediently fucks anything other than him out of you.
Feyd exactly feels the moment you're about to come. You dig your heels deeper into his back, your thighs gripping his head as if in some kind of trap, you shake under the thrill he's giving you. He looks at you and can't help but smirk possessively as he watches you, eyes closed, fall apart under his tongue, crying out of pure pleasure and relief.
He wastes no time. Feyd climbs over you, encouraged by your hands as you pull him down on top of you. He rests his forehead against yours and kisses you lazily before, with your help, he gently enters you. He stops when he sees you close your eyes and clench your teeth to keep from hissing in pain. He holds you protectively in his arms and slows your hasty movements. Ironically, he's the one who wants to slow down. He takes no pleasure in your pain and doesn't want to see you suffer. He wants to see the same look of blissful pleasure on your face from moments ago. So, to your protests, he slows down and presses his lips to your neck, sucking little raspberries as his fingers return to your swollen cunt, playing with it as he slowly conquers the deepest parts of you.
And it feels so fucking right and good. For both of you. You hold him tight, your nails digging into his abalaster skin as you draw his black blood, as he pushes himself inside you up to his balls.
You bite your lip, and he growls when he sees you trying to make the sound he has rightly earned sound. He kisses you with such fervour that you barely notice he has begun to thrust into you. His pace gradually increases until it is so fast that you don't register when he leaves you empty and when he completely fills every space in you. All you know is that you are one in this moment. You and him. And it feels so damn good. His lips mark every inch of your skin he can get to, just as your nails leave scratches on his back. You mark each other completely, as if either of you will forget what is happening between you now.
The moment you feel like you're going to fall apart you try to hold back, to come with him, but Feyd won't let you. He thrusts into you like it's the last thing he'll ever do, forcing you over the edge.
The force of his thrusts increases, stimulating your orgasm as he drinks in the sight of you beneath him, overwhelmed with pleasure. Your eyes squeeze shut, the scream of his name, and the way you dig your wonderful nails deep into the skin of his neck make him come. Your wet walls clench around his aching length as he kisses you one last time with everything he has, wanting to make sure your swollen lips, the hickeys on your body, and the pleasant ache between your legs remind you of how perfectly you both fit together. Hoping you won't run away from him the moment you get the chance.
He clings to you like a frightened little boy, afraid that when the fog of lust lifts you will come to your senses and pull away, push him away, to declare once again your great hatred for him.
But you don't. True, you gently push him off of you and snuggle into his side, completely exhausted, both emotionally and mentally, but you don't walk away completely; you don't throw insults.
Feyd believes that it's only and exclusively because you're too tired to do so.
Without a word, he pulls you closer to him and wraps his arms tightly around you, making sure to cover you with his black paladin first. You fall asleep quite quickly in his arms, allowing him to relax a little too. Feyd places his lips on the top of your head and presses a long kiss there.
"I've never played with you, little swan. It's always been… real. The realest thing I've ever experienced." He mumbles, his heart pounding faster than ever before with his confession. Even though you’re too deeply asleep to hear him, Feyd still finds it nerve-racking to admit it out loud.
For now, he falls asleep with you in his arms, enjoying the small truce between you. He just wonders how long it will last before you decide you hate him too much to even consider touching him.
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Taglist for Feyd: @avidreader73 @aleemendoza2425-blog @peggyao3
Taglist for DWTD: @iloved1lfs0 @heartarianagran @hueanhdang @barnes70stark @forgedfromthestars
@toertche
@emzzlyy
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wangxianficrecs · 15 days ago
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Rewind 2024 - Part II
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WangxianFicRecs - Rewind 2024
Part two of our favourite stories published in 2024. If you also want to give a shout-out to a story, submit an ask and we will share it in an upcoming post featuring Follower Recs and Proud Author Spotlights.
~*~
Now it's just too late to turn around
by kokozy
G, 1k, Wangxian | Kay's Rec
Summary: Cloud Recesses had never truly felt like home to him; Lan Yuan's home was wherever Hanguang-Jun was and sadly, Cloud Recesses was not Hanguang-Jun's home either.
~*~
💙 and taste the stars
by lowlightt (@lowlightt)
T, 1k, Wangxian | Kay's Rec
Summary: “When a living person enters this place, there’s no coming back—for the body or the soul."
~*~
🔒 Story of a Dream
by Bamboo_Gden
G, 1k, Wei Wuxian & Jiang Yanli | Kay's Rec
Summary: She tried to shake away any sad thought, this was supposed to be a merry reunion, after all. A-Xian had always been someone very especial to her. A solace of gentleness and kindness within a house so filled of grudges and hatred. She knew it was the same to him. Blood didn’t tie them, but they were undoubtedly family. Jiang Yanli pays a visit to her A-Xian to catch up with him.
~*~
A Promise in Ink
by Witch_Nova221 (@witchnova221)
G, 1k, Wangxian | Kay's Rec
Summary: Lan Zhan is given a pen pal in school. For ten years, they write to one another, sharing their lives but never seeing each others' faces until, one day, Wei Ying comes home.
~*~
🔒 jujube
by colbygege
T, 4k, Wangxian | Kay's Rec
Summary: Wei Ying thinks back on the last month, collecting all the clues that, really, should have tipped him off far sooner than he allowed them to that he was married to Lan Zhan. He has no one to blame but himself, but also? Maybe he's not so mad.
~*~
🔒As good as
by apathyinreverie (@apathyinreverie)#
T, 6k, Wangxian | Kay's Rec
Summary: Cangse Sanren would be disappointed. (Where LQR, right smack in the middle of the war, realizes that WWX doesn’t have a Core. He promptly enlists his own pining nephew in ensuring that, after winning the war for them, WWX is going to end up with GL instead of YJ. He owes that much to Cangse Sanren.)
~*~
Only if for a night
by sacrificial_fawn
M, 7k, Wangxian | Kay's Rec
Summary: During the Sunshot Campaign, Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian become stranded in the middle of a storm, the situation is far from ideal, especially to go into labor. Even more if Wei Wuxian didn't even know he was pregnant.
~*~
Winter sun (back in my arms)
by barisan (@barisan-no)
T, 19k, Wangxian | Kay's Rec
Summary: Still, he cannot keep himself from seeing it. The way the corners of his mouth curl when he smiles, the way his eyes crinkle. The way he lets out a little snort before he laughs. The way he rubs the bridge of his nose when focused. Now that he has let himself see it, he cannot keep his mind from noticing each and every detail, cataloging what is his, what isn’t, and what is fully, simply, A-Yuan. His A-Yuan. The little mole by his lip, the shape of his eyes, his nose. A-Yuan, A-Yuan, A-Yuan. The Bio Dad WWX AU I’ve been screaming about for months.
~*~
Ebb and Flow
by trulywicked (@trulywicked)
M, 10k, Wangxian | Kay's Rec
Summary: Wei Wuxian has not been having an easy time of it since his mate left to reclaim his home and now he's beginning to wonder if the promise to return had all the substance of seafoam.
~*~
divine, divine
by sunflowersfield
T, 3k, Wangxian | Kay's Rec
Summary: “Wei Ying. May I ask…what are you doing?” Wei Ying doesn’t glance up from the assembly manual he is reading. “I have to at least scan the instructions before I build your end tables, Lan Zhan!” “But…why are you building my end tables?” Now, Wei Ying does look up from where he is crouched on the floor. “Because you paid for assembly, of course!” he responds. Lan Zhan shakes his head. “I don’t believe I did.” Or: Lan Zhan accidentally adds assembly service to his furniture order and meets Wei Ying in the process.
~*~
till death
by darjeelinh (@darjeelinh)
M, 7k, Wangxian | Kay's Rec
Summary: Near death after destroying the Stygian Tiger Seal, Wei Wuxian has one last wish. He wishes to see Lan Zhan one last time. The universe grants him this final act of kindness. In the dead of night, Lan Wangji wakes up with a surprise visitor.
~*~
‘cause it’s worth the sacrifice to finally be strong
by MichelleFeather
G, 4k, Wangxian | Kay's Rec
Summary: "Why does no one believe you both are in a relationship with each other?" he asked over dinner, Lan Huan not in attendance. Lan Zhan and Wei Ying shared a glance filled with years of that exact same question - along with the rage, anger, sadness, and acceptance that came with such a thought. Wei Ying swirled his drink around with his straw, the ice softly clinking against the clear glass. "They don't believe us. That's the only conclusion we've ever been able to come to Uncle." he responded, hesitantly looking up at the elder. "Uncle, you and the Wen siblings are the only people who believe Wei Ying and I are together, that we are married. Brother has always said we were best friends, soulmates, then immediately offered to arrange dates for me." ------------------------------------------------ Reverse trope: "instead of fake dating, everyone is convinced that you aren't actually dating"
~*~
duo xie
by Inventorofchairs
E, 1k, Wangxian | Kay's Rec
Summary: oops
~*~
New, Little Bit Better
by LydeNicoKITE
G, 3k, Wangxian | Kay's Rec
Summary: Wei Wuxian comes back from the dead after six years, and he's exactly like anyone remembers him, but also entirely different. He has a different face, the same smile, a less conspicuous laugh, the same worn t-shirts of obscure bands Lan Wangji doesn't try to listen to at full volume because he cares too much about his hearing. He is not the version of him Wangji obsessed over in the past six years of insomnia, the Yiling Patriarch with a mind poisoned by dark magic, but he's not the boy he fell in love with, either. Having him back would would be an impossible type of joy, endless and complete, if Wei Wuxian was not avoiding him.
~*~
(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for these hard-working authors if you like – or think others might like – these stories.)
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sjywrites · 3 months ago
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Hii can I request Sophia x reader academic rivals? 🥺 u can do whatever u want w the plot pretty much please and thank u so much <3 :)
༊*·˚ ACADEMIC RIVALS LOVERS?
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𝓢ophia 𝓛aforteza x 𝓖n!reader. (no pronouns used). 𝓖enre. fluff, angst if you squint 𝓢ypnosis. our two favourite academic rivals have a lil fight, but the situation turns bad, and people realize their feelings. 𝓦𝓒 . 824 𝓒𝓦 . mentions of being hospitalised (sophia), a little angsty!
𝓝ote! this is a little messy since I wrote it during one of my breaks, but please lmk if you want like a part two cuz I really liked this plot!
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This is purely fiction and is not meant to interpret how the idols act in real life!
,, not proofread + english is not my first language ! ೃ⁀➷
At this point it didn’t even matter if you were better than everyone, you just had to be better than her. It started off very simple, both of you wanted to be better than everyone, academically that is. Eagerly waiting to get tests back and see who got a higher score, a smug grin on one's face when they got a better result than the other. No harm in that right? Wrong, that’s what started all of this.
Sophia walked towards me with her head held high, her uniform as neat as ever and her hair styled in a way making her look almost angelic. Wait, what? “What were your results?” She said, slamming her paper on top of my desk, I shook out of my daydreaming to answer her. “96.” I said while looking down in my maths book, trying to solve an equation but still focusing on what she would respond. She looks away and a teasing smirk spreads on her lips, and moves the finger that covered her results, 97. “Guess I’m just better than you huh?” She said proudly, staring down at me “Just because you got one point more than me doesn’t mean you’re better than me.” I said, pouting a little at her accusation.
Lately I’ve been feeling kind of… weird? Even if Sophia gets a higher score than me, I can’t find it in me to give a fuck. “Well, you’ve been slacking off a lot lately, I’ve gotten higher scores than you on the last four tests. So, I think that makes it obvious who's smarter!” Sophia states like it was the most obvious answer to what I said. Staring at her for a moment, I reply. “I've been busy okay, not everyone has that much free time to spend on studying, and you're talented in general, no wonder you get high scores” She looks shocked at my statement, then she smirks a little, “Did you just admit that I'm smart?” She looked proud in some way or another, “Not what I meant Sophia, but whatever floats your boat.” I grab my things from the desk and walk outside the classroom to my locker, a little frustrated at the whole situation. I did miss her response,
“I study that much so you won't think I'm stupid.”
A week goes by, no Sophia in sight. She missed two assignments, she's usually here every day. Even if she's sick, which I don't get why she does, but still. Did something happen to her? Was it something I did?
“You've been zoning out for the past like, three periods, what is going on with you today?” Lara, my best friend asks. “Do you know where Sophia is?” I ask, not really thinking before I ask. “Why do you want to know, don't you guys like, hate each other?” She looks at me with a very questionable look, suspecting something I cannot grasp, “Yes? No? I don't know Lara, but do you know where she is?” I say, a little confused and concerned. She looks at me with sad eyes before replying, “Y/N, Sophia got really sick out of nowhere, I heard she's at the hospital.” My eyes blew wide at the shocking news, why didn't she tell me? No, why would she do that? We're not even friends.
Am I really doing this? I think to myself as I open the hospital doors and stumble up to the kind-looking man in the lobby. I strike up a casual conversation with him as he guides me to a room, I thank him quickly before he scurries away.
There in the little window on the door I see her, Sophia's sitting down on the bed. Her hair is a mess and her clothes look ridiculous, it looks like she hasn't slept for a few days too. I gently open the door and her gaze falls upon me, it's easier to see her face now. She looks tired, really tired. “Hey…” I say, she looks away from me and cuddles up in her sitting position. “What are you doing here?” she tries to sound annoyed, but it just comes out in a tired huff. “I heard what happened, I… was worried about you. I brought some notes from the classes you missed.” She looks shocked at my confession, she relaxes her posture and her gaze becomes soft. “Thank you… I really appreciate it.” She smiles a little as she grabs the papers I handed her, our hands touching softly.
I look at her, really look at her. For the first time actually having time to admire how pretty she looks, how perfect her flaws are. “I just came to give you that… so if you don't need anything else, I'll go.” I turn around to walk away, grabbing the door knob and turning it around, “Wait! Will you… please stay with me a little longer, I need it.
I need you.”
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this is so messy I'm sorrrrryyyy!! I wanted to post something today at least :((
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itstheghostofmypast · 10 months ago
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15.07
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Choi San x (f)Reader
Summary: At this point, he didn't know who she loved more, him or Byeol, either way, he was happy. What else could Choi San ask for other than his two favourite girls in the world getting along?
Genre: PURE FLUFF
Warnings: NONE
Word Count: 2.1K
Est. Read Time: 10 min
Networks: @cromernet @k-labels
A/N: No- see @edenesth 💗 did this to me. This timestamp is for my saviour, the one and only @edenesth 💗 , like we should totally blame San for posting such domestic core pics- no wonder we get all delulu- PS THIS COLLAB HAS ME DYING
@edenesth version: [12.58]PM
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"San?" she called out, walking down the hallway as she paused in front of the wall-length mirror, fixing her hair once more and checking out her outfit, simple, crisp and a dash of purple. Very different from her usual office attire, very colourful too- after all the first time he had seen her she was in a plain suit, a white dress shirt and slacks, running around collecting printouts for the upcoming spring magazine. That also being the first time he had realised how much he loved the word 'simple'. Okay, fine, perhaps she was dressed on the softer side, but was it so bad to play cute for once? Especially, if she was doing so to please her man. Call it her way of simping.
Truth be told, she wasn't even sure if he was going to show up, after their extensive tour, when he had mentioned the upcoming off days he was to get, she had suggested going to his home town to relax, leaving the city life for a while and although it pained her to know that she would be too busy with her own work at the office, also known as the company he too worked in, she wanted him to rest and relax away from the hustle bustle of his idol life, what she did not expect that after a week of his departure to Namhae, the very next weekend her fluff of a man would be ringing her doorbell in the late hours of the weekend.
"Byeol wanted to see you and so did I, I spent a week there and I'll spend a week here."
Was all he the dimpled man had made his way inside to the living room, opening the carrier to let Byeol out, the living room already a place of her liking. She had been here with San a couple of times; she had also been a very important part of their relationship. Especially on their third date where he had delicately brought up the topic, "Are you allergic to cats?"
"No, why?"
"Do you like cats?"
"Yeah, why?"
He never really answered her question that night, only smiled at her, leaning over the table to add more meat to her plate considering the late hours of the night, her hunger had distracted her from asking more questions, already too emotional at the thought of this angel of a man sacrificing his portion of protein for her - especially after grilling it so well. The only thing that did change was that the next morning she received around 400+ pictures of San's first love, Byeol.
The first time he had brought Byeol over, he was cautious and attentive, making sure both his girls were happy. He asked her cute questions all day- maybe she just found them cute because it was him, or perhaps it was because he was letting her in, into his domain, which is the little kitty roaming around the house.
"Can I put the litter here?"
"All your windows are locked right?"
"Do you mind if I keep the food bowl next to where we eat? She feels lonely otherwise."
"Can she sleep on your bed? I brought her cat mat just in case."
"Can we leave the bedroom door open a bit, so she can come and go without waking us up?"
He stopped when he realised, she wasn't even responding, panicking he looked up from the cat supplies. Maybe she felt like he was intruding or invading her privacy but was too afraid to tell him. Maybe bringing in Byeol was a big step he shouldn't have taken so quickly. What if she meant like she liked cats, at a normal level, like 'oh a cat.'  Not like cuddling them or baby-talking to them. Turning around his eyes scanned the room to spot her holding onto Byeol, carrying her like a baby and cooing at her. It was only then he realised how loud his cat was purring loud enough for it to echo in the silent room.
"Hmmm? You say something, Sannie?" she looked up from Byeol to him, eyes as curious as a cat's, hand resting on the cat's tummy, letting Byeol grab her hand with her soft paws. His heart felt as if it were about to burst out of his ribcage, running to her and landing on her palm, beating in it with an intensity that would borderline scare her. Licking his chapped lips the feline-eyed man shook his head, a genuine dimpled smile forming, one that would send thousands flipping with joy- or in her case have her gushing over it in solitude.
Thus, giving birth to a ritual, often he would spend his free days at his own home, sometimes calling her over, and gratefully his family welcomed her with open arms. On other occasions, he’d drop by to her apartment, bringing their 'daughter' with him.
She remembers the time Byeol had gotten sick. Unfortunately, San was busy that evening, and his parents were out of town so Byeol was to stay with her. Not an issue, at least it wasn't until the third night when San checked his phone after hours of practice late at night. He had decided to stay at the dorm, travelling would be more tiring she understood, but as the man checked his phone his heart almost stopped.
"Byeol is sick, she's vomiting. "
"I'm taking her to the vet."
"She's shivering."
"Okay, my car isn't working!"
'"I ran here, dw, made it in time, they're checking her."
"They say she has a fever, some bug?"
"They want to keep her overnight, idk I mean I can't just leave her here. She looked scared."
"I'm not leaving, but she's sedated. They say she'll be fine."
"San plz reply soon."
"San I'm scared."
Choi San had never run faster in his life he was sure of it, because the moment he burst into the 24/7 pet clinic his lungs were burning worse than a forest fire, his eyes red and blurry, the world around him extremely out of focus as he stumbled to the reception, about to take the patient's name but someone called him instead.
"San!"
His head snapped in her direction, running to her, enveloping her in a tight embrace, trying to calm her down as she began to shiver in his embrace, her words coming out with choked sobs. Hand pressed against her head, he rubbed her back up and down with the other one, looking through the glass window at his cat, sprawled on the table with an IV tube attached.
"It's gonna be okay, it'll be okay."
It took almost an hour to calm her down, he had tried to convince her to go home, she had work the next day but she refused, instead blaming herself for Byeol's health. Though the doctor had assured him it was not because of her incompetency, but the cat food, the cat food Sanhad insisted on changing. Once she found that out, Choi San had to get an earful the remainder of the night, “How can you- I told you not to do that!”
“Babe I- “Don’t babe me! She doesn’t even like salmon! She prefers tuna.”
After the wonderful argument, that through the eyes of an elderly couple waiting for their dog looked like a cute domestic quarrel, came to an end. San remembered sitting next to her sulking as she gave him the silent treatment, though a few moments later her head had landed against his shoulder with a thump, followed by her snores. That night Choi San had realised two things, firstly that he was in love with her and secondly, she probably loved Byeol more than she loved him.
Hence, today they were supposed to go to a cute cafe she had been eying for a month. They had planned on taking Byeol out but since the cat had decided to stay up all night, running around the apartment she was tired today. San had just mocked her, claiming that Byeol knew it was Valentine's Day so she wanted her parents to spend the day together. However, he later countered himself with a, "Though each day is like Valentine's Day with you, love."
Clearing her throat, she dusted off the invisible dust, adjusting her cardigan before making her way to the living room once more, calling out to her significant other, "San! I'm ready to let's go." though his lack of response was confusing her, so she called out again, "Sannie where are you-" her word stopped as soon as she turned the corner, into her living room, spotting a giant starfish sprawled out on the wooden floor. Next to him was Byeol, staring down at him, San's hand pressed against his cat's back in a soothing manner, but she knew what he was doing, making sure his cat didn't move because Byeol was not only pretty but smart too, she knew what her dad was doing.
Sighing she walked closer to him, standing next to Byeol who looked up at her, blinking slowly, before turning back to stare at San. She stared down at him, arms crossed before slowly poking his side with her foot, watching him pretend and stretch, groaning as he cracked an eye open, "Oh~ you're finally done?"  
"Mhmmm." Raising a questioning brow she nodded, "And?"
"Oh, I mean" Sitting up he stretched his legs, much similar to how Byeol would do so, "Byeol said her mommy was taking so long in the shower that we fell asleep, waiting for you…" his words trailed off when he turned to look at her, his breath hitching at the sight of the soft pastels, the pretty purple, purple really was her colour. Clearing his throat he quickly got up, standing to talk in front of her, merely a few inches away from her as he stretched his arms over his head before casually bringing them down, not so discreetly wrapping them around her and slamming her into him, smirking when she whined.
"The dress will wrinkle Sannie." she tried to push him away but he pulled her closer, leaning down to peck the tip of her nose, "You can't look like a pretty pixie and not expect me to hold onto you like Captain Hook kidnapped Tinkerbell."
"What an analogy."  she mumbled, letting him squeeze her into his warm chest, feeling the vibrations as he chuckled, "You look very pretty…I like your cardigan."
"Thanks, your mom gave it to me last birthday. " Her arms wrapped around his waist, letting him gently sway them from side to side.
“Who do you think chose it?” he smiled down at her, finally meeting her with a gentle kiss, one she savoured greatly, hands fisting his shirt as his palm pressed against her back before slowly trailing down, though their little moment came to halt sudden when a high-pitched squeak caught their ears. Pulling back, she looked down at Byeol, frowning before turning to look at San, “Why isn’t she wearing her leash?” “What do you mean?”
Tutting at her gorgeous idiot of a man, she pulled away completely before crouching to grab the cat and walking towards the door where they hung coats and her leash. “I said we’re going to the café.”
“I know,” he mumbled scratching his head, a bit confused as to what she meant, “I got a booking for it, no? Why are you – we can’t take her there and it's almost time for our reservation.”
“Aww~ don’t listen to daddy, Byeol” San watched her talk to his cat instead of him, watching her put on Byeol’s harness and leash, somewhat impressed because Byeol never let him do that this easily, though the next statement had him blushing mad. “He’s a bit slow, handsome, but slow, he forgot we’re going to a cat café, you’ll have fun there~ Won’t you baby~”
Letting out a hearty chuckle he closed his eyes and shook his head in disbelief, of course she’d come up with this idea on her own. She had mentioned earlier how leaving Byeol home wasn’t fun especially when the cat was their ‘child’ and leaving their child unattended was cruel. He watched the cat jump off the table and onto the floor, meowing up at his lover who sent Byeol a flying kiss, San didn’t know what heaven was, but if anyone were to ask him to describe what it looked like, the view was right in front of him.
“Any kisses for me?” He asked walking up to his two girls, who were almost out the door, pausing when she winked at him, “depends big boy. Might need to send our baby back home for a while if that’s what you want.” And that had the man shivering with excitement running after her as the two made it to the elevator, already planning on asking someone or one of the guys to watch his little baby for the night, so he could have a night with his kitten.
“Don’t worry, I think that can be arranged, kitten.”
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Taglist: @edenesth @mlysalt @spooo00oky @cereal-simp @yessa-vie
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missmarveledsblog · 4 months ago
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A kind of sex education part 2 (platonic cas x winchesters x reader)
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Summary : after the whole porn ordeal , castiel finds tumblr and the world of fanfiction has him asking more curious questions  which the residents of the bunker are not so happy to answer . 
warnings : mentions of smutty fics , cas being the curious baby in a trench coat we love .
After the whole angel porn ordeal , they were more careful with what cas was watching not wanting  history to repeat itself . Like monitoring a toddler on an iPad. Especially given that y/n wouldn't come out of her room for days not wanting to look any of them bar sam in the eyes .  Dean even limited his teasing when it came to the subject . Today he was luckily out while cas was on laptop , Sam and Y/N were looking over some incoming cases seeing which needed to be handled first .
" interesting this is very interesting " the angel spoke making them look over both slightly relieved not see or hear an explicit image on the laptop. 
" I've been on a interesting site that led me to many other over the last couple of days " he  spoke up .
" what was that buddy" she smiled over. Their joy short lived when he uttered the next few sentences out of his mouth .
" tumblr that led me to all these other sites , did you know there is fanfiction of us like the play we seen except it's classed as what they call smut " he looked up at the two .
" why didn't  I go on the supply run ,  why am I here when he finds this shit " she cursed up at the ceiling .
" could be nothing " sam offered a weak smile .
" did you know most popular is Dean x y/n fiction seems as though you are most shipped although there are some of Dean and sam with you too " he mused .
" but I could be wrong" sam winced taking the laptop off of cas completely .
" how do you find these things " he asked looking through the tabs .
" I'm very pop culture savvy now " cas said proudly . 
" what the hell man why are you reading all these " sam groaned wanting burning his eyes out seeing an explicitly  wrong image of Dean and himself (no to wincest) .  " you are actually popular with them Y/n " sam mused .
" that's after  that stupid ghost hunting  website and chuck " she grumbled  wondering where she was going to start her new life.
" hey there's even some with you and cas " he chuckled. 
" Alaska or maybe Australia would be better it further Away " she mused .
" wow these are extremely detailed " sam continued .
" would you call Dean daddy , the stories seem to think you would " cas asked .
" what the hell did I walk into " the man in question walked into the room .
" my resignation  " she mumbled hiding her head in her arms. 
" destiel  is another popular one " sam chuckled. 
" cas found smutty fanfictions " she looked up to see the clueless expression on Dean's face.
" they suggest that Y/n is a sub and you are a Dom " the angel stated.
" wanna see if they're right sweetheart " Dean winked .
" wanna kill me cause I can't be dealing with this" she countered wondering if she could also legally change her name.
" why are they so descriptive on the parts , have they seen them" cas sat looking between the three .
" the way Dean sleeps around they probably seen his " she reasoned.
" they also suggest you like..." .
" do not even finish that one" she growled .
"so many kinks cas did you google all these" sam asked eyes widening at the search history. 
" i was looking at chucks book and comments said to check out the tumblr versions " he said looking confused to what he did wrong. " they forgot to add that birthmark just below your tits " he added matter of factly .
" when did you see her ... what he got to see i didn't" dean turned to Y/n , who honestly rather be stuck with Crowley for eternity than this .
" he walked in while i was getting dressed and it not a birthmark it's a scar from a battle with an old favourite bra "she could feel her cheeks redder than they've been so far . "i'm going to my room to pack for my new life in australia" she stormed out her room .
" she's kidding right?" dean asked looking to the mean .
" you should dom her  and make her stay , they said she responds to good girl" cas explained .
" i wonder if she would let me come with her " sam mused walking out after her.  
another awkward dinner bobby was almost afraid to ask. Although dean was smiling more than the others.
" cas read fanfiction , pornographic fan fiction " dean explained .
" i've also read some theories too, like bobby is Y/N Dad and not her uncle" cas smiled making bobby choke on his water.
"  their theories cas they're not right ... right? " she laughed but stopped when she notice bobby expression or how he would barel look at her.
" i mean it's a possibility " he mused truthfully making her jaw drop
" great more daddy issue not like the place is drowning in them with these two " she pinched the bridge of her nose and point at sam and dean.
" so the theories of dean being her soulmate are true " cas asked.
" probably " dean shrugged winking at her .
" why did i ever come here, sam wanna move to australia with me " she ignored the other three men .
" look me and your mom had a brief thing , your dad well your dad agreed while he..." . 
" australia sound nice " sam agreed cutting bobby short .
" hey stop denying our love even nerds on internet think we'd be hot together"dean spoke up .
" cas from now on stop the curiosity or so help me i will make you eat the computer  " she  groaned learning too much information for the day .
"we need to do dna test " she turned to bobby .
" you can pick me up at 7 " she turned to dean before walking out leaving the men speechless . 
" i got punished" cas pouted .
" i got a kid  kinda " bobby gulped .
" i got a date " dean smirked .
" and i got a rock ... It's a thing on tiktok ... what cass isn't the only pop culture savvy one around here " sam shrugged .
part three
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authorscurse · 6 months ago
Note
hi!! I've seen your work on pjo and was wondering if I could request a Percy jackson x reader? Where the reader is Will Solace's twin, but unlike Will, who Apollo Described to have inherited all of his best qualities, the Reader, however, inherited the "worst"?
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[P.J. Masterlist] | [M. Masterlist]
Warning: usage of y/n, Apollo is a bad dad
Pairing: reader x Percy Jackson
W.C: 2k
Note: I'm planning on making my Percy Jackson tag list! Comment if you want to be part of it! Also if you want to be part of my overall taglist!
[Requests]
Synopsis: Apollo!Reader finds solace with friends after her father's hurtful favouritism.
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I stare blankly at the breathtaking scenery of the beach. The sky is painted a vivid blue with fluffy white clouds adding ethereal decorations. The sun shone brightly, radiating warmth and light to all it touched. But no matter how much scorching heat and comforting radiance the sun exuded, I felt only the bone-chilling temperature from the bitter winter.
I exhaled and watched the puff of smoke become visible in the frosty winter air. The sun gave no aid to remove the biting cold I felt, inside and out. I'm freezing, I'm numb, and no amount of heat could dispel the paralyzing chill that gripped my heart.
"It's freezing out here," I was startled to hear Percy's voice. I turned and saw him in a cozy sweater, his hands tucked into his pockets, shielding them from the bitter cold. "Go back to your cabin, Jackson," I looked back at the mesmerizing scenery before him. I didn't hear a sound from him, and I thought he had returned to his cabin, but I was extremely wrong when I felt him sit down beside me.
"You should be in your cabin getting some warmth, sunshine." There it was, that affectionate nickname he had given me ever since we first met. I wasn't claimed when we both met for the initial time, but he called me sunshine, and even after I was claimed, the endearing moniker still followed me around. "Are you alright? I heard about what happened," Percy says, concern evident in his voice. I heard him sigh when I ignored him and continued to watch the waves crash onto the shore.
The memory of what transpired this morning kept replaying in my mind, and no matter how much I tried to forget it, I couldn't. Because it's impossible to erase that your own father shattered your heart even before any man could.
Me and Will were twins, we looked alike but not the same in terms of interests and personality. He was calm, and I was like a ticking time bomb. He's seen as humble, while I'm perceived to be arrogant. His likes were different from mine, and the same with our dislikes. Twins but exactly opposite from each other. Other campers thought I was Ares's child until they found out I was Will's twin sister. I guess that's why my father favoured Will all the time.
"Why can't you be like your brother?" Apollo asks in a booming voice that makes me flinch. "Why are you such a disgrace!" It sounded like a question, but it isn't. He meant it to be a declaration. That I am a disgrace. Tears threatened to spill from my eyes, but I did not let them. The last thing I want to do is to cry in front of my father.
He continued to stare at me with so much loathing and contempt in his eyes. He didn't have to say it in words. I saw it, felt it. He despised me. Every single part of me, he hated it. At that moment, I realized that I would never be his perfect little Will. No matter how much I tried to make him proud, it would be useless because I would always be last to Will. I will always be his least favourite daughter.
"Will inherited all my best qualities, and you, inherited all the worst," He said with venom in his words. I looked down and closed my eyes when he turned into light and disappeared. Will entered the cabin seconds later and was shocked to see me alone with tears behind my eyes.
He opened his mouth to ask me what happened, but I darted out the door before he could even let out a single word.
I didn't even realize I was crying until Percy wrapped his arms around me and ran his fingers through my hair to calm me down. "It's going to be alright," He whispered gently in my ear. I cried my heart out into his chest. I allowed all the tears I've been hiding to flow down. I felt guilty for soaking Percy's sweater with my tears, but he did encourage me to continue until I no longer had any tears to give.
It lasted for almost 20 minutes. 20 minutes of my sobs and gasps for air, and Percy stayed the whole 20 minutes, whispering sweet encouragements and soothing words into my ear. As the last few tears I had finally dried, I gently removed myself from Percy's embrace.
He stared at me with his mesmerizing sea-coloured eyes that were filled with so much concern. I took a few deep breaths to calm me down, and when I finally did, I gave him a soft smile. He smiles back at me and places a tender kiss on my forehead.
I gaze off into the distance, admiring the captivating view of the ocean and the sky. Percy continued to draw delicate circles with his fingertips on my bare skin. I release a breath and allow my eyes to close and, for once, relax.
I rest my head on Percy's shoulder and continue to keep my eyes closed. Percy whispered sweet nothings in my ear. I block out every bad memory and thought that entered my mind and focused on Percy's soothing words.
"We should get out of here, you'll get sick my love," Percy whispered. He helped me stand up from the sand and held my hand as we both walked back to the Apollo cabin.
"Are you feeling better now? You can stay with me at my cabin, love. I don't mind," Said Percy. I gave him a soft smile and shook my head before placing a gentle kiss on his cheek. A soft pink tint on his cheeks was evident.
"I'll see you during dinner, Perc," I wave him goodbye and walked inside the cabin. I was immediately engulfed in a warm hug by 3 of my siblings, the 4 of us falling down on the floor.
"Off! Off! I wave the white flag!" I gasp, and all 3 of them got off and laid down on the floor beside me. "Oh, I think I just had a concussion," I say, holding my chest. "You're overreacting, Twinnie," Will said, and I gave him a playful smack to the arm.
"We heard what happened, sis," Kayla says, and I let out another sigh as I was reminded of the painful memory.
"We think you're the best, Y/n. You're the better twin," Austin joked. "I'm hurt, Austin," Will pretended to cry on my shoulder, which I shoved him away, laughing at his antics.
"We love you, Y/n," Austin, Kayla, and Will said in unison. I smiled and felt myself tear up from their heartfelt words. "Awwww, are you going to cry?" Will asked teasingly. "I never thought you were a crybaby, Y/n," Austin joked. Both of them earned a playful slap from me.
The rest of the day was filled with laughter and smiles. The awful memory from this morning had already slipped my mind. My mind now filled with more happy and better memories created with my siblings. I couldn't ask for more.
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rubyin-wonderland · 6 days ago
Text
Sanji's Girl
opla!Sanji x fem!reader (technically Zoro x reader too I guess?)
Summary: Zoro wishes that he had Sanji's girl
WC: 4.5k
Warnings/tags: focused on Zoro and reader but reader is Sanji's gf, flirting with others while in a relationship, not talking about feelings, fem!reader, secret crushes thought to be unrequited, love triangle/corner, emotional constipation, wrote this while yearning for someone taken, so make of that what you will, inspired by the song Jesse's girl
Note: running low on inspiration and this one's been finished and sitting in my drafts for a while, so tada
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It is well known that you and Sanji are a couple. The way he clings to you whenever you're in sight, the way he lights up as you enter the room, nearly everything he does just shows how deeply in love with you he is.
Zoro is well aware of this situation. After all, you are probably his closest friend on the boat, second only to your captain.
You were exactly what he needed in terms of companionship. You liked silence, but could keep up with banter if needed. You were a strong fighter and damn good at doing stitches. The only problem he had ever had with you was the way the chef spoke to you like he would die if he forgot to compliment you once every hour. That, and the fact that you reciprocated it.
He was not exactly surprised when you announced that you had accepted one of Sanji's many, many offers to be his girlfriend, but he was not too pleased with it either.
He had never shown any distaste about the situation towards you and he made no attempts to stop bashing Sanji when he came up in conversation between the two of you, but he hated everything about your relationship.
When you announced it that day, Sanji's arm smoothly wrapped around your waist, hugging you to him, he had to admit (to himself and only himself) that he felt a hint of jealousy.
Was his companionship not enough for you? Even worse, was he so inadequate that you had to pick the damn chef who so pathetically threw himself at you whenever  you so much as breathed in the same room as him?
You stayed friends, of course, but Zoro grew even more agitated with Sanji. You had expected this shift. He had never been overly fond of Sanji, and you being his girlfriend was never going to change that, but there was something else to his behaviour. Something beyond irritation at having Sanji being a slightly bigger part of his life.
"Why do you hate Sanji so much?"
The question came up one afternoon while the two of you were lounging around on the deck. You had wondered about it for a while, but never had the guts to bring it up.
"He just pisses me off. Always has." Zoro explained simply, although you noticed the way he tensed up when the chef's name was spoken. Before this, he would usually roll his eyes or scoff at the very mention of his least favourite crewmate. Now, he just seemed angry.
He was angry. Why did you have to ruin a perfectly good conversation with the mention of the cook?
"I know that. But why? What about him pisses you off?" Zoro looked like he wanted to be anywhere else at the moment, but he didn't back down.
"He's annoying. He hates me and I hate him. That's all there is." Zoro huffs and you tilt your head to the side. "Did he do something to you?"
Now Zoro takes the time to scoff. "No. I'd never let him." "So you just naturally hate each other?" He shrugs. "I guess. We couldn't all be winners." "At least you haven't thrown him off the boat." "Yet." Zoro adds.
"Well, thank you for not throwing him overboard. Yet." You say, looking out at the water. "If he breaks up with you I will." Zoro warns. "How considerate." "No problem."
He means it. If Sanji ended up breaking your heart, Zoro did not know what he would do. His relationship with Sanji was rocky enough, he did not need the added knowledge that he had hurt you to make it worse.
That day, when you go ashore to wander through the quaint little town, arm in arm with Sanji, Zoro feels a little hole in his chest. He has always disliked Sanji, but the cook has been more intolerable for the past while.
He cannot stop thinking about why you fell for him. Was it really the never ending compliments and gift giving? He never really took you for the type to like clingy, but apparently you did. He could admit that Sanji was attractive and that probably played a role in it, but there had to be something missing. Did you really like Sanji that much? Was he really that much of a catch?
It was almost a mercy to find out that the town was experiencing issues with a group of people hiding in the forest, occasionally burning down buildings in town and stealing their goods. Zoro nearly thanked the man who told them about it, just because it got his mind off you and your lovey-dovey boyfriend.
After almost immediately witnessing the burning of a young family's home, Luffy decided that justice needed to be served. And so, the crew went into the forest.
A local woman, who was related to a couple people in the forest, had joined you. She was nice enough, and pretty as well, which was what brought Zoro back to thinking about you and Sanji.
He saw the way you looked at Sanji upon her arrival. When he complimented your guide for her work and praised her for her knowledge of the woods, you detached from his side, claiming that the path was getting smaller and you would stay behind.
For the entirety of the walk, Sanji seemed enamoured with the girl. The way he behaved was far tamer than the way he had flirted prior to your relationship, but it was still embarrassing to watch him speak to the girl whilst you stayed a few paces behind, posture straight, pretending that nothing was wrong.
The worst part was the fact that Sanji hardly seemed to notice. He was too wrapped up in his business to see the twitch in your brow every time he leaned a little too close to her. Too busy to see you avert your eyes at the sound of another compliment leaving his mouth and sticking to the girl.
You eventually walked slow enough that Zoro, who brought up the rear of the group, caught up to you.
He said nothing, sure that anything he said would be far too rude to say about the man you were dating, but he had no reason to worry, because you did not start up a conversation. You just continued walking, until the group came upon a little camp site in the woods.
The group showed up at the camp, feeling a little aggressive given the situation. However, the people seemed completely unknowing about this forest arsonist, saying that all their goods were foraged and hunted, and that they had cut off all contact with the town.
There was no altercation. In fact, they were incredibly welcoming, which was likely thanks to your guide, who found her cousins quickly enough.
You stuck with Zoro, chatting with an older man who explained to you that they had separated from the town a few years back and had since been living in the forest, in order to reunite with nature. He made no mention of the fires or the stolen goods. The man hardly seemed mad at the townspeople, and the woman seemed to get along fine with her cousins, despite the fact that they supposedly were out destroying buildings in her town.
You stayed with the group until nightfall, when suggestions for dinner were made. Sanji offered to make the meal, as a show of goodwill, but you could not help but notice the offer was made to the group but directed at the guide.
The entire time Sanji spent talking to the people, the girl stayed nearly glued to his side, and he made no show of discomfort about it.
When you noticed Zoro on the outskirts of the forest, you joined him. Again, neither of you said anything, opting to just glare at Sanji, hovering over his handiwork.
The stew he made was good, as were all of his dishes, but you found that you were not particularly hungry at the moment.
Even as the people huddled around the fire, talking happily to each other, you sat away from them, hidden behind a tent with your full bowl of stew.
Zoro had just received his bowl, giving a judging look at Sanji as he passed, and instantly searched for you. Luffy and Usopp were entertaining the people with tales of their high seas adventures and Nami stood off to the side, looking for any valuables, but they seemed to have no riches to speak of, much to her chagrin.
Zoro looked around the crowd multiple times before he began walking away from the firelight.
He found you quickly enough, huddled behind a tent, barely touched bowl of stew sitting on the ground in front of you as you stared into the forest, eyes glazed over slightly.
"What are you doing?" You jumped at his voice, relaxing after realising it was just your friend. "Nothing. Just sitting. Thinking."
You looked back into the dark of the forest, hardly even sparing a glance at your dinner.
"Why aren't you eating?" Zoro asked, sitting next to you, resting his bowl on his lap.
Your gaze remained locked on the forest. "He's been stuck to that girl all day." You said, trying to keep your voice level.
"And he's doing that damn thing he always does when there's a woman in front of him." You felt a knot in your stomach. "I thought he would stop doing it, but he just keeps finding more women to drench in compliments and attention."
Zoro was not stupid. He was sure almost everyone on the crew realized that after you and him got together, he had not changed much about the way he spoke to women he found attractive on the shore, which -knowing Sanji- was nearly every woman he saw. He had eased off of Nami after she told him to stop multiple times, but he seemed unable to help it when a woman who didn't know that he was already romantically involved entered his line of sight.
"He's an ass." Zoro huffed. You tucked your legs into your chest. "He made a stew like this when we first got together. It was different ingredients and it was on the boat, but he still made it."
"Do you want me to hit him?" Zoro asked. The thought sounded intriguing, but you put a hand out when he tried to stand. "No. I don't need you two fighting on top of this."
Zoro said nothing. He did not want to hurt you, or make the situation worse, even though there was an exaggerated hate in him towards Sanji now. Not only had the chef acted like this in front of you, but he had barely noticed that you were upset.
Slowly, he began to think of how much better he could be. He would never look at other women for even a second longer than necessary. He would pay attention to you day and night, searching for any signs of you being hurt. He would fight for you and love you far deeper than the stupid chef ever could.
And yet, he said nothing. At the end of the day, you were with Sanji. Even if Zoro hated him, he would not try stealing you. You had made your decision. He was going to live with it.
"Can I tell you something?" You asked quietly, voice barely audible. "Always."
You took a breath, and Zoro wondered what you had been hiding that was worth this level of stress.
"I don't think I would've gotten with him if I hadn't been desperate."
Zoro sat in the silence that followed. Desperate? That was the reason you were with Sanji? Desperation? Did that mean he had a chance? Before you fell into Sanji's arms?
"Desperate?" You hesitated. "Yeah. I wanted a relationship, and Sanji was there, complimenting me all the time and cooking things I liked, and begging me to give him a chance, so I did."
"So you settled for him?" You frowned at the way he said it, and shook your head. "I didn't settle. I liked him. I still do. It's just that he wasn't my first choice."
Zoro raised an eyebrow. "Who was your first choice?" He couldn't help but hope his name fell out of your mouth. You just stayed silent for a moment.
In all honesty, Zoro had been your first choice, but you refused to breach the boundaries of your friendship at the time. You still refused to do it.
"I didn't have a first choice." The lie came out rough, but if Zoro noticed, he did not mention it. "I just wanted it and Sanji was giving it out." You buried your head in your hands, groaning. "So I guess it shouldn't bother me that he's like this."
"You don't deserve him." Zoro did not curb his words. "You're too good." You let out a dry laugh. "Not like there's anyone else on my roster."
"There might be." You resisted the urge to blush. What did Zoro mean by that? Was he offering himself?
"Oh yeah? Who?" You hoped he said his name. You hoped and prayed with everything in you that he admitted to being your secret admirer. That he wanted to ruin your friendship and become your boyfriend.
"I don't know. You're pretty. You're nice. Anyone would be lucky to have you." Your heart sank, but you did not say anything about your disappointment. "You think I'm pretty, huh?" He looked away. "Forget it." You giggled. "The future greatest swordsman in the world thinks I'm pretty. And nice!" You fanned yourself dramatically. He huffed, but a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "Okay, take it easy. I was only saying that to make you feel better."
You scoffed. "Sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night." Then a change came over you, fueled by his admission that he found you pretty. You shifted closer to him, testing the waters. "For the record, I think you're handsome. And you are the best friend I could ever ask for." He laughed it off. "Okay softie, eat your food."
You did, feeling comfortable enough to handle the cooled stew, managing to get halfway through the bowl before you gave up, returning to your thoughts of your boyfriend, clinging to the girl you had just met.
"I'm gonna go to bed." Zoro watched as you picked up the half empty bowl to return it. "So early?" You were no party machine, but you did enjoy staying up late. This was weighing on you heavily.
"Yeah, I don't know. I'm tired." It was obvious you didn't want to be a part of the fun, not if you were going to be forced to watch Sanji flirt with another woman in front of you.
"Come on, don't let that idiot ruin your night. Forget him." The start of Zoro's proposal sounded a little harsh, but it could not be helped. "Hang out with me, let him feel jealous for once."
The words were laced with the undertone of pleading for you to say yes, to spend a night with him, separate from the man who seemed to care about you until another woman showed up.
"Fine." You sighed, peeking behind the tent at the scene around the fire. "But I get to leave whenever I want. No guilt tripping."
Zoro stood, taking your bowl from you. "I don't guilt trip." You hummed in disagreement.
Zoro returned the bowls for you, so that you would not have to face Sanji, who, as expected, was still stuck to the local woman, talking about his cooking. He only hesitated at the sight of the half full bowl in Zoro's hands.
"Was it not to your taste?" Sanji asked. Zoro resisted the urge to tell him that the full bowl was not his, and instead belonged to his girlfriend whom he was currently ignoring in favour of some woman he hardly knew.
"Yeah. Tasted sour." Zoro left Sanji with the bowls, stalking off behind the tents again to retrieve you.
The two of you sat away from the main circle, meeting with a few of the hunters, who were preparing weapons for the next hunt.
You talked with them for a while, enjoying their presence. You had to admit that it was worth it to stay up and talk, even if you spent time occasionally looking over at Sanji to see if he had noticed you not paying attention to him.
One of the hunter's wives came over, sitting next to her husband with a smile. "So how long have you two been together?" She asked, looking between you and Zoro.
Immediately there was sputtering and excuses being made. "He's not- We're not- I'm actually with the cook over there."
You jabbed a finger in front of Zoro, pointing across the way at Sanji, but none of the surrounding people seemed convinced. "If you say so." The woman laughed, clearly not buying it.
It was a terrible excuse in hindsight, to deflect the accusations by pointing out the only member of your crew who was currently making eyes at another girl.
If you had covered with Luffy, Usopp or Nami, that would be plenty convincing. None of them had spent the whole night flirting up the same girl, giving her all sorts of compliments and praises, spending all their time at her side.
You went quiet afterwards, and Zoro even asked if you wanted to go to bed, but you refused. You stayed up until the fire slowly died out, and people went into their tents.
You stayed up late enough that Sanji finally paid attention to you again, coming over to say goodnight.
"Ah, my love!" He came over, wrapping you in a hug that made everyone's eyebrows jump to their hairlines. You had not been lying about the flirt being yours.
"Hey Sanji." You settled yourself, trying to pretend like nothing was wrong. "How did you like your meal, darling? I know your friend here could only stomach a few bites."
You looked over at Zoro, who rolled his eyes at the comment. "It was good as always." You smiled. "I haven't tasted anything better." Sanji grinned, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, before looking up at everyone around the two of you with a smile.
"I hope my stew wasn't sour for any of you." He said kindly, shooting a brief and scathing look at Zoro.
"Of course not. It was hearty. You're a good cook. We might want to keep you here with us." One of the hunters joked.
"I'm sure Kyla would love it if you stayed." Another hunter added, sounding mildly antagonistic. The name made your blood run cold. So the girl had a name. Sanji seemed to freeze for a second. Almost as if he was about to acknowledge that he had been ignoring you all night. That he now knew that everyone could see his negligence.
"Right. Kyla." Hearing the name from his lips felt like a terrible betrayal. "She's a lovely girl, but I have my lovely girlfriend and a crew to feed. I couldn't stay, unfortunately."
The circle went silent for a small second before Sanji cleared his throat, patting your shoulder.
"I'm going to sleep now, my angel. Okay?" Sanji whispered into your ear. You nodded curtly. "Sleep well. I love you." "I love you too, my dove."
Sanji left with a generous goodbye, leaving you with the hunters. And Zoro.
Nobody said anything, a few people watched Sanji all the way into his tent.
One of the younger hunters, younger than you, at the very least, stared at the scene, slack-jawed.
"That's your boyfriend? He's been stuck to Kyla all night!" She gasped. "Do you want us to kill him?" You laughed off the offer. "No, that's alright. I think it's time for me to go to bed too." Zoro did not protest this time. "It's been so nice getting to meet you all. Tonight has been wonderful. Goodnight."
The hunters said soft goodbyes, and you could feel their eyes on you as you snuck into the tent you were sharing with Nami and a few other women. Not Kyla, thankfully.
Zoro watched as the tent flap swished shut. The hunters immediately started asking questions. They seemed to be terrible gossips, and while Zoro was more than ready to vent his frustrations, he stayed quiet. That was your business. Not theirs.
"I'm going too. Big day tomorrow." He left without fanfare, into the tent set up for the boys. Sanji was inside, and Luffy was fast asleep, sprawled across his grass mattress, snoring. Zoro's jaw clenched at the sight of Sanji, but said nothing.
Luckily, he didn't have to.
"Did she seem off to you tonight?" Sanji asked cautiously.
Zoro's blood boiled. "Who? Kyla? Or your girlfriend?"
"What's got you so moody?" Sanji asked, not expecting this sudden anger. "You spent the entire night flirting with a stranger, completely ignoring your girlfriend. Yeah she was acting off. I'm surprised you noticed her at all, given she tried to hide away from you at any point possible."
"I was being nice. You might want to try it sometime." "There's a difference between nice and eye-fucking a woman you hardly know."
"You stay out of this, if she had a problem with it, she would have said something." "She can't say anything because you won't change! You think this is the first time this has happened? You going off to flirt up some woman while I stay back with your 'love-angel-darling' and watch her cry over a man who doesn't make an effort to care for her over any other woman in the world?"
Sanji's fists clenched. "Why don't you shut up?" "Why don't you pay attention to her?" "This isn't your business!" "It is when I'm the only one who notices she's hiding behind a tent trying to escape the sight of you drooling over another woman!"
"I was not-" "You are so lucky to have her. You don't deserve her greatness in your life."
Sanji went silent at that. The thought had plagued him many a time before. "That's what I thought."
Zoro pretended to go to sleep after that, though he was too angry to actually do so.
Instead, after he was sure everyone else was asleep, he snuck outside to think.
He did not leave the safety of the clearing, wondering and thinking about you.
He wondered if you could possibly have feelings for him. If you thought he could be a better boyfriend than Sanji. If he asked you to love him, would you be willing to?
He hoped with everything in him that this was the final straw. The one thing that broke your and Sanji's relationship forever. He wanted you to stand up for yourself. He didn't want you stuck with the stupid cook out of desperation. He wanted you to find someone you truly loved, who treated you right. Maybe, hopefully, that was him, maybe it was someone you had yet to meet. Either way, he did not think it was Sanji.
As he paced, he heard movement in the woods. A collection of figures darted through the forest, for only Zoro's eyes to see. It wasn't anyone from the camp, they were all safely tucked away in their beds, getting a good night's sleep.
He finally remembered the point of this whole endeavor was to find the root of the problem from the village, back on the shore, but everything there seemed so disconnected at this point.
He logged the strange forest figures in his mind and continued to think of you. Just you. The way you smiled at his jokes. Your eyes and the way you watched him when you thought he was not looking. Your sense of humor and how quickly you were able to give him a witty comeback.
Every inch of you and your personality was intoxicating to him, and it had taken far too long for him to realize that. He wanted you to be with him. Just him.
And he hated that Sanji had what he wanted so badly.
Zoro snuck back into his tent, but there was little sleep to be had. He woke up tired, but covered it up, just in time to hear that Sanji had also volunteered to cook breakfast.
Zoro drowsily accepted what Sanji had prepared, slipping off to the hunters, hoping to find you with them as well, but you were missing.
Still asleep, he was told.
When you finally made your appearance, you sought out Sanji and led him away from the group.
The urge to listen in was too strong, and Zoro stood, moving towards the tent you and Sanji had hidden behind.
"I need you to stop flirting with other women. You can tell them they're pretty. You can compliment them. But I am tired of watching you latch onto them like a parasite."
Zoro listened for a while, as you and Sanji went back and forth, discussing boundaries and expectations. Neither of you raised your voices as there was no argument, and Zoro felt his heart drop. Of course you had fixed this. You always could.
He turned around, ready to leave, coming face to face with Luffy.
"Hey Zoro!" He grinned. "What are you doing?"
Zoro felt hollow for believing he could be with you."I was looking for you. Last night, I saw a group of people sneaking into the forest. Could be the ones we're looking for."
Zoro just wanted away. He was happy for you. You had established your boundaries and fixed your relationship. He just needed to distract himself from the heartbreak he was experiencing.
"Oh really? That's great! We should go find them right now!"
Maybe you would break up with Sanji eventually, if he fell into old habits and started ignoring you again. Maybe. Or maybe you wouldn't. That was the problem. He didn't know.
"Yeah we should."
He wanted you to come back to him. Accept his love. Forget the cook and be with him. Forever. But he knew better. You saw him as a friend. He wouldn't ruin your relationship.
"Well let's go!"
Luffy ran to fetch everyone else while Zoro sat, the feelings inside him festering, leaving a stripe of rot against his heart.
You bounded up to his side, a grin on your face. "Me and Sanji talked. He says he's gonna try being better for me."
Zoro swallowed and it felt like a rock was scraping its way down his throat. "That's good." "Yeah, it is. Thanks for dealing with me last night." "No problem."
You gave him a calm smile that made his insides swirl. You had him completely under your spell. "Good job spotting those guys last night. I didn't even see them."
He did not tell you that he saw them after everyone else went to bed, he just hoped Sanji had not told you about the fight.
When Luffy set off into the woods once more, you stuck to Sanji. Fair. You were his girlfriend. Zoro felt the ache in his chest again, but said nothing of it. He was your friend. He would always be there for you if you needed him. Even if you did not love him the same way.
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wolven91 · 6 months ago
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The Artist's Eye
"Why does it look so strange?" Asked the noble, tilting his head one way, then the other.
"I believe it's wider than it should be. I have a summer home that has those buildings in the background there..." A scaled, clawed hand points at the backdrop of the portrait. "The buildings are far thinner in real life. Everything is wider than it should be." Claimed the second noble, another male whose tongue briefly flicked out from between his scaled lips and lapped at the blue liquid in his delicate glass.
The pair of them continued to observe the giant portrait painting of an ursidain general. It was unheard of, and completely novel. A painting! With oils and hand-crafted hues and paints. If one leaned in, and observed the collection from the side, one could even see the uneven strokes and application of the paints against a canvas. The subject didn't matter, the ursidain was practically unheard of, but his commissioned painted was on loan to the ssypno people for a gallery event, featuring a human artist.
His style was unknown, his methods unorthodox to the point of being unheard of outside of ancient texts that describe using chintian fur brushes.
"Wider? I would say this would be the wrong portrait to observe if we are wanting to check if the human's eye adds inches to the subjects girth!" Tittered the noble, gesturing at the rotund ursidain. Unbeknownst to them, the general had been delighted at his portrait and only at the promise he could have another done, did he relinquish possession of his painting.
The two nobles approached another painting, this one of a member of House Sa'vurn. 'The Promised Daughter', one 'Desh Sa'vurn', the people's favourite.
The two nobles joined a third, a female who was coiled directly in front of it.
"Her eyes are rather alive, don't you think?" The noble asked openly, drawing the two male's attention. It was true, Desh's eyes followed them. One of the males felt judged, as if the people's favourite Sa'vurn had found him wanting, whilst the other found them angry, as she were posed to strike him.
"If you observe each of his subjects, they are all observed in one fashion or another, but it is their eyes where he has put in more detail than other artists." The noble observed.
"Why? I would know more of the subject if her body posture made sense. Her shoulders are back, but her tail coiled? Her hood is flared yet not a dot of heat."
"Of course there's no heat, it is an oil painting." The lady sighed, pointing out the obvious. "We are observing what the human sees."
"No heat? Boring." Moaned the judged male.
"Fascinating I say. We are stripped down to our most basic parts. There is no lying when standing in in front of his easel. He ignores or is blind to our attempts to show our heat, to radiate what we want others to perceive." Extrapolated the lady noble, referencing how almost every single ssypno in the gallery was displaying as much heat as they could in their hoods, to show that they were successful and didn't need to conserve their heat. She frowned as she reached out, only to stop herself from touching the canvas.
"I do wonder why do many portions are left so dark?"
"I can answer that my lady." Came a lyrical voice from behind. The trio of ssypno turned at once and met the eye of an esquinine. He didn't flinch, or close one eyes, but met their gazes without fear in turn.
"I have been privy to the human's art from the beginning, he rented my loft when he arrived on our home world." Explained the long-faced empath.  "The portions that are dark to you, are actually a sea of different colours, but more in the hues of purples and dark blues. I'm afraid these are colours outside of your visual range."
The trio of large serpants turned back to the art and squinted, as if trying to force their vision to focus and draw forth a colour they'd never seen.
"It is one thing to know one has limited visual colours, it is another to stand before what we know is there and be unable to see it." The female noble lamented.
"Ugh, annoying. Why would he paint a ssypno with colours a ssypno can't see? Insulting."
"He paints for his own enjoyment; it just so happens that others consider this art worth money. Amazing than an artist is more creative when they aren't starving." Noted the esquinine before bowing curtly and leaving the ssypno behind. The esquinine meandered through and over the tails that trailed behind the various gallery patrons before slipping into a side down and strutting down a quiet hallway.
He came to a door, pressed his thumb to the reader then stepped inside.
The human was sat watching the screens.
"How's it going?" He asked, nervously nibbling on a nail. The esquinine stepped over and gently slapped the top of the human's hand, reminding him to stop with the nervous habit.
"Well. They still don't quite 'get' it, but then they are the upper crust. Dry and tasteless." Observed the empath, who turned to watch the screens as a crowd of ssypno tried to force their own world view onto art made by a wholly different species with a very different life to them.
"It's fun seeing ignorance get exposed over and over though..." Considered the esqunine, resting his head against a finger.
"Just because I see the world differently..." Mumbled the human, mildly frustrated.
"Galaxy, and I would be quick to point out they love to remind you, that you are smell blind. I think its rather justified to remind them that they are blind to a whole world of colours, no matter how rich they are." Pointed out the alien with a cold tone to the nobles.
"Body mods are a thing." Supplied the young man, considering how they could choose to have different eyes with their money.
"And admit they aren't perfect? They'd have an ice bath first." Came the esquinine's reply, without missing a beat, taking the human by surprise.
The human grinned and couldn't help but smile at the curt and cutting remarks of his closest ally, cheering him up immediately.
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mammoth-clangen · 5 days ago
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I love seeing the colour patterns on your clan gen homotherium and smilodon.
They remind me of cat colours. Colour mutations in animals (cats and prehistoric animals on general too) are my special interest
I remember that my favourite smilodon design was the one from Primeval. I still have the box sets and they were my favourite as a kid (and now lol).
Sad that Smilodon was most likely tawny like lions. It apparently lived in open areas so most likely wouldn't have spots or stripes. But that doesn't mean we can't draw them like it. Also I wonder what mutations they did have in real life (like white lions, white tigers, "strawberry" erythristic leopards, albino leopard, and melanistic leopards and jaguars do appear in the wild)
I actually discovered your comic when I followed the homotherium tag after seeing the frozen cub. I once saw lyuba the mammoth at the natural history museum, London, at a limited exhibition. I'm completely obsessed with the permafrost mummies. I hope I get to see more in person one day.
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Here's my kitty, Zoe.
Oh my goosh what a cute cat ;A;
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here's my creature, Fat Tilly! She's an 11yr old Selkirk rex who likes loafing and lying in the sun c:
And thank you! I adore colour mutations in extant animals and I agree that it's really fun to contemplate them in extinct ones c:
I'm gonna preempt this getting long and put a cut here jhrjhrf
I'm sure you will already have seen this, but for anyone interested in paleoart depictions of colour mutations, I'd really recommend this great article all about it
White Cat, Gold Plains was actually all about the premise of a Homotherium with piebaldism. Pied is one of my favourite pigment mutations because it's so much deeper than integument patterns; it's actually a neural tube defect that leads to distinct behavioural changes. WC,GP was about Kiina, the pied cat, and her struggles with always being view as 'childish' by her peers and struggling to fit in. There was also more human impact in this story, as Kiina gets picked up as a cub by a group of early humans. It was sort of my own experience/musings on neurodivergency played alongside some thoughts on early domestication attempts humans must have had (though we all know that, sadly, Homotherium did not end up domesticated). Pied animals are typically more trusting, which is why you see so many pied domestic animals! (Fat Tilly and Zoe both are, for example lolol)
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Also the Primeval Smilodon has one of the most gorgeous and distinct designs of any media sabercat tbh, I really loved the episode as a whole even though it had a sort of sad-but-expected ending.
I don't remember where I read it, but there was someone discussing Smilodon patterns and the conclusion was basically "we can't be sure". While lions are solid as adults, they're spotted as cubs and likely had spotted ancestors seeing Pantherines seem to have strongly contrasting patterns as the default. Machairodontids aren't even the same lineage as Pantherines, so we really can't know what patterns they had except for Homotherium latidens having dark brown cubs! They could just as easily grow into a different adult coat, like hyena do. (side note, I was sorta hoping that absolutely amazing Homotherium mummy news might drag some people to my comic so I'm glad it did lolol)
Smilodon was also likely very ambush dependent, being too bulky for pursuits even as long as modern lions. Disruptive colouration could have helped with this even in fairly open habitats. This is actually why I gave the Ice Fangs very faint stripes; high contrast tiger striping didn't make much sense, but breaking up the outline a little couldn't be a bad thing even in a steppe environment. I also didn't want them completely solid because there are actual lions to differentiate cx
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