#outside of that they were completely out of reach and that was the norm & the expectation

[hoovesandfloorpaws]

need too add the tags too ☺️

Why do so many people have such an issue with Harry? Is it just because he is more commercially successful? I know you don’t know what everyone thinks but I am sure you have heard way more than me. I guess I just see someone who is introverted and private outside of his career but gives 100% at his shows and is engaging, funny and personable. Instead of being in a position to have to blatantly lie about personal matters, he chooses to remain silent. Can you help me understand why there is more of an issue with him?

I think that's a question that likely has as many answers as people you ask. I could make a long list, but it's just pointless. My general feeling is that most people don't really think very deeply about it. They see a few headlines, they see a bunch of TikTok comments, and they make a snap judgment: He's a dick, I don't like him, he's over-hyped.

In general, I find that when someone reaches a certain level of success, there's a precarious balance between remaining in the public eye and having your presence feel over-saturated. People were definitely sick of him after Holivia. His disappearing now is probably the best thing he could do for his career.

Beyond this, people love to knock someone off a pedestal. A lot of that, IMO, has to do with their own insecurities. It feels good to support someone who's "on your level" who likes the things you like and does the things you do, and who has been through challenges you also struggle with. It makes you feel good about yourself. Harry is very open and vulnerable with his music, but he doesn't spoon-feed the masses with simple lyrics or by spelling things out in a straightforward way. That pisses some people off, and they call him pretentious. They poke fun at him for doing the things he likes because somehow they don't relate to those things. I don't know. I don't get it.

To me, he's inspirational and aspirational. I'm curious about the books he reads, the art he likes, and the music he listens to... even if most of it is super esoteric and quirky. For me, he's curious about the world around him and is always looking for something new. I love that. Maybe it's just the stage of life I'm in, but I'd rather be introduced to things I've never experienced or heard of than be around people doing the same stuff I already do myself.

[invincidick]

Without me?

+18

Mohawk mark x F!Reader

Warnings: Smut, Angst, Dubious consent, Kidnapping, Abusive relationship, Stockholm syndrome, Varient invincible

summary: Mohawk mark finds you having fun without him.

2k words

my next fic will be PATHETIC MARK x f!reader, stay tuned.

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It had been months since Mark had brought you to live with him. You were completely alone, this was the norm, he was always gone all day. All you knew about his excursions is that he would be out "dealing" with the remaining protesters, or at least that's all he told you. You didn't like to think about the things he did when he left out that front door.

You woke up without him next to you, staring at the empty space beside you, you let out a sigh, longingly extending a hand out to his side of the bed, placing it on the sheets, reaching out for him. You missed him.

Everyday the only things you would have to distract yourself were the things he brought back with him, he didn't want you leaving the house, and you didn't dare to ever break this rule. Yet you would always catch yourself staring out the big windows that looked out into the beautiful backyard with that big willow in the corner, rose bushes lining the back of the fence, framing the wildflower sprinkled grass. You wanted nothing more than to go out and enjoy the fresh air, but resigned yourself to just looking. It was what he wanted.

He was always bringing home different "presents" from his outings, as if he was coming home from some business trip. If they were to win you over or make you feel better about the way things turned out you never knew. The presents consisted of things usually for his entertainment, new clothes he wanted to see you in, lingerie, even coming home with sex toys once, but occasionally he would get something just for you. Your TV, a little thing mark set up to keep you occupied while he was away. It was mostly to try and prevent you from going stir crazy but you cherished it nonetheless.

You loved that TV, it was your only form of distraction in this fucked up world. You would watch your old favorite shows for hours on repeat, missing how new episodes used to be released, stuck with only 3 seasons, forever. Sometimes even just watching TV made you think about all the things you had lost, the mark you once knew, your family, your friends, they were all gone.

You cried more days than not. Everything just always felt like too much. It was suffocating, the person you longed for, clung to at night, cried to, was a murderer. Yet still, everyday he left, you missed him. You didn't know what do to without him, how to live without him, he made you whole. It made you sick.

He was destructive, brutal even, hitting you when you brought up the idea of being let outside one too many times that day. It always shocked you each time, you never expect it. After the sting of pain starts to set in, you would cry, clinging to him, doing the only thing you knew how to.

Why did you make me do this? he would say, malice lacing his words, as he shakes you off of him, leaving you on the floor to pick up the pieces.

Sitting on the couch, knees to your chest, you hoped that the Mark you used to know was still in there somewhere, begging to be let out, the Mark that looked at you with so much love in his eyes, the Mark who held you gently as you fell asleep, the Mark who never raised a fist towards you.

It made your stomach flutter reminiscing about the way Mark used to be. The one who made you feel like his number one priority in bed, just the thought made you flush all over instinctively. Mindlessly your hand roams down the curve of your hip to fall between your thighs, softly running a finger across your clit as your back curves slightly. Your thighs part slowly as your finger works in gentle circles, teasing, gradually making you come undone, just like how he used to. Your other hand reaching up to cup at your breast, soft moans spilling from your lips as your hips chase the feeling of fingers against your heat.

Lost in your own fantasy, you don't notice the sounds coming from the back door. Unbeknownst to you Mark was now standing just a few feet behind you watching you desperately circle your clit with shaky fingers. Right when he sees that you're getting close, he interrupts.

"What are you doing?" Marks voice sounded from behind you. You froze. Your head turned towards his voice, only to see him standing right behind the couch, looking down at you, your position leaving nothing to the imagination. Your hands quickly move down to your lap, totally unassuming. "Nothing-" you respond, you start to squeeze your legs together when a firm hand grabs at your thigh, holding you in place.

His head leans down to your ear, "Are you seriously touching yourself?" he asks, you feel your face start to heat up, all you can focus on is his warm hand firmly squeezing your thigh.

"Just couldn't wait for me to get back huh?" he spoke, breath hot against your ear, you shiver in response and he starts to lick and bite up your ear lobe, reveling in the way you writhe and shake below him.

"God you're so pathetic"

He reaches an arm over your shoulder and fingers ghost over your clit as he reaches down to your cunt, your breath hitches as he continues, palming the damp spot soaking your panties. "You're already this wet from just a bit of touching?" he laughs, pressing on your entrance over top the thin layer of fabric, your hand shoots up to cover your mouth as you moan against his fingers.

He dips his fingers below the fabric and pushes two fingers into your pussy, pumping in and out, rhythmically curling inside you, occasionally scissoring to stretch you out. He moves a hand to your jaw and forces your lips onto his, your eyes squeeze shut, not giving you a moment to breathe as he forces a tongue inside your mouth. The kiss is aggressive, and sloppy, but when he uses you, it makes your body burn with desire.

You lose yourself, moaning into his mouth, clenching around him, feeling his fingers deep inside your cunt. Curling his knuckle again, your hips roll against his palm, as you starts to squeeze around him, cumming as he continues to pump his fingers in and out, working you through your orgasm till your hips come to a stop. He releases your jaw, lips pulling away from yours as he pulls his fingers from out of you and starts to lick them clean.

You didn't know when you had started crying but dried tears stained your face. You watched as he tasted you on his fingers, drunk with lust.

"How about we head upstairs." This was not a question, it was a demand, it made you dizzy with anticipation, you were feverish, desperate. You swallow, nodding your head, he smirks, leading you upstairs with his hand trailing down the arch of your back.

When you get to the door he pushes you inside slamming the door behind him. He places kisses on your neck, pushing you back onto the bed with ease. You fall back onto your elbows as he grabs your knees pressing them flush against your chest, you could feel his hard dick pressing up against your ass. He rocked his hips against yours, groaning as his dick strained against his tight suit.

He reaches down, ripping away the thin layer of fabric separating him from your tight, dripping heat. "Fuck, you look so delicious." he says licking his lips before leaning down to lap at your cunt, savoring the taste, dipping his tongue inside you. You squirm beneath the assault of pleasure on your nerves, only serving to get you pressed down harder into the mattress, as he continued to lap up the juices that came flowing out of your hole.

Then hes turning his attention to your swollen clit, wrapping his lips around it and sucking, your hands gripped the sheets below you as you screamed. "Holy shit- wait- Mark please." you begged, breathing ragged, as tears welled up in your eyes. He ignored your pleas and continued sucking and swiping his tongue across your clit, your head slammed back against the bed as you moaned.

He enjoyed every second that your taste was on his tongue, diving in for more every time. He was relentless, your toes curled as his mouth was latched onto your clit, using the flat of his tongue to flick the underside of your clit, making you come almost immediately. He finished by lapping up the slick dripping out of you from your climax.

"Damn, you taste so good babe." he said as he grinned, he was truly obsessed with you, he wanted to explore every part of you, to own you, completely. You belonged to him, he decided what he did to you, he decided if you felt pleasure, and he definitely had decided tonight.

"You're mine." he said as he leaned over your small figure, pulling his dick out from his skin tight suit, groaning at the slight contact of his fingers. He was aching for the heat of your body, his dick painfully hard as he lined his tip up to your entrance, his eyes shutting as he slammed inside.

He begins a brutal pace, giving you no time to adjust to his length as his hips crash into yours, you're crying, begging him to give you a minute, he just keeps thrusting, chasing the feeling of you squeezing him dry. He pauses for a second, pulling all the way out and shoving back in all at one, bruising your cervix.

Your leg weakly reaches up to try and force him out of you, and he grabs it, placing it over his shoulder to fuck you even deeper. Your vision is hazy and your mind threatens to give out when suddenly you're being pulled from your thoughts by a hand gripping your neck.

"You still with me?" he asks through his breathless laughs, his hand constricting around your windpipe, fingers pressing on your artery's . You can't breathe, and hes still forcing his dick deep inside you, fucking your pussy raw. You can't breathe and he's still moaning as your tight cunt clenches around him. You can't breathe and yet you're still cumming, back arching, and insides spasming around his cock as you scream his name.

His thrusts start to stutter as he finishes inside you, groaning as his come pumps inside you. His hand releases your neck as you gasp out for air, practically hyperventilating underneath him, and before you know it he's already getting up, leaving to the bathroom. You lie there, feeling dejected. You hear the shower start.

You stumble off the bed and onto your feet as you make your way into the bathroom. You didn't want him to leave you. You opened the shower curtain and stepped in beside him.

"Woah, hey-" he says genuinely surprised, for a second you see a mix of confusion and shame on his face, which is immediately replaced by a suggestive smirk as he gropes your soft boobs in his hands, pressing his chest up against your back. "I thought you were refusing to shower with me because of what happened last time." He rubs a thumb over your nipple as you shut your eyes, squeezing in a breath.

"I just- missed you." you say, anguish lacing your tone. He moves his hands away from your boobs and towards your waist, hugging you from behind, resting his head on your shoulder as the water rains down on you both. "Well there's nothing to miss, I'm right here." he says matter-of-factly. You melt into his touch, loving when you got to experience the parts of him that felt more like him, you believed this is who he was at his core. This was him, gentle, soft, considerate, that was your Mark.

Please, let's just stay this way, forever.

[sweemmy]

⋆｡ﾟThe Gregorian era was a time when those with desires outside the social norm lived in the shadow of secrecy, a truth these women knew all too well. ﾟ｡⋆

— Vi, Caitlyn, Sevika, and Jinx.

VI.

Vi has never fit into the molds that society tries to impose on her—always rebellious, always challenging the rules. But this time, the struggle is different. There are no punches or screams, just a battle that burns in silence, fought deep in her heart… and this time, she’s completely alone.

When she sees you at events, draped in the elegance expected of a respectable lady, her gaze turns cold, almost unyielding. But it’s not because of you. It’s because of the oppressive system that binds her hands, even denying her the right to look at you the way she truly wants.

Every word exchanged is a carefully measured move on an invisible board. Vi offers you a wry smile, murmuring, "It’s a pleasure to see you," but behind that strong façade, her hands tremble with the uncontrollable urge to reach for yours. She hates feeling vulnerable, but with you, she allows herself to be human.

She glides silently through the cobbled streets of Piltover, seeking out those hidden corners where her people gather. Here, finally, she feels free… but that freedom always casts a shadow, because you can’t be by her side.

She dreams of you more than she dares admit. She imagines escaping with you to a corner of the world where no one knows them, where names and titles fade into oblivion. But she always wakes, and reality reminds her that such a thing is nothing more than impossible.

When she hears other men speak of you, referring to you as the "gem" of the season, a fury burns in her chest, like poison twisting in her gut. "Why can they claim you with words, while I can’t even have you at all?" she wonders, rage and desire intertwined.

One moonless night, she found you lost in the gardens, surrounded by the stillness of the dark. The conversation that followed was soft, subtle, like a whisper in the breeze. Yet in your eyes, Vi thought she saw something more—a silent longing, a spark that reflected what she herself desired. But did she really see it, or was it just the echo of her own naive hope?

She feels that every word she speaks must be carefully calculated, but her love for you burns with an intensity she cannot contain. "If this is a sin," she reflects, letting out a bitter smile, "then let the flames consume me."

Finally, one day, Vi takes the pen and writes a letter, but she never delivers it. Instead, she watches it burn in the fireplace, letting her words dissolve in the flames, like her dearest dream, consumed to the last ash.

CAITLYN.

For Caitlyn, society has always been a chessboard, where every move is calculated with precision, each play evaluated down to the last detail. But you... you're the only move she knows she can never win.

She looks at the other young women who dream of marriage and can't help but feel a pang of envy. Not for them, but because she knows she will never get to enjoy the luxury of looking at you the way the men around you do, with admiration and desire in their eyes.

She writes letters to you with almost obsessive frequency—letters that never see the light of day. She sits at her desk, motionless and lost in thought until late into the night, trapped in the uncertainty of what everything could be like if the world were different.

At social gatherings, she stands by your side as a loyal friend, an elegant and discreet shadow who glides gracefully beside you. The looks from others are just noise; the only thing that matters is your presence beside her, even if it's in the silent role of "companion."

Once, someone dared to make a disparaging comment about "improper relationships." Caitlyn, with an exterior calm that seemed unshakable, didn't let her anger spill over in public, but inside, her indignation burned as fiercely as a scorching sun. No one, absolutely no one, was going to point fingers at you for something she herself held deep within.

She dreams of escaping, of running toward a future where she is free, but Caitlyn cannot deny the reality. "My duty is to protect my family, to protect you," she repeats over and over, holding onto those words like an anchor, trying to convince her heart that, in the end, that’s all that truly matters.

Sometimes, when your laughter rings out or when you take her arm with that confidence that seems to close the distance between you, her pulse races, as if each beat is a whisper of possibilities. In those moments, she allows herself to think that, if only they were braver, they could find an excuse to escape together, to leave behind everything that holds them back. But Caitlyn doesn't dare to be selfish, to risk everything she has built.

Every time she walks in the rain, she can’t help but think of you. The sense of freedom she feels in those moments is the same she longs for both of them, although, aware of the distance between you, she can only give you an empty smile and a "goodnight" that doesn't reflect all she wishes she could say.

The love she feels for you is like a silent wound. It doesn’t bleed, but it always hurts.

SEVIKA.

Sevika knows she’s not made to fit in. Her stance is unyielding, her presence a powerful force, but when she looks at you, something inside her breaks, as if everything she’s built crumbles in an instant.

At first, she denied it vehemently. She believed it was just a fleeting admiration, a passing desire that would fade with time. But soon, the harsh truth revealed itself: she is deeply in love, and that revelation consumes her with rage, because she knows she can’t have you.

Frustration boils inside her when she sees you talking to men who don’t deserve you. "Why should I stay silent? Why can they, and I can’t?"

Sevika was never one to follow rules; she always moved in her own territory, where the rules were flexible, and the consequences, few. But in this game, the rules are different, and she knows it. Any misstep, any wrong move, could destroy you. And she won’t allow it. She won’t let a mistake, no matter how small, bring an end to you.

She finds herself in the darkest corners of her mind, thinking of you more often than she’d like to admit. She imagines holding your hand in public, as if it were something natural, as others do. The mere thought of it is a delicious torture, a game of desires that slowly consumes her.

In a nearly imperceptible gesture, she once offered you her coat when the night was cold. "A courtesy," she said, but deep down, it was her only way of touching you.

Sevika hates the world she lives in. If she could, she would burn it all down to build a new one, one where no one could judge them.

Sometimes, in those dark, secret bars where she tends to lose herself, the glances from others challenge her, silently daring her. "I am what I am," she mutters under her breath, fiercely. Yet, deep in her mind, she never lets your name be tarnished, guarding it with a silent but unshakable loyalty.

Finally, in the solitude of her own company, Sevika whispers her love in a barely audible murmur. It’s a secret she will never reveal, but one that will burn in her chest, keeping her alive in every corner of her being.

JINX.

For Jinx, the world has always been a cruel and senseless place, but when you're near, for a fleeting moment, everything stops, as if the storm in her mind finds a corner of calm.

She doesn't know how to explain what she feels when she sees you, nor why her heart beats faster in your presence. At first, she thought it was just admiration, maybe a need, but soon she realized that what consumes her goes beyond that. It's something darker, more intense... something forbidden.

Jinx watches you from a distance, hidden in the shadows. She doesn't do it for fun, but because she's aware that getting too close could be a risk, both for you and for her.

In her overwhelmed mind, she imagines a world without rules or boundaries. "If there were no laws or morals, we could be everything, we could be together," she repeats to herself with a mix of rage and desire, as if the words could alter her reality.

Once, in an impulsive outburst, she stole a ribbon you wore in your hair. Now she keeps it as her most prized treasure. It's the closest she has to you.

She hears the rumors circulating, the whispers about how "you should get married soon." Meanwhile, Jinx erupts in anger, screaming and destroying everything in her path, but only when no one can see her. The very thought of losing you forever consumes her from the inside; she can't bear it.

She draws you in her notebooks, sketching little silhouettes hidden among chaotic scribbles and bursts of color. You are her only refuge in a world that burns with flames, her corner of calm amidst the chaos.

She dreams of you discovering her, of seeing through her facade and accepting her for what she truly is. But the fear of rejection holds her back.

In the end, Jinx whispers your name to the wind, as if it were a lost prayer addressed to a god who has never listened to her pleas.

[kaciebello]

Wrong address

Masterlist Delivery Express ✿ Summary: The reader sees an opportunity to run an untapped market in Hogwarts.  She just wishes people would put the proper address on it. Warnings: mention cigarettes, no use of y/n Authors note: English is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes beforehand. I want to spread this into a one-shot series. Proofread by me and me only (Ｔ▽Ｔ) • Previously: Left on delivered • Next part: Too many voicemails word count: 1.1k

notes to deliver: 365

It wasn't hard to find the Slytherin boys, usually you could hear them from miles away. That is why sometimes when they want to keep their business private, they sneak into the room of requirements. Not only was it soundproof, but no one just stumbled upon it. Most importantly nobody knows they hang out there. Or so the thought.

The giant door slides open revealing a makeshift sunroom. Nobody should have been able to find them there, yet they are not surprised when they see a certain Hufflepuff girl with a yellow bow in her hair. She was fondling a note in her hand looking at it confused. She steps into the room as a door closes behind her, making her way to the number of sofas in the room. The room senses her presence, makes sure there is room for her, and even goes as far as giving her a cup of tea.

“ What you got there mail girl?” asks Draco before closing his eyes and soaking up the artificial sun. Maybe he won't get sunburned from this one. 

“ Note for one of you…” all attention was on her now. Curiosity reeks from the boys. They are not strangers to being delivered notes or letters from the girl. If anything, it became like a norm at this point. Not that they ever respond to any.

“Well dont keep us on the edge of our seats. For who?” Says Mattheo eager to open it and read it.

“That's the point. I don't know.” She says and sighs. Promptly burying her head in her hands. Eager glances are swapped for confused ones.

Various versions of ‘Why do you mean you don't know.’ leave the boys. She just looks at the note before speaking.

“ I usually have people write to who on the folded note. and you know, that system works! Sure, some people mix Fred and George but who wouldn't.” She pauses, thumbs of agreement. She fips the note. “ This one is addressed to ‘ the cute guy from Slytherin’.”

“Oh sunshine, isn't it obvious? Give me the note.” Theodor says reaching for it. Blasie stops him with a disgusted look. She knew this would happen.

“Like hell it's you, if anyone here is cute it’s me!” says Draco no longer behaving like a cat in a sun but one that is about to pull out its claws. One by one the boys got increasingly offended if they were not suggested by the others. The girl places the note in her lap and reaches for her tea. It was amusing to see her fight for the title of the cute boy in Slytherin. And some people say they are dangerous.  Tooning them out, she looks around the room to admire it. 

“Sunshine.” Says Lorenzo making her turn back to them and pay attention. 

“ Give us the note.” He says, his eyes were a tad bit crazy. She shakes her head and places the cup on a table. Sometimes her friends scared her, not for the reason many people thought. Looking closely at all of them. They all had the same look in their eyes. 

She gets up and swiftly moves to stand behind a sofa, making sure there is some barrier between her and them.

“Sunshine, give us the note,” he repeats extending his hand to her. She just takes a B-line to the door. A crashing sound behind her made her clutch to the note in her hand. A few steps before the door Mattheo appears and blocks her way. She knew better than to start backing up so she turned and made her way to the glass door that seemed to be leading outside. She however could never outrun 5 boys in their prime, no.

A decision was made right then and there. When she can feel Draco catching up to her, she ducks—Draco completely misses her and runs into the glass door. She however was already running to the fireplace. She was a few steps from it when Lorenzo jumped out of nowhere and tackled her on the floor. Making sure to turn them around so he sounded her fall. The note slips from her grip. The two groan on impact.

“Bro that was unnecessary.” She whines and rolls at her friend. Sitting her to him while he lies on the floor with a smile.

“Yeah, but I got the note…” He says and looks in the direction the note has fallen. His smile drops when he sees it. The note has landed in the fire just as the girl intended to. The sides curled and ashy, there was no saving it. A victorious cheer leaves the girl, while others groan in frustration.

Looking around the scene, some pillows were thrown on the ground. One chair was flipped over and was lying on its side. Draco was holding his nose as Blasie helped him up. Something told the girl his father won't be hearing about this one. Overall it looked like someone casted Bombarda in the middle of the room.

Turning to the friend next to her, making sure he's okay. He just waves his arm at her and jumps up. Before helping her up. In the meanwhile, the rest have sat down in their previous spots. Mattheo flicked his wand to clean the room up a bit. 

Silence sat among the friends. A new batch of tea was made, and they all tried to figure out what just happened. The only sound in the room was the fire cracking, the remains of the note still visible. It's Blaise who breaks the silence.

“Um, that was…” He swallows the rest of his thought, opting to just nod his head.

“Man, we should have read it together, just aloud.” Says Theodor, pulling out his cigarette and offering it to anyone willing to take one. Nods and hums of agreement were heard from the boys.

“You know, the girl that gave it to me was very cryptic.” She says sipping on her tea and swapping the smoke away occasionally. Their ears perked up but they were still licking their wounds to pay proper attention.

“ She said, and I quote. ‘ You know who’ and winked before running away.” She pauses to take a sip before continuing. “ I think she wanted me to give it to the one I thought was the cutest” Lost in her thoughts, her gaze remained on ashes. She did not even notice that the chatter stopped.

Silence from the boys. Until.

“Well, who do think it's the cutest?” She just sighs at the question. Here we go again.

notes to deliver: 364

Tag list: @daisiesformylove, @klimovatereza-blog , @lafrone , @enfppixie , @rafegfs , @frogtape , @lovelyygirl8

[teddypickrwritings]

A Rare Moment of Weakness - Identity V x Reader

A/N: Some character lore is just so sad and depressing that I start tearing up…I just want to hug them. I’ll most likely do this with more characters in the future!

cw: PTSD

Mercenary

It was obvious just by looking at him that Naib Subedar was hardened by war. That was just the norm for anyone who served in the military. Naib was not one to talk about his experiences, though. Nobody questioned him, they just let him do what he wanted.

One day, while you were in a match with him, you saw his stoic mask crumble. You had managed to escape from the hunter with minor injuries and were hoping that you would cross paths with someone that could heal you. You had stumbled onto Naib’s cipher just as he missed a calibration and it shocked him—literally. The look of terror that flashed on his face gutted you pretty badly. It didn’t take a genius to realize that the sudden loud noise reminded him of bombs and such.

He wasn’t embarrassed that you saw him mess up. He didn’t shrug you off when you instinctively gave him a hug. In fact…he really appreciated it. A lot. Naib held you for a little longer than necessary, only letting go when he realized you were injured and immediately started to heal you.

“I’ll decode with you…or I can do it for you, if you’d like,” you offered once he was done.

Naib nodded slowly, a hint of a smile on his lips. “Thank you, (Y/N),” he mumbled.

Wu Chang

A sudden rainstorm had interrupted your walk and completely soaked you to the bone. Had you stayed outside longer, and if Xie had not come to your rescue, you would have certainly gotten sick. He had immediately left to find you the second the rain had turned heavy. You had begun to protest when he scooped you up in his arms, but quickly silenced yourself when you noticed just how worried he looked.

“(Y/N), I am so sorry. We shouldn’t have left you alone out there,” Xie said once you had changed into dry clothes. He had managed to calm down for the most part, but his voice was still laced with anxiety. “We didn’t know it would rain. I’ll never forgive myself if you get sick…”

“I’m okay!” you reassured with a tired smile. You reached over and gently squeezed his hand. “Thank you for getting me out of there before it got too bad.”

Xie gave a weak smile of his own, but his eyes still looked pained. He paused, seemingly listening to something. Then he nodded and his form changed to represent Fan. The Black Guard checked your vitals, and after confirming that they were normal, held your hands tightly. “He wanted to be able to save a loved one this time,” he explained. And that was all you needed to hear for you to understand.

Hermit

“Alva, do you ever feel frustrated?” you asked tentatively, watching the inventor writing notes in one of his many journals. His quill came to a slow stop as he pondered your question.

“It is natural for one to feel frustration,” Alva said vaguely. He turned in his chair to look at you with an unreadable expression. “Why do you ask?”

“I was just curious…you always seem so composed. I admire it,” you admitted.

Alva allowed a small smile on his face. “Nobody is ever what they seem, (Y/N). Keep that in mind,” he said, beckoning you over with a little wave of his hand. You stood up and went to him, surprised when he enveloped you in a hug. “I am sorry that I do not show emotions very often. I am…still getting used to the feeling by having someone I can trust.”

You could’ve sworn you felt him tremble a bit when he said that. But the moment was over too soon and he released you. “You have a match, yes? You shouldn’t be late,” he said and gave you a little push towards the door. You left with a smile on your face; Alva trusted you. That was all you could think about.

[imrkos]

FREAKING OUT THE NEIGHBORHOOD?! — Rafe Cameron & JJ Maybank.

THE PROLOGUE : VELVETWAVES

SYNOPSIS As a new year begins you’ve decided to rebel against the norms of your very well established title “Ms.Perfectionist” and create the band VelvetWaves with your fellow friends, and it seems like you’ve attracted both the eyes of your fellow kook’s and the pouge’s, especially those of Rafe Cameron, your sister and brothers bestfriend and JJ Maybank, the guy you’ve heard a lot about from your bestfriend and fellow bandmate Cleo.

WORD COUNT 2,482

WARNING! : this chapter contains mentions of somebody taking their life & readers depression so read this with caution if the topic is something you wouldn’t like to read or hear of!

You lied. You weren’t sure if Ryder was even conscious enough to drive you and Cleo home, hell you didn’t even know where Cleo was. You guys came together for a gig you guys booked and it was the highest amount you guys have been paid thus far. It was for a birthday or something, you weren’t sure.

You try scanning through the crowd of people for a sign of your friends' presence, you guys had just gotten done performing and were offered free drinks and to Cleo’s and Kai’s dismay Jace and Ryder suggested staying a bit longer.

You take a look behind you and notice a familiar face ���Topper!”

Topper Thornton. A friend of your siblings, a close friend even, your siblings are twins so they basically have the same friends and although your sister Riley had a thing with Topper back in freshman year it seems like they stayed cool with each other. He’s nice, at least to you.

“Hey rockstar, you done cosplaying as one of…them” He says with a slightly disgusted tone “Yeah very funny Top, Do you happen to know where ‘one of them’ is?” He looks around “I mean I saw Kai or whatever his name is, he seemed bored, don’t know where he went” You sigh

“Hey, can you do me a favor or something?” He raises an eyebrow “Can you drop me off at home..” He stares at you “Please” He lets out a deep breath “C’mon, let’s go before Ruthie tries to find me or something” You chuckle as you guys make your way outside

“What’s up with you guys? She’s usually by your side or nearby” he shrugs “I don’t even know at this point, it’s like we’re good and then she does something to piss me off and expects me to apologize-“ He suddenly stops walking causing you to almost lose your balance “Oh hey man” he says dapping Rafe up.

Rafe Cameron. To be completely honest you don’t even know much about him, at least not anymore.

“Hey.” hey was all he could say to you and all you could say back was “Hey.”

There was an awkward moment of silence yet you both knew exactly what the other was thinking.“I hate you” was the last thing he said to you last summer yet he kept contacting you and then the messages stopped.

“Uh, y’know I was just taking her home but I’ll be back so uh see you later man” Topper says breaking the silence, thank god. Rafe nods brow’s furrowed “Hey Y/n” you turn around at the mention of your name “You guys did great.” he says before leaving.

You scoff “You guys did great.” you mock him as Topper tries fighting back a laugh “So you guys haven’t spoken?” He questioned, you looked over at him as he opened the car door for you, and he noticed the slight frown on your face and the way you were now playing with your bracelets “I'll take that as a no”

He starts the car and for a moment there’s nothing but silence. You notice him looking at you from time to time when you guys reach red lights and stop signs, his phone buzzes constantly probably Ruthie or something, you look over at him and he finally speaks,

“He’s gone sober y’know” he also got a new girlfriend you think to yourself but you stay silent. “It’s crazy because he did a complete 360, I mean he’s a douche at times but shit he’s like a changed man”

Silence.

“I don’t mean to bring him up to upset you, I surprisingly like you“ you roll your eyes at his attempt at being nice “-and he’s one of my best friends after all but he can be a hot head and can’t admit his wrongs and-“

“He did apologize.” Topper opens his mouth to speak but he decides not to say anything. “He actually blew my phone up, that same night that..” you pause “My-“ “Yeah I know,” he says “But then you left for NewYork and showed up again all new and improved” he laughs “I like this little rockstar era of yours it’s quite different, don’t get why you're with those pogues but it’s nice to see you good again.” you look over at him as he parks the car in front of your house.

“Top” “Yes?”

“Is he happy? with her?”

Topper hesitates, he looks out the window rather than looking at you, his hand gripping the wheel “He seems happy. I can’t necessarily say it’s all because of her but she’s- she’s good for him I guess.” You nod eyes now glossy

“You wrote that song of yours about him, right? The one that’s all over the radios?”

You nod “It’s a great song Y/n, he likes it too.” you caress your hand as he unlocks the car “Get some rest alright? And tell your brother he needs to answer my texts faster, I’m not one of his bitches” you both laugh “Thank you.”

“Goodnight!” he yells out from the window “Goodnight” you yell back.

As soon as you enter the house you're faced with your brother's annoyed face, his eyes droopy and slightly red, his lips parted slightly as he was going to say something but he takes notice of your slightly heavy breathing, his face drops “Hey, what’s wrong?”

You don’t say anything, you can’t say anything. It’s not that you don’t want to, you really can’t let any words out.

“Topper dropped me off” you finally managed to let out after a few minutes “What'd he do?! I swear that prick is an idiot-“ “No! I-It’s not anything he did, I just-“ you take a deep breath “Just forget about it” you dismissed, heading towards the stairs, you took notice of how he didn't follow like he usually did.

You quickly undress and step into the shower, the hot water finally hitting your face.

Your dad would always compare you to himself. He would say that he would also take showers to think, sometimes he just needed to get away from everything, even your mom. You always admired the way he could give great advice and slide in a joke here and there. He always knew when you needed somebody, something, someone, and he was always somebody, something, someone.

He passed before your junior year of High School. It was midsummer and you noticed he was gone and by the time you found him, it was too late. You didn’t scream, you didn’t walk towards him, you couldn’t move.

──⋆

“DAD!” you hear Quinn scream, “Oh my god! Oh my god! D-Dad!” he screeched “Y/n! What the fuck happened?! O-Oh my god!” he looked over at you standing still while he kneeled next to your dead father.

He screams your name again, his eyes all watery, you doubt he could properly even see you “Y-Y/n I need you t-to tell me!” his voice cracked and his face all doleful “Please” his hand shaking gripping onto your dad's suit.

Soon enough your sister, Riley arrived, and then your mom.

Gosh, It broke your heart hearing her scream, your sister right beside her looking towards you as her twin cries into your dad's lifeless body.

Guilt.

Guilt, guilt, guilt.

It was all you could feel. Maybe if you hadn’t argued with him that night you would’ve been right by his side. Maybe if you hadn’t told him you hated him, he’d be downstairs watching football. Maybe just maybe you’d still have your best friend.

──⋆

After your dad’s funeral, you ended up finding his guitar collection. He never let you touch his instruments, he’d say that you would have a chance to keep all of it one day. You didn’t know it then but he had been planning that day to come sooner than expected.

You never found a note. And you resented him for it. You would spend day after day thinking that you may have triggered him into doing what he did and you still think that from time to time. Your mom tried to explain it wasn’t your fault but you could tell she couldn’t see you the same way.

She didn't know why she felt the way she did about you. Maybe you reminded her too much of your father. Maybe deep down she thought you had something to do with his death. Yet she always reminded you that you were her daughter and that she loved you.

Your dad left a will for you guys, money divided for all of you once you all turned of age. His famous car collection went to Quinn as he knew that Quinn would always sneak out and borrow them from time to time, The beach house that Riley loved so much would go to her, and you would have the honor of having his instruments.

You never once entered the music room without his permission and the fact that you were now allowed to go in without him by your side made you wonder what he would’ve said if he had been there when you first unlocked the door.

Your dad’s companies immediately went to your mom, she had decided that it was too soon to give the business over to Quinn and Riley and they agreed they’d take over once they felt ready.

──⋆

The band came about when your mom held a small get-together to celebrate your dad's legacy.

You had met Cleo shortly after your dad's passing, you were at the beach and it was like your dad sent a guardian angel to you. She knew how to uplift you and came over almost every day after that. You never really asked about where she stayed as she would often avoid the question but she had told you that she met her boyfriend and his friends and would often hang out with them. Your mom enjoyed her company and your sister surprisingly did too, Quinn didn’t care much but they all saw how much she helped you with coming to terms with his death.

Jace was always around figure eight. You never knew what a pogue was doing around the area, especially because you’d never see him with anyone. You ended up bumping into him a couple of times. He always apologized with a slight bow and walked away before you could say anything and one random day you finally got to say something faster than he could apologize “You seem to really like bumping into me” and ever since that day you guys kind of just clicked. He was a great listener and a great writer. You found out he would come to Figure Eight to hook up with Sidney Florence, some kook girl you’d always see at school, she was quiet and charming but she didn’t like being seen with him.

Ryder Beckett. He worked for your dad and you grew up with him and his dad coming over to help with some yard work. You guys often played while his dad did whatever he needed to get done at the house. Once y’all grew up he decided to start working for your dad, and you didn’t mind cause you would often chat while he did yard work once in a while you’d invite Jace and you’d all just talk and help him out. One thing about him is that he knows how to charm people, probably the nicest guy you’ve ever met. You always say that he’s too nice for his own good and he’d only say that he couldn’t help it. You often helped him out and added a bit more money to his paycheck, he would insist that the money he was making was enough but you knew he needed it for his mom. You always have had a soft spot for him.

You often heard of Kai as he was always in trouble with the law. The first time you met him was when you were at school, well you were skipping class with some friends and somehow you guys ended up at the beach, one of the girls had asked if you would accompany her to the bathroom and you guys ended up at a small antique store as you waited you spotted him hiding under a table and accidentally laughed a little too loud causing his attention to direct towards you “Trying to blow my cover?” was what he said before getting discovered by the store manager who kicked him out. After you guys got out the front door he happened to be waiting right there for you “You owe me a drink.” And that one drink turned into you, Jace, and Ryder hanging out at your place and soon enough it was all five of you.

Jace wrote and produced your music, he also knew how to sing, Cleo knew how to play the keyboard, Ryder played both electric and acoustic guitar but stuck to the acoustic, Kai did a bit of everything but stuck with drums, and you were convinced by Jace to sing alongside him and you often used the electric guitar.

Cleo had come up with the name VelvetWaves due to the fact y’all were eating the red velvet cake by the beach. You guys laughed at the name at first but it stuck.

You guys worked on music that whole summer not once leaving the room and Jace insisted on capturing every single moment on camera. You think it was the first time you were able to relax and have genuine fun for the first time in a while but that didn’t last long.

Your mom had decided that you would benefit from going to New York and staying with your aunt for your Junior year. You didn’t have much of a choice to stay so you left for that school year.

The band decided to release music although you were apart from them and it caught some attraction from not only people in the Obx but some people from outside the state.

You didn’t know it then but even the person you had dumped and ghosted was tuning into the music. He smiled at the thought of you finally pursuing your dreams and the world seeing your talent. He felt hurt that you left without letting him properly say goodbye but he knew it was for the best.

The day you returned from New York you guys released your biggest song yet and it was most obviously about that special someone. He knew, your siblings knew, your other friends knew, and even his new girlfriend knew.

And soon enough you’d bump into the other guy that was tuning into your music. The guy who seems to have always been attracted to you yet never found the courage to go up to you

VELVETWAVES OFFICAL

MASTERLIST CHAPTER ONE

Hello! Hope you guys enjoyed this, I’m not entirely comfortable when writing so it might be mid but hey! womp womp

[guhamun]

@caemthe said (inbox):

When he heard that the Ghost Hounds' base was affected during a TD outbreak, he didn't have to think it twice before discussing the matter with administration and then sending two vehicles full of food rations and medics to the location to tend to the injured. He obviously went as well. The Ghost Hounds had been a great aid to the Midnight Rangers, especially with the more frequent TD attacks. If not for them, perhaps there would be more families going to Knell Square to pay their respects. So, even though the mercenary group affiliation to Jinzhou is a temporary one, it's near impossible to not see them as part of the city, just like all other citizens. "You'll have to forgive me for the delay, I came as soon as I was informed of the situation," was the first thing the general said upon arriving. He looked around, glad that the crisis was under control now, but there still was much that needed to be done. "You look close to overclocking, please take a seat, so I can treat you."

THE SITUATION AT THE base was now firmly under control, although the groans of pain from the wounded still lingered all the same. TD outbreaks came out of nowhere, and despite how he and his people were well used to situations like this considering these were a norm where they came from, one could never completely prepare for them when they did transpire. ❝Status report,❞ he spoke to one of his medics, gaze cold and tone just as frigid, nevertheless the older man was not the least bit deterred by this. Rather, they made to pull bloodied gloves from their hands, tossing them in a nearby wastebin before speaking.

     ❝There were a few casualties, but the death count is rather low.❞

     ❝How many?❞

     ❝Ten.❞

     Ten was still too many in his opinion, even if ten was indeed a low number from a logistical standpoint. Still, how unfortunate it all was. He said nothing, eyes narrowing slightly as he gazed upon the agonized breathing of one of his Ghost Hounds. The medicine they were given hadn’t settled yet, granted that he knew eventually they would either pass out from the pain or because those pills were quickly working through their system. There weren’t enough medics to tend to everyone’s hurts, but no doubt word had reached the Jinzhou about the situation. For all he knew, they were already on their way here. Turning away, he had just stepped out of the medical ward when the approach of vehicles caught his full attention. He need but offer a single glance at them to know where they were from. Though he shouldn’t be surprised to see that assistance had arrived, at the same time, he couldn’t help but feel this all the same.

     Mercenaries were disposable bodies. This was a cold truth they all knew. If any of  them died out there on a battlefield, they’d just be another corpse for the vultures. As such, aid like this was…peculiar to him. Why waste resources on outsiders that were merely hired hands? That was a question he would have asked himself had he still been new to how things worked around here. However, after staying within Jinzhou for as long as he had, he had come to learn that the people were just…like…this.

     It made no sense, really.

     Jiyan, even more so.

     ❝Your arrival is appreciated. My medics are a bit overworked at the moment, so they would be glad for the offered help.❞ His gaze slid from the General to the trucks, watching as food and supplies were already being unloaded with a speed he found rather impressive. Jiyan’s voice tugged his attention back before it lingered elsewhere for too long, his expression unreadable as he met with that unwavering gaze before a small, quiet sigh managed to slip from him. This was wholly unnecessary considering he has been on the brink many a time, but he knew there was little point in attempting to shoo the other away when he knew they would only stand firmer. Thus, without another word, he made his way over to a crate, taking a seat as was asked of him.

[gardenladysworld]

Starbound hearts

Status: I'm working on it

Pairings: Neteyam x human!f!reader

Aged up characters!

Genre/Warnings: fluff, slow burn, oblivious characters, light angst, hurt/comfort, pining

Summary: In the breathtaking, untamed beauty of Pandora, two souls from different worlds find themselves drawn together against all odds. Neteyam, the dutiful future olo'eyktan of the Omaticaya clan, is bound by the expectations of his people and the traditions of his ancestors. She, a human scientist with a love for Pandora’s wonders, sees herself as an outsider, unworthy of the connection she craves.

Tags: @nerdylawyerbanditprofessor-blog, @ratchetprime211, @poppyseed1031

Part 7: To long

Part 8: To chat

The room was quiet, save for the faint hum of the outpost’s systems and the occasional beep from a monitor in the distance. You lay in bed, freshly showered, your hair still damp against the pillow. The lights were dim, just enough to cast faint shadows on the walls, but your mind was far from at rest. Sleep refused to come; your thoughts anchored back in the clearing.

You stared at the ceiling, your chest rising and falling in the steady rhythm of someone trying to will themselves into relaxation. But your heart had other plans. It kept pulling you back to him—to Neteyam. His golden eyes, always so sharp and intense, had a way of looking right through you. And when they softened, when they focused entirely on you, it was like the rest of the world didn’t exist.

Your lips pressed together in a faint, self-deprecating smile. You were an idiot, weren’t you? Falling for someone so completely out of reach. You’d told yourself it was impossible, that whatever you felt was just admiration or gratitude for his kindness. But it wasn’t. It hadn’t been for a long time. You loved him. More than you had any right to.

And that was the crux of it. You had no right to feel this way. Neteyam was Na’vi—a future olo’eyktan, no less. He belonged to a people whose traditions you couldn’t fully understand, whose world you were merely a guest in. A guest who couldn’t even breathe the air without a mask. You laughed softly, the sound bitter. How could you even entertain the idea of belonging here, let alone by his side?

Na’vi mated for life. That thought twisted something deep inside you. Mating wasn’t just a bond to them—it was sacred, something blessed by Eywa herself. And you? You weren’t Na’vi. You weren’t even like Jake Sully, who had become one of them through Eywa’s grace. You were just a human, stuck in a fragile body on a planet that could reject you at any moment.

Your hand drifted to your chest, fingers brushing over the fabric of your shirt as if you could somehow calm the ache there. You’d left Earth nine years ago, trading the polluted skies and dying ecosystems for the chance to study the beauty of Pandora. Six years in cryosleep and three years of working for the RDA. At the first year, the science had been enough. You were fascinated by Pandora’s ecosystems, the intricacies of its interconnected life. But that wonder had slowly been eclipsed by something else.

When you first arrived at the village with Norm and Max, the Na’vi had been wary of you. Understandable, really. You were a new face, an outsider. But over the last 2 years, things had shifted. You’d become close to a few of them—especially the Sully family. Kiri’s sharp wit, Tuk’s boundless enthusiasm, and Lo’ak’s constant teasing had become fixtures in your life. Jake trusted you. He considered you a friend, just like Norm and Max. Even Neytiri, who still watched you with quiet reservation, no longer bristled when you were near.

And then there was Neteyam.

You closed your eyes, as if that could block out the image of him. But it didn’t. His face was burned into your mind—those piercing golden eyes, his smooth blue skin marked with faint bioluminescent patterns, the sharp line of his jaw. His ears betrayed him constantly, flicking with emotion he probably thought he was hiding. His tail too, swaying or twitching in ways you’d come to recognize. Every movement was a language of its own, and you found yourself obsessed with understanding it.

He was so different from you, yet you couldn’t help but love him. You didn’t even know when it had started—when admiration had turned into affection, when affection had turned into longing. But it was there, undeniable and all-consuming.

You sighed, rolling onto your side. You tried to think about something else—anything else. Ethan’s smug face popped into your mind, and you grimaced. Of course, you’d dealt with men like him before. Men who thought they had a right to your attention, who didn’t take a polite smile as a no. He was irritating, sure, but compared to some of the creeps back on Earth, he was almost laughable.

Still, it wasn’t Ethan that lingered in your thoughts. It was the way Neteyam had looked at you, the protective edge in his voice when he’d spoken to Ethan, the unspoken promise in his golden eyes when he asked if you were all right. It was the way he crouched beside you, his massive frame somehow comforting rather than intimidating. It was the way his presence made you feel... safe.

And that was dangerous. Because safety made you want more. It made you imagine things you had no business imagining. Things like a life where you weren’t just a human in a strange world, where you weren’t someone who could be sent back to Earth on a whim if the RDA decided you weren’t useful anymore. Things like a life where you weren’t just a guest in his world but a part of it.

But that wasn’t your reality. Your reality was this: You were a scientist, working on Pandora to collect data and hopefully secure enough money to live comfortably on Earth when you went back. That was the deal. That had always been the deal.

So why did it feel like your heart had other plans?

Your hand tightened briefly in the sheets before you released a slow breath. No matter what you felt, no matter how much you wished things could be different, you couldn’t change who you were. And you couldn’t ask him to change who he was. All you could do was cherish the time you had with him, however fleeting it might be.

Despite it all, your heart refused to let go. I love him more than I should, you admitted silently. I can’t help how I feel. The rational part of your mind screamed at you to stay away, to protect yourself from the inevitable heartbreak that came with such forbidden love. But every glance, every shared moment, only deepened the connection, making it harder to deny.

The night stretched on, each passing minute a testament to the silent battles you fought within yourself. The forest outside was alive with sounds, but inside, all you could hear was the echo of your own heart, yearning for a love that defied the boundaries of two worlds.

The canteen was alive with the usual morning bustle—scientists exchanging chatter over coffee, the hum of machinery filtering in from the adjacent labs, and the clinking of utensils against plates. You sat in your usual spot near the corner, staring blankly at the plate in front of you. Ham and eggs, your usual breakfast, but today it felt like it might as well have been rocks and dirt. You poked at the eggs half-heartedly, your mind elsewhere.

The night hadn’t been kind. Sleep had eluded you, leaving you restless and tangled in thoughts you didn’t want to admit out loud. Every time you’d closed your eyes, you’d found yourself back in the clearing, replaying Neteyam’s gaze, his voice, the way he crouched beside you like you were the centre of his universe. It was infuriating, how much space he occupied in your head.

Around you, the morning buzz of the outpost continued unabated. Scientists and technicians moved in and out, some chatting animatedly, others immersed in datapads and tablets. The smell of coffee and breakfast lingered in the air, but none of it seemed to penetrate the fog in your mind.

You startled slightly when someone plopped down onto the bench beside you, the metal creaking under their weight. Turning, you saw Kate from the xenobotany team, her curly blonde hair pulled back into a messy ponytail, and her green uniform jacket unzipped over a tank top. She squinted at you with her bright blue eyes, her freckled nose wrinkling slightly as she gave you a once-over.

“Wow,” Kate said, resting her elbow on the table and propping her chin on her hand. “You look like you wrestled a thanator and lost.”

You sighed, leaning back in your chair. “Thanks, Kate. Always a confidence booster.”

Kate tilted her head, narrowing her eyes. “Seriously, what’s going on? You look exhausted.”

You hesitated, debating how much you should tell her. Kate was your friend, one of the few people in the outpost who really got you, but even so, how could you explain the knot of emotions twisting inside you without sounding ridiculous?

“It’s nothing,” you said after a moment, poking at your eggs again. “Just couldn’t sleep.”

Kate snorted. “Yeah, no kidding. You’re quieter than usual, which is saying something. Usually, I can’t shut you up about plants or... I don’t know, the latest drama at the Omatikaya.”

You winced slightly at the mention of the village but tried to play it off. “It’s... complicated,” you finally said, your voice low. “I’ve just been thinking about a lot of stuff.”

“Stuff,” Kate echoed, her brow furrowing. “Like Pandora stuff? Earth stuff? Or”—her smirk returned—“someone stuff?”

Your cheeks flushed, and Kate’s eyes widened. “Oh my God. It’s someone, isn’t it?” She grinned, setting her coffee down with a dramatic flourish. “You’re going to tell me everything.”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Kate, it’s not... It’s not like that.”

“Oh, it’s exactly like that,” she said, nudging your arm. “Come on. I won’t tell anyone. Who is it? Someone from the team? Max? Norm? Ethan?” She shuddered at the last name. “Please don’t say Ethan.”

“Of course not Ethan!” you exclaimed, glaring at her. “He’s annoying, yeah, but he’s not why I look like a walking corpse.”

Kate tilted her head, her expression skeptical but curious. “So what is it, then? Because you’ve got that look—you know, the one where you’re thinking way too much and probably overcomplicating everything.”

You hesitated, your fork idly scraping against the plate. “It’s nothing, really. Just... thoughts.”

“Thoughts,” Kate repeated, leaning closer as she narrowed her eyes. “Uh-huh. And these ‘thoughts’ have you staring at your food like it personally offended you? Sure, totally normal.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, the sound more genuine than you expected. “I’m fine, Kate. Just tired, that’s all.”

“Good,” she said, standing up and grabbing your tray. “Come on. You’re spending the day with me.”

“What? Why?” you asked, blinking in surprise.

“Because you clearly need a distraction,” she said matter-of-factly. “And because I need help finishing the final report for our xenobotany project. You’ve got a sharp eye, and I could use the company.”

You hesitated, glancing at the tray in her hands. “Kate, you don’t have to—”

“Yeah, yeah, I don’t have to. But I’m doing it anyway.” She gave you a pointed look. “You’re welcome.”

Despite yourself, you smiled, warmth spreading through your chest. “Fine. But don’t complain when I point out all the mistakes in your data.”

Kate smirked. “Bring it on, plant nerd.”

The lab buzzed quietly with activity, a steady hum of equipment and the occasional beep from monitors filling the air. You sat at one of the workstations, your gloved hands carefully sorting through a tray of samples while Kate worked beside you, her own focus split between her tablet and the conversation you were having.

“So,” Kate began, glancing at you over her screen, “remember the time back on Earth when the RDA made us do that ridiculous safety training for zero-gravity environments? You know, just in case we somehow ended up floating in space like lost balloons?”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Don’t remind me. That one guy couldn’t even handle the harness without freaking out.”

Kate snorted. “Oh, yeah. He passed out after, what, five minutes? Meanwhile, you and I were doing somersaults and pretending to be astronauts.”

“That training was pointless,” you said with a grin, placing one of the samples into a storage container. “They spent more time teaching us how to pose for PR photos than anything actually useful.”

Kate leaned back in her chair, tapping her pen against her tablet. “Classic RDA. Always more concerned with appearances than practicality. Like that time they made us wear those awful orange vests for lab safety. Because, you know, glowing like traffic cones is totally helpful in a controlled environment.”

“Or when they made us document every single piece of equipment we touched for a week,” you added, rolling your eyes. “Including the pens.”

Kate groaned dramatically. “Don’t remind me. I think I filed fifty reports on just the clipboard.”

“Oh, and remember that time on Earth,” Kate said suddenly, breaking the silence, “when they made us go through those absurd safety drills for ‘Pandoran conditions’? Like, as if any of us would actually outrun a viperwolf.”

You snorted, setting down a petri dish. “Oh, yeah. And they had that guy in the thanator suit chasing us around like it was some weird theme park attraction. What was his name again? Ted?”

“Steve,” Kate corrected with a grin. “And he took it way too seriously. He growled at me when I tripped over a cone.”

“I swear they just wanted to scare us into signing waivers,” you said, shaking your head with a laugh. “Like, ‘Hey, Pandora’s dangerous, but don’t worry, you’ll be fine if you duck and cover.’”

Kate chuckled, leaning back in her chair. “Yeah, because that’s going to stop a banshee from snatching you out of the air.” We looked the moss almost for a minute before Kate broke the silence again. “Do you ever think about Earth?” she asked, her voice casual as she held up an another sample of bioluminescent moss, her pen tapping against her chin.

“Sometimes,” you replied, glancing up briefly. “But not often. There wasn’t much to miss when I left.”

Kate chuckled softly. “Yeah, I get that. Remember the air quality reports? ‘Moderately breathable.’ Like, what the hell does that even mean?”

You laughed lightly, shaking your head. “It means, ‘Congratulations, you might not die if you step outside, but don’t take deep breaths.’”

Kate snorted, setting down the sample. “And don’t forget the food shortages. ‘Synthetic protein blend, enriched for maximum efficiency!’ Translation: tastes like chalk.”

“Hey, at least it was efficient,” you teased, smirking.

“Efficiently disgusting,” Kate shot back, rolling her eyes. “Honestly, I don’t know why I didn’t sign up for Pandora sooner. Even with all the RDA bullshit, this place is a dream compared to Earth.”

Your gaze shifted to the vibrant green sample in your hands. “Yeah,” you murmured. “It’s strange, isn’t it? How we traded a dying world for one we barely understand.”

Kate nodded, leaning back in her chair. “And the RDA still finds a way to screw it up. Did you know they once sent us a manual on how to handle ‘aggressive plants’? As if we’re supposed to, what, reason with them?”

“‘Please stop trying to eat me,’” you quoted mock-seriously, holding up a hand as if addressing the moss. “‘I’m just here for science.’”

Kate burst out laughing, the sound echoing through the lab. “Exactly! And don’t even get me started on their idea of ‘adequate safety measures.’ They send us out into the jungle with flimsy exo-masks and hope for the best.”

“At least they gave us guns,” you joked, though the humor in your voice was faint. The reality of the danger outside the lab was never far from your thoughts.

“True,” Kate said, sobering slightly. She studied you for a moment before leaning forward, resting her elbows on the table

The two of you fell into an easy rhythm, joking about the absurdity of RDA protocols and the bizarre training sessions you’d both endured. It felt good to laugh, to let the weight of the previous night’s thoughts slip away, even if only for a little while.

“Pandora’s quirks still surprise me, though,” Kate said after a moment, her tone shifting slightly. “Like that moss I found last week? The one that glows when it rains? How does that even make sense?”

“It’s Pandora,” you said with a shrug. “Half the stuff here doesn’t make sense. Like those plants that snap shut when you touch them.”

Kate grinned. “Oh, the ‘angry flowers’? Yeah, I love those. They’re like, ‘Don’t mess with me, human.’ Honestly, I feel that on a spiritual level.”

The conversation shifted naturally, Kate recounted a time she’d accidentally spilled a sample of Pandora’s sticky, glowing sap on her hair and had to shave half her head. You retaliated with a story about a time Norm had tried to explain the mating habits of Pandora’s tree frogs and somehow turned the entire lab into a giggling mess.

“And then he just gave up and said, ‘Fine, laugh all you want. But when the tree frogs start singing, don’t come crying to me.’” You mimicked Norm’s exasperated tone, earning a burst of laughter from Kate.

“Classic Norm,” Kate said, wiping a tear from her eye. “Seriously, though, I don’t know how we’d survive without some humor around here. Pandora may be beautiful, but it’s weird as hell.”

“Tell me about it,” you agreed, glancing at a strange spiny plant specimen glowing faintly on the table. “Half the flora looks like it’s from a dream, and the other half looks like it’s trying to kill you.”

Kate nodded sagely. “Pandora: come for the views, stay for the constant existential terror.”

As the lab hummed softly with the steady rhythm of machines and the occasional hiss of a sterilizer. Kate was perched on a stool nearby, fiddling with a pipette and jotting notes on a datapad. The faint scent of disinfectant and freshly opened specimen containers lingered in the air, blending with the ever-present hum of the outpost’s systems.

“Remember that time back when I almost got fired for questioning the nutrient distribution protocols in the hydroponics bay?” Kate said suddenly, breaking the silence.

You snorted softly, glancing at her. “You mean when you called the lead technician a ‘glorified cucumber farmer’ in the middle of a board meeting?”

Kate grinned, leaning back against the counter. “Hey, I stand by it. That guy had no clue what he was doing. I saved that entire crop from dying because he didn’t account for pH fluctuations.”

“And nearly got yourself blacklisted in the process,” you added, shaking your head with a small smile. “I’m still amazed you managed to get a spot on the Pandora team after that.”

“Please,” Kate said with a dramatic wave of her hand. “The RDA needs people like me. They just don’t like admitting it.”

You chuckled, turning your attention back to the specimen under the microscope. The delicate, bioluminescent threads of a Pandoran moss glowed faintly, their intricate patterns mesmerizing. “Still,” you said after a moment, “Earth feels like another lifetime ago, doesn’t it?”

Kate nodded, her expression softening. “Yeah, it does. Sometimes I miss it. Not the pollution or the overcrowding, obviously. But, you know... the little things. Coffee that didn’t taste like it came from a machine. Real pizza.”

“City lights at night,” you added, a wistful smile tugging at your lips. “Even if they were so bright you couldn’t see the stars.”

Kate sighed. “Yeah. Though I guess Pandora’s kind of made up for that. I mean, who needs city lights when you’ve got an entire forest that glows?”

You nodded, your gaze drifting toward the window. The dense jungle beyond the glass felt like a world away, both breathtakingly beautiful and impossibly foreign. “It’s funny,” you said softly. “I came here thinking I’d leave Earth behind, start over. But sometimes it feels like the more I try to settle in, the more I realize I don’t belong here either.”

Kate’s eyes flicked to you, her brow furrowing slightly. “Okay, that sounded heavy. What’s going on with you?”

You hesitated, your hands stilling over the sample you were preparing. “Nothing,” you said quickly, but your tone betrayed you.

“Don’t give me that,” Kate said, setting her pipette down and crossing her arms. “I’ve known you long enough to know when something’s eating at you. Is it not Ethan, right? Because if it is, I’ll gladly lock him in the specimen freezer for a few hours.”

You laughed softly despite yourself, shaking your head. “No, it’s not Ethan. Well, not really. It’s just... everything.”

Kate tilted her head, her expression softening. “Talk to me.”

You took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. “It’s... hard to explain. I left Earth to get away from all of that—away from the dying planet, the endless corporate grind, the feeling of being stuck in a place that was falling apart. I thought Pandora would be different. And it is, in so many ways. But I still feel... out of place.”

Kate frowned slightly. “Out of place how?”

You nodded, your gaze lingering on the fern. “Yeah. I thought coming to Pandora would be like stepping into a dream. And it is, in a way. But... I don’t know. Some days it feels like I’m still on the outside, looking in.”

Kate glanced at you, her brow furrowing slightly. “What do you mean?”

You hesitated, shrugging as you carefully placed another sample onto the table. “Just... you know. Being human here. The masks, the protocols, the constant reminders that I don’t belong. It gets to you after a while.”

Kate studied you for a moment before leaning forward, resting her chin on her hand. “Okay, that’s not what’s really bugging you,” she said, her voice teasing but pointed. “So, what’s wrong?”

You hesitated, focusing on a data pad in front of you. “Nothing,” you said lightly, though you knew it didn’t sound convincing.

Kate leaned back, crossing her arms with a knowing look. “Oh, come on. Don’t give me that. The ’nothing’ has a name, doesn’t it?”

You froze for a fraction of a second, and Kate’s grin widened. “Or wait... is the ’nothing’ tall and blue?” Kate’s grin widened, and she nodded toward your wrist. “And he gave you that bracelet, didn’t he?”

Your eyes flicked to the simple band of beads and twine snug around your wrist, a soft heat rising to your cheeks. “I... It’s just a gift,” you said quickly, your voice a little too defensive.

Kate leaned in, resting her chin on her hand as she studied you. “Uh-huh. Sure. A casual gift from a Na’vi who just happens to hang around you more than anyone else.”

“It’s not like that,” you muttered, your fingers brushing over the bracelet unconsciously, heat crept up your neck, and you shook your head quickly. “No! It’s not... I mean—” You stumbled over your words, and Kate’s laughter burst out, full and unrestrained.

“Oh my god, it is! I knew it!” she said, her tone triumphant. “You’ve got it bad, don’t you? For one of the Sullys, no less. Neteyam, right?”

“Kate,” you hissed, glancing around to make sure no one was within earshot. “Keep your voice down!”

She only laughed harder, her grin wide as she leaned in closer. “Relax, no one’s listening. But seriously... Neteyam? I mean, I can’t blame you. He’s gorgeous, even if he’s... you know, not human.”

You buried your face in your hands, your cheeks burning. “It’s not like that.”

Kate raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really? Then why are you blushing so hard?”

“I’m not—” You groaned as you practically slammed your forehead against the table, you almost started praying for a hole to open in the ground and swallow you. “It’s complicated.”

Kate snorted. “Oh, please. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. And the way you look at him. You’re practically glowing right now, and it’s not because of the moss.”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Kate, stop.”

“Hey, I’m just saying,” she said, holding her hands up in mock surrender. “It’s kind of adorable. Forbidden romance on an alien planet—it’s like a holo-drama waiting to happen.”

You peeked at her through your fingers, torn between exasperation and amusement. “You’re impossible.”

“I know, but you love me for that.” Kate reached across the table, her hand resting briefly on yours. “Just... don’t shut yourself off from something good, okay? Even if it’s complicated. Especially if it’s complicated.”

You nodded slowly, your voice quiet as you replied, “Thanks, Kate.”

She smiled, leaning back in her chair and picking up another sample. “Anytime. Now, let’s finish this project before Norm comes in and lectures us about deadlines.”

As the two of you returned to work, Kate’s words lingered in your mind, a quiet echo against the backdrop of your thoughts. Complicated or not, you couldn’t deny what you felt—and maybe, just maybe, you didn’t want to.

Part 9: To see

[crooked-wasteland]

It's been so odd seeing Ghostf*ckers currently sitting at 7.9m views two weeks later despite the boost of Hazbin's launch and the other episodes not doing anywhere near as bad; anything you feel might've factored into it?

I've mentioned it before, but I am happy to explain my perspective again. I obviously don't have the complete picture in front of me, so it's really only a grain of salt. More of a thought experiment than anything else.

For starters, the spike in views following Hazbin was a predictable boom and bust situation. There is a give and take with different styles of streaming, specifically around the trickle or binge models. More people will watch a series that is available to be binged vs one that is still in progress. Like some people who wait for the entire season to drop before picking up a new show. These sorts of drops see huge initial views, but people stop talking about the shows much faster.

The overlap of cultural impact as well as financial success makes Binging content appealing to the finance people, but the real money comes from maintaining cultural relevance. Which is why binge releases are generally criticized, especially by artistic people.

On the flip side, episode by episode releases, especially those like webcomics and web series need to maintain a sense of consistency to retain an audience. There must be deadlines that are achieved relatively consistently. It's even more important for content that is hosted on algorithm-heavy platforms like YouTube. It's why most content creators have an upload schedule to maintain their algorithms and promote their channel being recommended.

This is especially important on social media platforms because, generally speaking, only 10% of your audience are actually subscribed. While YouTubers don't get paid based on their subscriber count, it's used similarly to viewership. A channel like Mr. Beast has deals with mainstream studios like Amazon because of his subscriber count, in junction with the number of views he accrues.

The 10% active subscriber count is actually seen as a general positive so long as your views stay around that number, because it means others are being recommended your channel outside of your base. Once you get stuck in your "base" you're waiting for that thing ice to finally break. It means no one is discovering you and your legitimately risk losing everything. Most often from stale content, people becoming bored or disillusioned with what a creator is creating. And having no fresh eyes on your content, you will disappear in the algorithm eventually. For some people it means they can still survive just fine doing the same old things, for others (usually those who see the money before the art) it means the loss of everything.

The issue with inconsistent uploads is a major one that Medrano actually beat in the first season. The Vivziepop channel was so infrequently uploaded on, episodes being posted essentially the moment they were done, and yet Medrano maintained 35 M - 50 M views an episode (until Ozzie's which topped out at 28M before Hazbin Hotel, Medrano's first attempt at writing for the series).

So what I mean to say with that information is Medrano actually succeeded against the odds for the first season. She should have faded into obscurity, but the support for her show was legitimate and beat the odds of an inconsistent uploads schedule. I was never subscribed to her channel and didn't have Twitter until this year, but I would search Vivziepop every 3-5 months and usually saw a new episode had been uploaded in the last week to a few hours prior.

So while this is anecdotal, I'd argue that it was the general norm at the time. Reaching 35M when you only have 8.6M subscribers necessitates genuine effort of the part of the watchers to seek out the content themselves. And that's a good thing. You want people to be motivated to seek out your content on their own volition.

With that said, it explains all the possible, and probably, issues being had.

1) Upload Fatigue

Since viewership has fallen, Medrano has been posting more frequently to her channel. Mostly low-effort Vlog content that her main base is legitimately not invested in. People who love musicals and Broadway would recognize the low quality musical fodder Medrano creates. Animation fans, meanwhile, are not interested in celebrity actors being friends with Medrano.

That sort of content is what you see on Adin Ross' channel. If you don't know who that is, think Andrew Tate, but somehow more pathetic. The TL;DR is that his claim to fame was playing a video game with LeBron James' son. That's not what most people are really interested in, unless they carry the same fundamental psychology of the 'Man-osphere" or conservative grifters.

Additionally, these videos don't hit that 10% subscriber base. With 10.4 million subs, her lowest performing videos should still hit at least 1.4million views. Her major sale videos (Halloween and Valentine's mainly) still see this proper 10%

But the Vlog videos...

It isn't surprising that the video focusing on the fans being seen with Medrano and her friends would be the most watched, because of this mindset of piggy-backing self-worth off of someone else's name.

So for the fans that actually like the show, or at least want to support the series, are now being hit with a ton of videos they don't care about. Which can and usually does result in a loss of subscribers or your subscribers turning off their notifications for your channel.

2) The Show Left it's Base

Hazbin being aired on Amazon introduced many people to Vivziepop. There is a sense of quality that one expects from a big name like Amazon, regardless of how most of their shows they directly fund are not that great. But with the series leaving it's base, it offers new fans while threatening, and definitely delivering, a complimentary spike in criticism. Many people who would have accepted a subpar web series are going to be far more harsh of a show with a studio behind it.

With more voices discussing the issues of the series, it teaches people how to identify sub-par content and a lot of those people will lose interest in it once they realize the show isn't actually quality.

There are far more videos discussing the issues with Hazbin than there are of Helluva Boss for this reason, but once the luster is removed from one, inevitably it will impact the other.

3) The Story Sucks

This is obvious as we see more fans becoming less enthusiastic about the story. A badly written show can and will still be loved by those who love it. But it has become more obvious that the writing isn't subversive, just negligent. The characters aren't complicated, they are puppets. The creators aren't creative, they are regurgitating tropes without substance. The emotions are hollow.

But worse than any of that is that the show is contradictory to itself. Which makes the show feel unreliable, but that leads to the last point:

4) Medrano Exposed Herself as an Unlikeable Person

Medrano's description for Apology Tour exposed her to her YouTube base. YouTube is a place that craves authenticity, to the point they have manufactured it. There is a right and wrong way to be on YouTube, and the right way requires a ton of accountability, even when you probably don't owe anyone it. But accountability is something you must have on the platform, and Medrano was a bit too personal in how she made excuses for Stolas while not playing an even hand towards her main character.

That sort of attitude, fictional or not, will result in people turning their back on you. People have lost their whole channels over the same attitude. And the way Medrano handled it was responding to her twitter fandom criticizing the show, letting everyone know she doesn't see anything wrong with the behavior being expressed.

And that doesn't really sit well on YouTube. Not in the communities she's trying to cater to.

And like I said, this is all with a grain of salt as I can't say for certain. To be safe I believe a little of all of these play a role in Medrano's decline, but all of it is just my opinion.

With that said, to see such a steep decline of almost 50% of your audience, while knowing that many of those who are still fans are viewing each episode about 1-2 times a day for about a week, that means 2 in every 5-7 views are the same person. So 8M, while respectable for the platform, is a huge blow.

[dinarosie]

Even if Snape's inner motivation for joining Voldemort was a desire for acceptance, control, power and belonging, surely to achieve that he must have harbored some toxic beliefs about muggles and muggleborns? I cannot imagine someone as intellectual as Snape would not try to justify the dislike for muggles and muggleborns of the other purebloods in his head? He probably thought muggleborns were lesser in some ways to purebloods and muggles were ruining the world or something. He couldn't rationalize Lily's hatred for the dark arts and people like Mulciber, therefore I think he held delusional and negative beliefs towards muggleborns and muggles because his mind distorted the truth to fit his selfish narrative. He was moving in pureblood circles, heared their opinions all the time I believe he started believing some of that stuff too even if he wasn't violent about it. He tried to appease Voldemort, strived to be his follower he must have internalized some of the anti muggleborn beliefs in order to do that. What do you think?

Prejudice in the wizarding world isn’t something exclusive to the Death Eaters or even to one specific time. It's woven deeply into magical society, and even after the Second Wizarding War, we don't see convincing evidence that these biases are completely eradicated. Throughout the books, we see that many characters even those like mcgonagall, Hagrid and Weasleys, who oppose Voldemort's ideology still display some prejudice toward Muggles and other magical beings. They may not condone Voldemort’s tactics, but for example they actively try to sever all ties with their Muggle relatives as if they don’t exist at all or they show amusement at using magic to fool Muggles (think Ron, teenage James and Sirius). This reflects a norm and heritage within wizarding culture, a subtle acceptance of superiority that has been passed down for generations. This societal undercurrent of prejudice was so pervasive that, in the early days of the First Wizarding War, many actually supported Voldemort’s rise, at least until his methods became excessively violent. If the prophecy hadn’t intervened, he might have won, showing how ingrained these biases were.

When it comes to Snape, I get frustrated with interpretations that try to paint him as some "mini-Nazi" from age nine. Looking at his childhood, it’s clear that young Snape didn’t have a love for the Muggle world—and honestly, can you blame him, considering the harsh, painful reality his family life created there? To him, magic was a ticket out, a lifeline. But what’s interesting is how he responds to Lily’s magic, a Muggle-born witch. Instead of seeing her as “lesser,” he immediately recognizes her as one of his own:

“You are,” said Snape to Lily. “You are a witch. I’ve been watching you for a while. But there’s nothing wrong with that. My mum’s one, and I’m a wizard.”

Here, he embraces her as part of the magical world. He doesn’t see her as an outsider; instead, he’s excited to introduce her to magical world and help her feel like she belongs. This moment shows that even from a young age, Snape saw her magic as normal and valid (natural and valid like him and his own mother), even if she was Muggle-born.

I think it’s reasonable to believe teenage Snape (like most of the wizarding world) had some biases, especially given the difficult conditions he grew up in and the House he was eventually sorted into. But I don’t think these biases were the main driving force behind his choices. His prejudices weren’t extreme enough to fuel violence against Muggles or Muggle-borns. There’s no evidence that he ever wanted to actively harm someone simply because of their heritage, even in his Death Eater days. So, while he likely absorbed some prejudices from the pureblood-dominated world he was in, it’s clear that these beliefs didn’t reach the fanatical level they did with the other Death Eaters. And as he matured, these biases seemed to fade even further, to the point where he ultimately sacrificed his life to protect people.

Part of the differences between Lily and Snape’s perspectives on the Dark Arts, I think, can be traced back to Hogwarts’s own black-and-white view on magical disciplines. In some wizarding cultures, Dark Arts are studied and understood as a form of complex magic, not inherently evil. Interestingly, these communities, despite their engagement with Dark Arts, don’t necessarily produce other Voldemorts, so perhaps the Dark Arts have legitimate applications beyond harm. This difference in perspective is, I think, part of why young Snape couldn’t fully grasp Lily’s rejection of Dark Arts. To him, the Dark Arts were an area of knowledge, filled with awe and potential power, rather than just danger and malice. He believed that by mastering these aspects, he might impress her. Rowling’s narrative makes sense this way; Snape wasn’t trying to seduce her with dark ideas, but rather to share something he found fascinating and intellectually rich, even if misguidedly so.

[astralcentralstation]

Worldbuilding H/C: Soulmates

So this will be just be the general head-canons about how the different cultures in HSR would be structures in a soulmate AU (alias how soulmates influenced laws and cultures), and how the playable characters view them. I will later add a image for each character. When we are induced to new cultures in the game i might add a part 2 to this.

Soulmates are general confirmed and accepted, nobody is really denying that they exist. But depending on who your soulmate is you might find stark differences in how they will view you and what is expected of you. For given that soulmates are confirmed for centuries, this knowledge shaped societies -some in culture, some even in law. Each planet has they own way of doing this.

Overall it is believed that the soulmate marks where blessing send out by the Aeons, a gift that all of them send out in junction. These soulmates have three parts; The first is Sign -a physical mark on the body -each match have a tattoo that both of them have since birth, absolute matching one-another in shape and placement. Second is Recognition -there is a instinctive bond between soulmates to protect and trust. Not enough to control once actions, but enough to sway the undecided. Hereby it doesn't matter if they even know their soulmate is involved -if for example a ship is in danger, and a soulmate has a match on that ship without knowing or any indications, the soulmate will lean towards protecting the ship. The last is different for each race; Protection will give what a match needs to stay together. If one soulmate ages slower than the other, their match will age normally till they reach the physical age of their soulmate, then have their aging slow down to the same space. If a soulmates race has a special ability like breathing under water or immunity to fire, then that will carry over.

In Belebog soulmates rarely found each other, what with the Eternal Freeze and later even with the ban between Under- and Overworld. Therefore people will be pretty open to marry somebody who is not their soulmate. That is if you haven't meet or have already lost their soulmate. If someone were to pursue someone else while their match is right next to them it would still turn some confused heads. But it isn't unheard of. Still, finding your match is considered special. The Landau Siblings, Gepard and Serval are a bit out the norm, wanting to wait for their soulmates. They haven't mentioned it to their parents, neither wanting to deal with the backlash and pressure to continue the family line -in fact they haven't even told each other. As for Bronya a romantic partner had not even been on the table till her soulmate shows up. From there on she feels lost, she doesn't want to let go of this possibility, but she also have no idea what to do with a soulmate. Others who would be blindsided by a match showing up where Natasha and Seele. Nat doesn't think she deserves a soulmate, her match has to convince her to give them a chance. Seele meanwhile had regarded finding a match as a fairy tale scenario, highly unlikely -even if she claimed to wait for them to stop her admirers. It was only a line, you know. Sampo is open-minded to finding a soulmate, but isn't searching or waiting. Pela used to believe she would find her soulmate and was ready to fight for that. Then she was sent to the frontlines of the Eternal Freeze and decided to give up and focus on reality.

(Characters: Gepard Serval Bronya Natasha Seele Sampo)

People of the Xianzhou Alliance are the complete opposite. They believe that matches are scared and married from birth. It is not only outlawed, but unthinkable to be with anyone outside the Bond. Soulmates are often refers to as Kindreds. Found matches will usually move together that very same day. Exceptions are made for kids, in which case they will have constantly alternating sleepovers. Xianzhou and Foxians share they longevity with they matches, while Vidyadhara share they reincarnation-cycle ability. One would think that make it easier to find their match, and really each ship has they citizens register their Signs and there is open communications to help everyone find their spouse. But there is also a danger in that; matches are thought to be one of mind. Which means if a crime is committed, both soulmates receive the sentence. So if your aging acts up be careful, you don't know what your soulmate was up to. 'You didn't know' will not hold in front of their laws. However if you are the soulmate of Jing Yuan, Fu Xuan or Yukong, it's up to school with you. As their Kindred you are considered their second in command and must learn their people's law and train in combat. Yanqing's soulmate will face similar, but as he is still in training himself, it will be more relaxed. Each of them will of course be with you every step of the way. Sushang is currently searching for you. Tingyun is content to wait for you, she collets trinkets over the years to gift you when you finally meet. Qingque has only just returned from a Search so she is currently focusing on her own life, but she has diaries about her searches she plans to gift her soulmate. Loucha is more a nomad, so he doesn't consider you his spouse yet and fully plans to woe you off your feet, but he has high regard for the soulmate traditions of the Xianzhou and might be quickly influenced by them. Just keep in mind to set boundaries early with any of them, they respect you to much to overstep even if those boundaries are things they are unfamiliar with.

(Characters: Jing Yuan Fu Xuan Yukong Yanqing Sushang Tingyun Qingque Loucha)

Space-Nomads have an interesting case where either each member of the group stays true to their home world's culture or a group has developed their own soulmate culture while traveling together. Other space nomads go with a mix of the two. But overall they experienced enough other cultures that they will have no problem adjusting to their soulmate's culture.

The Nameless mostly go by their home-world's culture, mainly since the culture that Pom-Pom says used to exist on the Express died before Himeko rediscovered said train. Still there are things they picked up from the conductor. Like calling Soulmates 'Soulcompasses' or just one's 'Compass'. Also, Pom-Pom considers each Nameless' match another guest of the Express and will cry if they don't board and travel with them. March 7 pretty much adopted his approach since she has no homeworld-culture to fall back on; in her mind a couple could take as long as they wanted to get together, as long both trailblazed together. Himeko is close to this ideal as well, but she wouldn't pressure someone into coming along. She can always visit with stories and souvenirs in tow. Her homeworld-culture teaches that no relationship is to be taken for granted, you don't own your soulmate, and sometimes they don't work out and that is okay. Welt is undecided on the tropic of soulmates, he has seen a lot. A soulmate is kind of unreal, but he won't push you away. The people of his world believe soulmates always work, but sometimes they don't work out right away. People are shaped by experiences. This means that at times matches can know each other for before they klick or even like each other. That being said he would never let anything happen to you if he could prevent it. Dan Heng has no problem connecting his heritage with the Express traditions, but from his experience traveling different worlds decides to give his 'Kindred Compass' the control on how fast the relationship goes. That said he is desperately hunting for his soulmate. Who knows what happen if they go to Loufu searching for him? He has to find them to at least warn them. The Trailblazer meanwhile, having no culture to remember, just adopts everybody's culture. Soulmates confuse them, but finding one's compass is good, yes?

(Characters Himeko Welt Yang March 7 Dan Heng Stelle Caelus)

Then you have the Stellaron Hunters. These guys are okay to play around or even marry prior to meeting their soulmate. But once they do, whatever relationship they had prior is over. No buts. Given how much they deal with the 'script', they will know when they will meet you and be ready a day or two early. They call the day of the meeting Destiny Call. Kafka confused everyone by bringing flowers to a fight the day she was to meet you. Silver Wolf thinks that is coming on too strong, but still makes sure to look her best on her Destiny Call. In contrast Blade will try to get a rise out of his soulmate the first time you meet. In his mind, his Fated One should know what they are getting into. They do take their other half a tad for granted, but that doesn't mean their aren't prepared to woe you for years to come.

(Characters: Kafka Silver Wolf Blade)

Now the crew of Herta's Space-Station all exclusively go by their home-world traditions. Except Herta herself. Herta has a pop-quiz ready that she will jump at you the moment she knows that you are her soulmate and make a plan based on your answers. Asta's world is neutral towards soulmates, but you only ever gift pearls or chocolate to a soulmate. So a relationship with her would be pretty normal. Except she won't stand for anyone giving you chocolate or you giving cholate out, not even to kids. Arlan has a plan on how to woe his soulmate -it goes flying out of the window the second he meets you. At his home planet you place your soulmate first before everything. There are laws against hurting one's soulmate, so he takes this very serious. Also, unlike some planets, Signs are thought as intimate, usually covered up. So if his soulmate were to show them off, he would be a blushing mess.

(Characters: Herta Asta Arlan)

[haveatthee83]

The Princess and her Fool (Buggy D. Clown/Reader) 2/4

Inspo: BABY SAID-MÅNESKIN & @sordidmusings Tender Love and Care

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Word Count: ~9.7k

Warnings: SMUT!! MINORS DNI, cursing, insecurity, cunnilingus, oral, irresponsible use of devil fruits, overstimulation, multiple orgasms.

A/N: MÅNESKIN is Buggy coded, no I won't elaborate, all chapters are inspired by different MÅNESKIN songs. Also, absolutely read the linked fic, @sordidmusings is an ICONIC writer with amazing fics. @fanaticsnail as well. They're actually the reason I started posting on Tumblr at all, so all the love for and to them. ❤️❤️❤️

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Buggy hated the bag. The fuckin itchy ass bag those asshole Straw-Hats kept him in when they decided his jokes weren’t very entertaining anymore, between navigation attempts. It smelled, it rubbed against the skin of his nose in a way that made him hate it more than he already did, and worst of all, it made it so he didn’t even have the peace of looking around at his surroundings to distract him from the pain of Arlong’s pirates’ darts games. The only reprieve he got from the irritating fabric was when you were on “Clown Watch”.

            You had taken it upon yourself to make sure Buggy(‘s head) was well cared for and comfortable. You had no good reason to do so, logically speaking. He’d been awful to you and your friends not too long ago. He was a ruthless, horrid pirate captain who would be immediately put to death by the government if he ever crossed a Marine’s path. His own parents didn’t want anything to do with him just for being born. It’s not like you even remember him. You didn’t even realize he’s your childhood friend, Peacock. And yet…here you were. Doting on him.

            “Now,” you started, still facing away from Buggy, running your mop over the wooden planks of the ship’s deck, “I know this is pretty boring, but I gotta just finish this section, then we can get some lunch! I heard Sanji’s making hot sandwiches and lemonade. I’ll make sure to snag you some too, okay?”

Buggy blinked at you from his perch on his barrel for a moment, just taking you in. You were humming, swaying with the rocking waves, the sun beating down onto your exposed shoulders over your tank top. Your smile was small, but content as you eyed the planks below you attentively.

‘Does she actually think I give a shit that it’s boring to watch someone mop? I’m outside. I can breathe clearly. That’s already miles ahead of the norm.’ Buggy thought.

“That-that’s alright Doll…” he said, swallowing the rest of his thoughts.

You immediately sensed that something was wrong, eyeing Buggy over your shoulder with a piercing glare, “What’s wrong, Buggy?” he tried to sputter out an excuse or something to get you to drop it. You did no such thing, fully turning around to face him, coming up to the barrel he sat on and crouched down to his level. Unrelated but relevant-to him, this gave Buggy a perfect eye full of your chest under your tank top. “Uh-uh. You haven’t made any jokes in like thirty minutes. No raunchy comments about my ass when I was turned around, no comments about the ‘shitty cook’? Nothing. Are you okay?” you said genuinely, perching your hands on the rim of the barrel in front of Buggy.

‘Your ass does look great in those shorts.’ Buggy thought.

Buggy swallowed, scowling at you, “I’m fine, Doll face,” you frowned, holding his gaze like you were trying to read his mind.

“People who are fine don’t act like completely different people out of nowhere.” You scolded, wagging a finger in Buggy’s face. “Do you have a fever or something? Are you getting too hot?” you asked, automatically reaching a hand toward Buggy’s forehead, only stopping short by a centimeter, “Is it…can I feel your forehead, Buggy?” you asked.

Buggy felt heat rising to his face, his ears burning, “You can, but I feel fine.”

Your frown returned, having just melted off of your face. You rolled your eyes and huffed, “Men.” You muttered under your breath, gently laying your warm hand on Buggy’s forehead. Buggy had to actively stop himself from sighing into your touch, setting his jaw. You scanned his face, brows furrowed. “You do feel kinda warm…” you trailed off, looking at the spotless floors around you, weighing something out in your mind. After a moment, you nodded resolutely and stood straight, eyes never leaving Buggy’s face for long. “Let’s go inside. We can stay in my room for the afternoon. I don’t think the ship will sink if I don’t re-mop one little corner.” You say, gently taking Buggy into your hands, minding his face.

You settle him against your torso, facing forwards as you walk towards the kitchen. As you carefully swing open the kitchen door, finding Sanji hard at work, a pile of grilled sandwiches building up higher and higher next to him. Buggy heard and felt you giggle a bit, “Busy, Sanji?” you jest, setting Buggy down onto the counter.

“Never too busy for you, mon cher,” Sanji purred, continuing to produce sandwiches at an almost concerning pace, “Luffy’s going to eat through this stack in less than a minute, and I’m still trying to gauge how much I should be making for him.” Sanji chuckled as he turned his head, looking at you over his shoulder.

You smiled, shaking your head at your captain’s antics, all the while reaching up to a cabinet just above Buggy’s head, the fabric of your tank top riding up and brushing his face, his wide eyes able to drink in the expanse of skin that was revealed. Buggy clenched his jaw and tried to suppress the heat that was rising to his ears.

You found what you were looking for, two glasses. That didn’t help Buggy’s predicament at all, he’s hopelessly not used to being taken care of, thought of, or helped…at all. By a pretty girl who laughed at his jokes? EVEN LESS.

“Where’d you put the lemonade, Sanji?” you asked, resting the glasses next to Buggy.

“Oh, right over here.”

“Great!” you reached over and found the large jug of cool liquid and brought it back over to Buggy, pouring the glasses full to the brim. You paused as you set it down, eyeing Buggy closely. Buggy could almost feel himself beginning to sweat, ‘maybe she’s realizing I’m not good enough for all of this.’ Just as the thought entered his mind, you beamed, an idea popping into your head. You quickly opened a drawer right beneath Buggy and grabbed something, you eyed Buggy with a mischievous grin and tucked the item into your back pocket. Buggy tried to question you, his brow cocking up when you interrupted him, leaning to his eye level and whispering, eyeing Sanji. “How hungry are you? I can grab a few extra sandwiches if you want. Sanji lets girls get away with a lot more than the boys.” You said, your hand cupped next to your mouth, trying to minimize any sound heading Sanji’s way.

Buggy felt that heat rising in his face again, “You-you don’t have to do that for me, Doll! Seriously” he sputtered, trying his best to keep his voice down.

You rolled your eyes and flicked Buggy’s ear as you stood back up, immediately walking over to Sanji’s side, grabbing a plate. “Could I grab a few extra sandwiches, Sanji?” you asked, resting your free hand onto his forearm. Buggy could see the tips of Sanji’s ears go red. “They look delicious, and I was hoping to get some for my night watch tonight, you know, before Luffy eats them all?” you giggled, subtly leaning into Sanji’s space that little bit more. Buggy was suppressing a frown when you eyed him over Sanji’s shoulder with a grin and a little wink.

‘Ah, flirting as a means to an end.’ Buggy kind of figured that’s what you were doing, but seeing you being flirty with someone other than him had his teeth grinding.

“Anything for you, mon cher,” Sanji proclaimed, serving you up four sandwiches fresh out of the pan. “Let me know if you need anything else.” He purred. You smiled and voiced your thanks, giving Sanji a quick hug, rushing Buggy’s way. Sanji was too distracted by your hug to notice you whipping out of the room, feet pattering down the hall.

You set Buggy down onto your bed, resting him onto your plush pillow. “Sanji’s a great cook, but that little flirt is barking up all the wrong trees,” you giggled, “he’s way too young for me, and of course Nami is not into it.” With a grin, you slid a crate you had been using as a side table over toward your bed, resting the food and drinks onto it. After setting it down you stood up and stretched your sore muscles, a chorus of pops and cracks coming from your joints. You sighed at the feeling.

Buggy watched you, peering at you from his position on your pillow. His eyes raked over your figure, resting onto the bare skin of your legs, and finding the small side string of your bikini peaking over the hem of your shorts. Buggy swallowed dryly, trying to stop staring like some perv, but he honestly felt like he couldn’t. Because that’s when his eyes laid rest on your face, your eyes closed, your lashes brushing your cheeks. Your soft lips parted just slightly. In that moment, Buggy felt like he might have found the most beautiful thing the whole ocean had to offer. Buggy didn’t want to leave you in a few days. He wanted you to come with him. He wanted a lot of things with you, but…he knew he needed to see you more. Being cut off cold turkey after days full of little moments where he’s been the happiest that he’s been since Gol D. Roger? That might destroy him.

“So, I was thinking lunch, then I need a bath, then we can read more of our book together or something if you want.” You said, rolling out your neck. Your eye cracked open at his silence and your brow furrowed. You eyed Buggy, coming to take a seat on your bed, taking Buggy in your hands as you adjusted yourself to sit comfortably. When you settled, you sat Buggy back on your pillow and frowned. “What’s wrong, Buggy?” you asked, carefully moving a piece of hair out of his face, tucking it behind his ear.

Honestly? Buggy was out of funny things to say. There was nothing funny about the way you made him feel.

Buggy sighed, “I don’t know, Doll. It’s hard to explain.” He said, and you couldn’t help but notice he wouldn’t meet your eye.

“If you don’t want to talk about it…is there something I can do to make it better? Easier?” you asked, “I’m here to help you, okay Bugs?” you said with a smile, your hand reaching out to hold the side of his face. Buggy leaned into your hand without thinking, stiffening when he realized what he’d done. But…when he looked up at your face, you were just smiling. You held the most genuine smile he’d seen in years. “Here, let’s eat.” You said, stroking Buggy’s cheek with your thumb before taking your hand back, grabbing one of the glasses of lemonade.

Buggy couldn’t help but huff out a laugh, “How am I gonna drink that? I’m gonna get lemonade all over your bed.”

Your grin only widened as you reached behind you and produced from your back pocket…a bendy straw. Buggy’s eyebrows drew together in just sheer confusion. Confusion about how he got here, what he could have done to deserve this. To deserve you. And frankly, he was drawing a blank.

A gentle tink of the straw disturbing the ice in the glass made Buggy come to. You giggled a bit as you lowered the glass to Buggy’s level, holding the straw still for him. Buggy only hesitated for a heartbeat before (metaphorically) shrugging and taking a long sip from the straw. The lemonade was good, perfectly tart, not too sweet, and ice cold. How long had it been since he had lemonade?

“Alright, for the sandwiches, do you want me to rip them up or just hold it for you?” you asked, swapping the lemonade for the plate of sandwiches.

Buggy found himself stuttering again, “What-whatever’s easier for you, I guess.” He muttered. You nodded and grabbed one of the sandwich halves, minding your fingers against the hot fillings. You carefully ripped off a corner, holding it out to Buggy as you took a bite of the larger piece. Buggy carefully took the sandwich piece in his mouth, trying not to spook you by accidentally brushing his lips against your fingers.

As Buggy chewed on his meal, he thought to himself, ‘Wait…would…would she mind?’ Buggy had this funny little thing about him. He was a bit of a failure…but he was always failing up. He could stub his toe on a rock and by doing that, break a 100-year curse and get three wishes. So…maybe if he takes a little chance…fuck it.

“Damn that blond can cook.” You mutter, taking another bite of the sandwich half in your hand. After you took a bite, you ripped off another chunk of the sandwich and held it out for Buggy. Buggy couldn’t help but snort out a little laugh at your awe. You were right, they were damn good sandwiches, but your reaction completely caught him off guard.

You whipped your head to lock eyes onto Buggy’s. You hadn’t heard him laugh all day, and you realized in that moment that it was probably your favorite sound. “Eat your damned food, Buggy.” You said, thrusting the food closer to his face with a chuckle. Buggy complied with a grin, biting into it a bit too far, his lips brushing your fingertips as he pulled it away from your grasp. You physically stuttered at the feeling, your hand freezing in place, and you could feel warmth rushing your face. Buggy watched your face through his lashes, drinking in your flustered expression, a little pit of fear in his chest, miles away, but you didn’t leave. You didn’t yell, grimace, or smack him. You just stared for a moment. When you realized you were just sitting there like an idiot, you blinked yourself out of your stupor, shaking your head and handing him the rest of the sandwich half.

Buggy was feeling brave, a little high on your reactions. That’s why when you handed him the last bit, he decided to take a rather large bite. A bite big enough that his teeth nipped at your fingertips. You gasped, taking your hand back before flicking his ear, “No biting.” You hissed.

“No promises,” Buggy teased, a smirk spreading across his face. You sighed and grabbed another sandwich half, the rest of your lunch full of little nips and reprimands.

“I need a bath, Bugs.” You said, rifling through your drawers to find some fresh clothes.

Buggy huffed, “So? Why does that mean I have to deal with that moody-“ you cut him off with a deadpan stare. “I won’t look!” he insisted.

“And I should believe the infamous pirate captain, why?” you asked standing in front of him with your new outfit and a towel in your arms.

“Aww, you think I’m famous?” Buggy grinned. You crossed your arms and set your hip to the side, a pointed glare on your face. Buggy deflated a bit, eyeing the floor, “Come on, Starshine. I don’t wanna go back in the bag.” He muttered.

He saw you tense in his peripherals before dropping to your knees in front of him, taking his head in your hands, stroking his cheeks with your thumbs. Buggy lifted his gaze to lock with your concerned eyes, “Do you…” you hesitated, clearing your throat, “I can ask if you can…just stay with me when you aren’t navigating.” You murmured, eyes searching his face for-something. What? Buggy had no idea.

Buggy’s eyes widened, “You don’t have to-“

“I want to.”

“You’d put up- “

“With what? Listening to jokes that make me laugh and keeping good company?”

“I’m not-“

“I’m asking.” You said firmly, “Don’t try anything stupid, I’ll be right back.” You said, and that’s when it happened. On reflex, without even thinking about it, like it was as natural as breathing, you rested your lips against Buggy’s hairline. It was quick, barely a peck, but it was enough. You rushed out of the room, “ZORO! LUFFY!” you called out, the sound of your voice and foot falls fading as you reached the end of the hallway.

Buggy felt like he was on fire, like every nerve in his body was lit up and buzzing with electricity. ‘You…you kissed me!’ he thought. ‘Me?! Buggy D. Clown?! You kissed me, and you’re about to ask…to spend more time with me?’ Buggy was dead, that had to be the answer. He was dead and had bribed his way into heaven. You were an angel sent to create his paradise. Well, maybe not. His paradise would probably include the rest of his body, and…other activities. Maybe you were just that amazing. Maybe you saw a pitiful, bodyless pirate captain with a big red nose and thought he deserved kindness. Thought he was a person worthy of your attention and affection. Maybe you…liked him.

“Okay, so,” you started, heaving the door to your room open, “You’re stuck with me now.” You said, walking toward where he sat on your pillow, “But, I had to take some extra night watches, so you better keep me company.” You chuckled, picking up your clothes and towel, rifling through drawers to find something.

“What are you doing, Doll?” Buggy asked as you gently lifted him up into your arms, heading out the door.

“I need a bath.” You said simply.

“Right.”

“You really are acting weird, Buggy. You haven’t been joking much at all today. You’ve only laughed like once all day!” You whispered, making your way through the halls to the bathroom.

“I’m fine-“

“Bullshit.” You said, pushing into the small bathroom. You gently rested Buggy onto the edge of the tub, turning on the water. “You have been weird all day! And not the good kind!” you insisted, testing the temperature.

“I have-“ God, could Buggy complete one sentence around you. He cut himself off as he saw you begin to take your tank top over your head. “Wha-what are you doing?!” Buggy exclaimed, unable to suppress the red rush of heat coming into his face.

You tossed the shirt to the side, unbuttoning your shorts, “Getting ready for a bath?” you giggled, pulling the shorts down your legs. Buggy unabashedly eyed your body, now only covered by a small, tie string bikini. He watched as you bent over to grab the shorts off where it had caught on your foot, the way you were reaching down squeezing your breasts together in such a way that made Buggy somewhat glad that his body was miles away. “I’ll keep the bikini on, so you don’t have to leave,” you said, suddenly bashful as you wrapped your arms around your middle.

“Well, don’t feel like you have to on my account.” Buggy muttered, to which you narrowed your eyes and walked over to the tub.

“Feeling better, Buggy?” you teased, stepping into the bath, lowering yourself into the warm water with a sigh.

“Might feel even better without that bikini in the way.” He chuckled.

You smiled and rolled your eyes, turning off the water as the bath was full. Buggy watched you as you dunked your head back and under the water, and he couldn’t help but feel a pang of envy at your complete lack of fear in the sloshing liquid. ‘Fucking Shanks.’

When you rose back out of the water, you brushed your hair out of your face and rubbed the water out of your eyes. “Would you like me to wash your hair? Maybe get that makeup off your face? Little refresh?” you said, squeezing water out of your hair.

Buggy eyes the water cautiously, “I don’t know, Doll face. You know how water and devil fruits don’t mix.”

Your eyes softened as you reached up, moving some hair from his face that had fallen in all the excitement. “I’ll keep you safe.” You whispered, gently caressing his face.

Buggy swallowed dryly, but nodded, “You let me drown and I’ll bite you.” He said as you grinned.

“Deal!” you said, reaching over the edge of the tub to find a wide, smooth plank of wood, placing it across the tub in front of you. You grabbed Buggy and put him onto the plank, gauging his reaction, “Is this okay? I thought it might be better than just putting you into the water.” Buggy nodded, again feeling lost for words at your thoughtfulness. “Okay, great! Do you mind if I take off your bandana now?” you asked, fingers brushing over the fabric.

“Kinda hard to wash my hair with it on, eh Doll?”

“I just…don’t want to do anything without your permission, Buggy. It must be so…disarming to be just a head, I mean, the boys are always man handling you without asking, so…I want to always make sure I don’t do that.” You explained, studying his face.

“God dammit.” Buggy hissed, “That’s my problem, Doll!” he exclaimed.

You furrowed your brow, setting your hands back in your lap under the water. “What?”

Buggy huffed, overwhelmed and trying to find the words, “You-you’re just so…Why do you-what did I. Ugh! Why are you so nice to me?!” Buggy finally spat out. Your expression softened again as you reached back up, holding his face with one of your hands. “You’re so-so nice, and pretty, and you laugh at my jokes, even if they suck-and you-you think of everything all the time! Like the bendy straw and just this stupid wood thing! You knew I was afraid of water so you-you made sure to get this so you could still help me! I just don-“ God, one sentence.

You cut Buggy off by picking him up, still chattering away and bringing your lips to his own, a soft, quick peck, but it was enough. You drew him back just a bit, enough for him to tell you to fuck off if he so pleased, but he didn’t.

“Oh.” Buggy huffed, locking his eyes on yours. “I didn’t think you’d…” Buggy trailed off as you drew him back into another embrace, your lips pressing against his in a gentle pressure that he returned, his lips moving hesitantly against yours. You moved in synch as your fingers nimbly moved Buggy’s bandana off, seeking his hair between your fingers. Just as Buggy was thinking about venturing further, his tongue just about to flick across yours, you pulled him back, pure adoration in your gaze.

“I like you, Buggy. A lot.” You said, “I thought you were funny and pretty when I first saw you but…getting to know you while I’ve been on ‘Clown Watch’.” You giggled at the name, resting Buggy back onto the plank of wood, “I’ve come to like you as a person. You make me…feel safe. You make me laugh, you’re one of the most quick-witted people I’ve ever met, and well-I just…I think about you all the time. I think about how you’re doing,” you continued, picking up a cup and laying Buggy back, wetting his hair, “I think about what kind of things you like. I think about if you…really even like me at all or if you just put up with me.” You trailed off, grabbing the bottle of shampoo from next to you. You kept your gaze on his hair as you knelt up to reach his scalp, the smell of passionfruit and something floral invading his senses.

Buggy was perplexed, you of all people thought Buggy might not like being around you. You’re wonderful! “Why the fuck would you think that?” Buggy exclaimed, startling you a bit.

“I don’t know…people don’t really…like me like that.” You muttered, a sad look on your face. “I’m never the prettiest or the smartest or the funniest in a group. There’s just always someone better. Like Nami. She’s gorgeous, and I’m-I’m pretty normal.” You continued massaging the aromatic soap into his scalp, your nails gently scratching the skin occasionally.

“I think that’s bullshit.” Buggy muttered, his eyes scanning your face as you still refused to look at him. “I think you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I love just listening to you talk, and you’re the nicest person I’ve met. You’re pretty flashy if you ask me.” He said resolutely, closing his eyes, like that would make you incapable of arguing with him.

“Are you just being nice?” you asked after a while, running the cup of water over his hair, gently coaxing out the suds.

Buggy’s eyes snapped open at that,“Look at me.” You still only kept your eyes on your work, He whispered your name, not some Doll or some other nickname, your government name, causing your eyes to snap to his, wide with fear, “I like you too. More than you know. You’re the best thing to happen to me in a long time, and it’s only been a few days. I-I’m dreading finding Arlong and that tangerine girl, cause that means…I probably won’t see you again.” He confessed, eyes searching yours.

Your eyes welled up a bit as you poured conditioner into your hand, running it through the lengths of his hair, the same passion fruit scent wafting over him. “I know. I-I try not to think about it.” You whispered, grabbing the cup and rinsing the slick soap from his ends.

“You could come with me.” Buggy muttered, it was so quiet you could have mistaken it for the wind.

You smiled softly, setting Buggy back up on his neck, squeezing his long hair out, “I wish I could. Really. I do.” You said, your eyes pricking with tears, threatening to fall.

“Why can’t you?”

“I made a promise. A vow. To Luffy. I can’t leave him until I…find something.” You grabbed a soft rag from your pile of stuff and sat back properly, soaking the fabric.

“What do you need to find?” Surely you could find it with Buggy.

Your eyes darkened a bit as you brought the rag up to Buggy’s face, gently running it along his skin. “It’s hard to explain, I don’t think you’d understand.”

“Try me.” You set your jaw and seemed to search Buggy’s face, analyzing every little movement and twitch.

“I’m looking for my father’s Devil Fruit.” You whispered, running the rag over Buggy’s forehead.

Buggy’s brows pinched together, “Why the fuck would you want that?” he asked, you didn’t even pause your motions, still slowly cutting through Buggy’s makeup.

“I need to eat it so I can carry on his line. I’m his only child, and that fruit has been passed down in our family since Devil Fruits first came around. When he died,” you started, ignoring Buggy’s bewildered expression, “Marines raided his funeral. His funeral, Buggy! In my family, the funeral also is the ceremony where the next in line eats the fruit. Just as I was about to take it, the Marines came and…and killed the rest of my family. They killed my mother. When they escaped, I chased them down the dock and stole someone’s boat. I had no chance of finding them, but I tried. Luffy found me stranded in the middle of the East Blue on that little boat, no provisions or anything, in my torn up ceremonial gown, sun burnt to hell and back. He brought me on without question and helped me get better. When I was better and I told him what happened, he promised to help me find it. I promised to stay with his crew and help him until we do, then I’d go on my own way, find my own path.”

“Do you know which Marines have it?”

“No, but we heard it was relocated to Loguetown.” You said, wiping one final stripe against Buggy’s skin. “We’re going there next after we find Nami. It’s on the way to the Grand Line anyways.”

“Which fruit is it?” Buggy asked as you set the rag down, going back to grab the shampoo for yourself.

As you spoke you ran the soap through your hair, “It’s not very well known, since we’ve kept it safe all these years. So, you might not know it. It’s called the Kaku Kaku no Mi. The paint paint fruit. It makes it so whatever you paint manifests in real life. I paint a cat, a cat appears. I paint a ship, a ship appears. It works best with inanimate objects but can create golem like living things. It could be used in many corrupt ways, so we’ve kept it in the family and have worked for generations to keep it from the government. And I go and mess it all up in one little raid. I should have been able to fight them back. Protect the fruit. But I didn’t.” you said resolutely, dunking your head under the water, just enough to submerge your hair.

“You couldn’t have fought off a whole marine raid on your own, Doll.” Buggy muttered.

“I should have done something.” You said.

You spent the rest of the bath in relative silence, Buggy making a few quips to try and break the tension, unsuccessfully. When you finished, you pulled the plug and rose out of the water, pulling your towel around your body before reaching down to grab another towel you had brought to wrap around Buggy’s now clean head. ‘You even brought me my own towel? What the fu-‘

“I’ll keep your face hidden so the boys don’t see you without your makeup.” You muttered, everything you needed gathered in your arms. You sighed as you held Buggy against your torso, making sure his towel was securely hiding his face. “I know it’s hard not having it on. I can redo it before night watch,”

Buggy rested his head against you fully, “You’re too damned nice, Doll.” He whispered, watching the light change over and over again as you walked through the halls of the ship.

“Maybe your expectations are just too low, Buggy.” You whispered back, pushing your door open. When in your room, you rested Buggy on your dresser, his hair still dripping onto the towel below him. You put the rest of the stuff you held down onto the ground, turning back to Buggy with a small smile, “I’m gonna turn you around so I can change, okay, Bugs?” you muttered, stroking his cheek.

Buggy swallowed the lump in his throat, “Whatever you need, Beautiful.” He whispered, sighing as you gently turned Buggy’s face to the wall.

“I’ll try to be quick,” you muttered, the sound of you untying your swimsuit filling Buggy’s ears. “Incoming!” you exclaim with a giggle, and Buggy felt the wet slap of your bikini top hitting the back of his head.

Buggy sputtered out a laugh, “What was that for?”

You continued giggling and Buggy heard your feet patter up close behind him, the warmth of your body beating against his neck, “I was aiming for my laundry hamper. I missed.” You said, grabbing the top off of his head. “Sorry, Bugs.”

“Gimme a peek and all is forgiven, Doll face.” He snickered.

“Keep asking like that and I might,” you purred, suddenly right next to his ear, a gentle nip at one of his piercings.

Buggy felt his whole face light up immediately, “You’re killing me, Doll.” He whined. “I don’t even have hands right now.”

“I know…but you know what?” you said, still right behind the clown’s ear, “I wonder what you’d do if you did.” With that you shoved yourself away, the rustle of fabric harmonizing with your laughter.

Buggy called out your name, “You can’t just talk like that, Starlight.”

You grabbed Buggy and flipped him around on the dresser, facing you, fully dressed, “You want me to stop?” you asked, bottom lip between your teeth, inches away from his face.

“Never,” Buggy whispered. You grinned, leaning in and pressing your lips to his. The kiss was small and quick, but you pulled away with a smile. “Come on, pretty girl,”

“What?”

“You should rest up before your night watch.” He muttered, tilting his head toward your bed. “Don’t want you falling asleep on duty.” Buggy teased, smiling as you ran your fingers through his damp hair.

“On two conditions.” You giggle, drying his hair with his towel.

“Shoot.”

“One, you nap with me.”

“Done.”

“Two,” You start to laugh again, “you let me braid your hair when we wake up.”

Buggy furrowed his brow, incredulous, “You wanna do what?”

“Yeah! When we wake up, I’ll braid your hair and redo your makeup!” you explained, picking Buggy up and walking toward your bed. When you settled under the covers, you rested Buggy on your chest, still facing you. “Please?” Buggy squinted at you, unsure. “I’ll let you pick what we do during night watch!” you sing songed, nudging your nose against Buggy’s.

“Watch the nose,” he started, “But…deal.”

“I like your nose.” You whispered, a gleam in your eye.

“Bullshit.”

“Nuh-uh!”

“Yeah-huh!”

“I think it’s pretty. Just like the rest of you.” You ran your fingers over Buggy’s face, his soft lashes brushing against your fingertips. “You know, the first time I saw you, I know you were trying to hurt us, but…all I could think about was how-“

“Ugly I am?”

“Beautiful you are.” You and Buggy answered at the same time.

“You hit your head, Doll face?” he huffed. “Cause no one thinks this mug is beautiful. My own mother didn’t think this face was worth keeping around.”

You frowned, “You talk so poorly about yourself. I happen to think you’re the most beautiful, wonderful, flashy,” you add with a grin, “man I’ve ever met.”

Buggy opened his mouth to protest again, only for you to grab his face again and shift onto your side, resting his head against your pillow in front of your face.

“Sleep, Buggy.” With that, Buggy sighed and let his eyes droop closed, lulled to sleep by your steady breathing.

“You’re gonna poke my eye out, babe.” Buggy muttered.

You laughed, easing the pressure of the brush against his face, “I just really want to match it.” You said, holding up the wanted poster in your hand.

Resuming your ministrations, applying Buggy’s crossbones, Buggy couldn’t help but ask, “Why do you have that, anyway?”

You felt heat rise to your cheeks, “I saw it in this girl named Kaya’s village. I try to keep up with bounties, see if I have one yet, you know? When I was looking through them, I saw yours, nice bounty by the way, and I don’t know. I wanted to keep it. In honor of the first pirate that I ran into with Luffy, you know?” you eyed the paints at your side as you mutter, “It helped that you look kinda hot in your poster.” You said with a grin.

Buggy snorted a laugh, “You’d look great on a wanted poster, Doll.” He sighed under the cool feeling of the paints running across his skin, “Why don’t you have a bounty yet?”

“I haven’t been caught,” you chuckled. “I’ve had my fair share of hijinks and blown up Marine ships…” you trail off with a mischievous lilt to your voice. “They just don’t know it’s me. They’ll know after Loguetown, though. They might even know after we leave Arlong Park. One of the crew members that helped defeat one of the most prolific captains in the East Blue.” You said with a chuckle.

“Oh yeah, that’d get you a good one.” Buggy smirked.

You paused, gently resting your hands in your lap. “When you get your body back…” you trail off, finding your words. “Will you help us with Arlong or are you gonna go as soon as you can?” you asked, resuming your painting with a sigh.

“I don’t-“

“You can go.” You muttered, “You don’t have to help us, you know? You don’t owe us anything, and I know the boys aren’t exactly your favorite people. We can take care of ourselves. It’s okay.” Buggy’s brows pinched together, just as his mouth opened to respond, you rested your finger on his lips with a smile, “Seriously. It’s okay.”

As you turned to get more paint on your brush Buggy spoke, “Please come with me, Doll.”

Your motions stuttered, “You know I can’t, Buggy.” You whispered, adding the finishing touches.

“I don’t want to just go about my life like you don’t exist.”

You bit your lips, grabbing Buggy’s head and holding him to your eye level, “…wait for me?”

“Huh?”

“I’ll go with you, after I find my father’s fruit in Loguetown. Find me after, and I’ll go with you. I’ll follow you to the ends of the sea, all across the Grand Line, just…wait for me.”

“How would I know you found it?” he asked.

Your face broke out into a sly grin, “Keep an eye out for my bounty poster. You’ll know I found it when I’m smiling in my picture, smiling because I’ll know that I’m that much closer to being back with you.”

Buggy nodded, setting his jaw, “I’ll see what I can do, Doll.” He agreed, “But just know,” you cocked a brow, “I’m not a patient man.”

Your smile broke out wide across your face, giving Buggy a quick peck on the lips before setting him down in your lap, facing away from you, “Now let me braid your hair. I’m thinking two Dutch braids.”

When you finished your braiding, Buggy was two minutes from falling into a deep sleep, his eyes bleary and drooping closed. He only roused from his relaxation when you started tying his bandana back onto his head.

“Your hair is so nice, Bugs.” You muttered, running your hands along your handiwork. “The color is to die for.” You said, picking him up and putting him onto the crate next to you. You stood and gathered all of your belongings off of the floor, putting them away where they belong.

“You’re one to talk,” Buggy chuckled, “you’re probably the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

You eyed Buggy over your shoulder, “You mean that?”

“Of course, Doll.” You felt yourself flush as you turned away and grabbed the book you and Buggy had been reading together, shoving it into your back pocket, before coming over to him and picking him up and making your way to the deck, heading to the crow’s nest. The setting sun painted the ship in pinks, oranges, and purples.

“Hey! Clown Lady!” you whipped around to where the voice came from, seeing Zoro in all his moody glory, striding toward you two.

“She has a name, moss head!” Buggy growled.

Zoro snarled, “Wasn’t talking to you, clown.”

You frowned, “He’s still a person, Zoro. Don’t be a dick.”

Zoro looked at you, bewildered, “I’m not touching that can of worms.” He muttered. “I need the clown. Sniper boy’s lost again.” He explained, reaching his hand out to take Buggy out of your arms, aiming for his bandana.

You frowned and turned your body away from Zoro’s grasp, beginning to walk to where Usopp sat at the helm, “I can take him, thanks.” Zoro blinked a few times, trying to process what just happened before shaking his head and following you.

“Hi, Usopp! Heard you needed Buggy’s help?” you said, resting Buggy against the railing next to the wheel.

“You need to be two clicks more to the East, now, let’s go, Doll face.” Buggy exclaimed, hoping to get back to your precious solitude for the last couple days you two had left.

“Woah, hold on!” Usopp called out, trying to adjust the steering accordingly, “How far out are we?”

“Should be the day after tomorrow.” Buggy muttered, “Can I go now? We were having fun, Pinocchio.” He said nodding toward you.

“Be nice.” You hissed, flicking Buggy’s ear.

He laughed with a wince, “I am nice.”

“I-I guess that’s all I need then.” Usopp said, trailing off, “You’ve never been so…succinct.”

Buggy rolled his eyes and nudged your arm, “Let’s go, I wanna read the next chapter.”

You chuckled and agreed, “We’ll be in the crow’s nest if you need us.” You trailed off as you pattered over to the mast.

“How are you gonna tell Luffy?” Usopp muttered.

Zoro frowned, “What?”

“She’s not staying. Not long at least.”

“What are you talking about?” Zoro’s eyes narrowed, his hand reflexively trying to rest on the hilts of his swords.

Usopp sighed, letting out a quiet chuckle, “They’re in love.” He said resolutely, “She won’t stay away from him long. She’ll go with him soon.”

Zoro grit his teeth as he thought about telling his captain that you would leave. “Maybe it’s not my place. Maybe she should tell him.”

“Maybe.”

“As the battle came to a close, the princess found herself heaving for breath, dragging her battered, armored body across corpses of men better than she, trying to find her beloved knight. Her eyes stung with tears as she called out to him-“ Buggy wasn’t listening. Well, he was, but not very closely. He was more focused on your face, watching as your eyes glimmered in the moonlight, as your face mimicked the mood of the passage you read. “-she screamed up to the heavens as she held her love in her arms, begging any god who’d listen to wake him. She was inconsolable when a figure approached her-“ Buggy’s eyes roamed over you further, taking in your smooth skin, lit up by the lantern you’d brought up with you to read. Buggy’s gaze traveled over the hills and valleys of your form, your soft lips, your nimble hands, every curve and edge he could soak in. His attention lingered around your plush legs, his mouth going a bit dry. You really were beautiful.

“What do you want to do when you find it?” Buggy’s voice shocked even him; he hadn’t thought about saying anything. You stopped your reading, eyeing the clown with furrowed brows. “I mean-like what do you wanna do with your life?”

You pursed your lips and sighed, “I’m getting asked about this a lot lately.” Nevertheless, you slid a bookmark into the book in your hand and set it aside, instead taking Buggy into your grasp, setting him against your raised knees. “It’s stupid.” You warned.

Buggy rolled his eyes with a smirk, “Try me.”

You wouldn’t meet his eyes, instead opting to look at your lantern, “I kinda…I want to,” you trailed off, heat rising to your face. Buggy just nodded in encouragement, “I want to perform.” You finally spat out, squinting your eyes closed. “I’m sure it sounds silly to you, Mister Ringleader. But I want to be a performer.”

Buggy’s brain practically short circuited, could you be more perfect? “Why would I think that’s ‘silly’?”

You shrugged, “I know it’s not just as easy as wanting to do it, I guess. I know it’s a lot of work. It must sound ridiculous hearing someone talk about doing it with no experience.” You explained, nervously fiddling with one of Buggy’s braids.

Buggy chuckled a bit, “No, Doll.” He started, glad to meet your big, beautiful eyes again, “I think it’s really cool that you want to be a performer. It’s…nice.” You gave Buggy a little smile, “What kind of act do you want to do?”

You giggled and shrugged again, “I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeves, but I don’t know what people would actually want to see”

“Lay it on me.”

“Huh?”

“Tell me whatcha got.”

Your face practically burned as you spoke, “Well, I learned how to fire breathe, I love acrobatics, I mean, that trapeze stuff is so fun,” you gushed, making Buggy’s heart warm, “I do a bit of dance, and I’m not a bad sword swallower, but I really like dagger throwing.”

“Yeah?” Buggy encouraged, “You sound like a little jack of all trades, don’t ya?”

You shrugged, “I had a weird upbringing. Traveled with my dad and ran into all sorts of people. I probably wouldn’t have learned half of it if it weren’t for these friends I had though.”

Buggy’s heart skipped a beat, “Who’s that?”

You beamed, “When I was fifteen, these two boys docked with their pirate crew on my island. I met them as soon as they touched ground, one of em was a right little shit and pissed me off. Tried flirting me up, so I clocked him.” You dissolved into giggles at the memory.

‘Fucking Shanks.’ Buggy thought.

“He tried fighting back, but I knocked him out cold!” Buggy smiled at the memory, “His buddy came up and tried to mediate the situation, I was so mad, I was ready to keep beating up his unconscious buddy. I only stopped and calmed down cause I thought he was cute, all worried and trying to fix things,” you giggled, making Buggy’s eyes widen. “He was awkward as all get-out, but he convinced me to chill. We sat around and talked while we waited for his buddy to wake up. When he did, we all agreed to hang out while they were there, I’d be their little tour guide and we’d have a ball together. It was so nice. They’re the ones who introduced me to performing at all.” You continued, still fiddling with Buggy’s braid, “The cute one taught me how to throw knives. He was so damned good at it too! I kept practicing all these years later in hopes that if I see him again, maybe I’d beat him in this little game we came up with. It’s basically darts but with knives.”

Buggy felt himself looking at you like you hung the moon, “We’ll have to play sometime.” He muttered. ‘Should I tell her?’

You nodded and smiled, “You’d be good at it.”

‘Yeah, I came up with it.’

“Why aren’t you performing now?” Buggy asked.

You rolled your eyes, “What’s with the third degree, Buggy?” you teased.

Buggy stuck his tongue out at you, “I distinctly remember you telling me I could pick what we do up here,” the clown mocked you.

“Didn’t think you’d pick interrogating me.” You teased. “Thought you ‘d pick something a bit more…fun.” You purred, stroking Buggy’s cheek.

Buggy swallowed dryly, “That can be…arranged.” He said simply.

You bit your lip and drew Buggy in close, drawing him in for a deep kiss. Buggy’s eyes fluttered shut as you angled your lips against his, a breathy moan coming from your throat. Buggy ran his tongue against your bottom lip, and you opened your mouth happily, meeting his tongue with yours. You pulled away just enough that you could kiss along his jaw, biting just under his ear.

Buggy hissed quietly, “Whatcha want, pretty boy?” he heard your voice in his ear, felt your teeth on his earrings.

Buggy huffed, “Want my damned body back, Doll.”

You giggled, drawing him back in for another kiss, “And in the meantime?” you mumbled against his lips.

Buggy groaned lowly, nipping at you, “Wanna make you feel good, Doll Face.”

You smiled against him, “How do you want me?” you lilted.

“Naked, preferably.” He chuckled. You threw your head back with a laugh, letting Buggy have his way with your neck for a moment. You moaned out as he found that one little spot before taking him off of you, resting him onto the floor of the crow’s nest. You eyed Buggy carefully, biting your lip before raising your tank top over your head, a new bikini covering your chest. Buggy drank you in, eyes tracking every movement and breath. He watched as you rose to your feet, unbuttoning your shorts, dragging them over your legs. When they were off, you settled back onto your knees in front of him, eyes not leaving his as you reached behind you, untying your bikini top with a simple pull of a string at your back and neck. You held the fabric to your chest for a moment after the ties came loose, a nervous look on your face, “C’mon, beautiful.” Buggy groaned, “Lemme see all of you.” You averted your eyes again as you let the top fall from your grasp and Buggy had to hold back an unabashed moan as he took in your form. You sat high on your knees, reaching a hand on either side of your bikini bottoms, ready to untie those as well. Buggy actively felt his breath be stolen as you slipped the fabric off of you, the lantern’s light flickering over your bare body made you look positively heavenly.

You took Buggy in your hands, slipping his bandana from his head, “Mind if I undo your hair?” you ask quietly. Buggy nodded, “Wanna run my fingers through it.” You whispered, setting Buggy back down between your legs, facing away from you. Buggy felt the heat of your body all around him as you gently raked your fingers through his blue locks, a slight wave from the braid making you smile, “You’re so pretty, Buggy.” You mutter, “Bet you’re pretty all over.” Buggy felt his whole body tense, miles away. You’d be the death of him.

When you finished unraveling his hair, you grabbed him again, taking him to eye level before drawing him in for a chaste kiss, “How do you want me?” you asked again, laying kisses against Buggy’s lips all throughout him speaking.

“Want-mm-want you on-dammit Doll-put-just put me-“ Buggy let out a low groan, “Lay me down and get on top, beautiful.” He muttered, finally catching his breath. You flushed, but complied, resting Buggy down onto the wooded ground, hovering above him on your knees. Buggy’s mouth watered a bit at the sight of your glistening core above him. You looked at the clown’s head between your legs and hummed, reaching a hand down to run your fingers through the soft hair on his head, “Sit.” Buggy groaned.

Your eyes shot wide, “Huh?”

Buggy rolled his eyes, “Sit down.” He said like it was obvious.

You scanned his face for any signs of not wanting this, “Are you sure?”

“Sweetheart, sit down on my damned face before I start trying to jump.” He droned, not even batting an eye.

You sighed, covering your warm face with your free hand, but lowered yourself down onto Buggy’s eager mouth. He got right to work, tongue reaching up to your clit, a sharp gasp coming from your lips, your grip on his hair tightening. Buggy just smiled and continued, lapping away at your core above him, the taste of you making him moan into you. Buggy felt your hips buck forwards a bit, a stifled groan ripping out of you as your clit bumped his nose. Buggy shuffled slightly, moving to where you could run your clit against it every time you moved, quickly pushing his tongue into you, feeling like heaven for you as you moved your hand so you could bite your knuckle.

“God, Buggy.” You whined. Buggy hummed into you, the vibrations making you moan into your hand, “Keep going.” You didn’t have to tell Buggy twice. Frankly, Buggy would be fine to stay down there for as long as you’d let him. He’d stay, clenched between your thighs for hours, he’d die down there, suffocated by you, and he would probably say thank you. He drank in your moans as he ran his tongue along your slick walls, trying to dedicate the sound to memory.

Buggy had an idea. A silly, possibly weird idea. He detached his tongue, diving even deeper into you, a muffled cry of ecstasy above him as he searched around. You whimpered as he found it, and Buggy began simply bullying your g-spot, poking, prodding, licking it like it was his job. You rolled your hips against his face, huffing and puffing above him. “So close, baby.” You muttered, “Kee-keep going, Buggy.” Buggy was a very attentive listener when he wanted to be.

Buggy kept up the pace, craning his neck up a bit to bump against your bundle of nerves on his nose, matching your rocking motions, drawing moan after moan out of you. When he felt your nails dig into his scalp, Buggy grinned, picking up the pace a bit, relishing in your whines.

Suddenly, Buggy felt your thighs clamp around his head, your walls fluttering around his tongue, a delicious gush of your arousal dripping into his mouth. Buggy kept up his ministrations through your orgasm, letting you ride it out. When it subsided, Buggy didn’t let up, trying to draw out another from you.

You whined at the overstimulation, but still rolled your hips over his face, your whole lower body twitching with anticipation. The second orgasm hit you like a truck, and you had to slap your hand over your mouth to silence an absolute scream from ripping out of your throat. Still Buggy didn’t stop, trying for a new record or something, you were sure, his tongue swirling inside you, sending jolts straight to your clit that rubbed deliciously against his round nose with every movement, as soon as your second orgasm subsided, a third sent you reeling, tears falling from your eyes, grip impossibly tight on Buggy’s hair as a silent sob racked through you.

As you came down from your high, you had to rip Buggy’s head away from you, toppling over onto all fours over him. He just grinned, his tongue still detached, soaking in your fucked out expression, mixing up the pattern of his abuse inside you. You whined and rolled onto your side, hands diving between your legs. To try and take it out? To help for number four? You didn’t even know, practically fucked dumb as you clamped your thighs together, your eyes meeting Buggy’s as tears still streamed down your cheeks, you grabbed the clown’s head and drew him into a sloppy kiss, maybe to distract yourself from the overwhelming sensation, his lips eagerly meeting yours as you rapidly drew circles over your clit, drawing out one more, ‘Just one more’, you promised yourself.

You shook as you came, ripping your lips from Buggy’s and throwing your head back, “Please, Buggy.” You begged, reaching another hand down to try and reach into yourself. Buggy gave you a shit eating grin as he watched you practically fuck yourself trying to grab out his elusive tongue. You writhed as you rolled onto your stomach, face down, ass up as you kept reaching two fingers deep inside of you, your arousal dripping all over the floor under you. You whimpered and moaned, number five making you rake your free hand over the wooden floor, “God, Buggy!” you moaned out, “Too much!” your knees spread out under you, a pretty presentation for the clown who watched the whole display, desperately hard wherever his body was.

You ground your hips into your hand as you reached your second hand back down, desperately running your fingers over your clit, your cheek pressing into the ground under you. Buggy watched your frantic movements, the way your tits rocked back and forth with you and God, if he could fall even deeper for you, he did right then. “Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck!” you whimpered, collapsing as you writhed and practically humped your own hands, fingers still searching for Buggy’s tongue deep inside you. “Buggy.” You moaned out, “one more, then you get out of me.” You whined, frantically circling your hips, your movements jolty as you fucked yourself deeper.

Buggy chuckled at your predicament, in love with watching you unravel for him.

“I mean it.” You hissed, flipping yourself to sit up for Buggy, leaning against the wall of the crow’s nest, a pool of your sweat and arousal forming under you. You looked deep in Buggy’s eyes as you shoved a third finger in, knuckle deep. You moaned pornographically, trying to be quiet, and bucked up your hips again.

Buggy moaned as he watched you reach the hand that was just on your clit up and grasp at your breast, squeezing it and rolling the nipple between your fingers, your eyes fluttering shut. You picked up the pace as Buggy started to somehow find it in him to run his tongue along your walls harder, faster. Biting your lip as your eyes rolled back in your head, your whole body shaking with the force of your orgasm, you gasped out as you squirted out onto the floor, a hopeless sob leaving you as you took your hand out of you, letting both of them rest next to you.

Then and only then did Buggy let his tongue slither out of you, licking a long stripe up your vulva, circling your clit a final time, making you twitch and groan, before opening his mouth and letting it reconnect.

“How’d I do, Doll Face?” Buggy huffed, ears roaring with his rushing blood.

You simply raised up a middle finger at him, a soft chuckle falling from your bruised and swollen lips. Buggy grinned as you picked him back up, laying a peck on his lips, “Holy shit, Buggy.” You huffed. “What the fuck else can you do?”

You ran your fingers gently through Buggy’s hair in your room, humming a little tune. You settled deeper under your covers, eyes drooping with the sway of the waves, settling Buggy more securely against you, the back of his head resting against your breasts comfortably.

“Gave myself the blue balls of a lifetime.” Buggy grumbled, making you bark out a laugh. “Seriously.” He whined.

You shook your head and flicked his ear, “You picked what we did.” You chimed.

“I know. It’s my own fault, but I couldn’t help it. Having you ready and willing all sexy and worked up? Couldn’t resist.” He sighed, “And now I’m suffering because of it.”

You giggled and stroked Buggy’s cheeks with your hands, “Just means I owe you one-“

“-or six.”

“-when you get your body back.” You purred, “Think you can wait that long, Buggy?”

Buggy’s face flushed with heat as he stammered, “Fucking hell, Doll! You’re making it worse!” You just grinned, “I swear, next time I see you, I’m showing you everything I can do when I’m not just a head.” He hissed.

“Looking forward to it, Bugs.”

“At this rate, I’m gonna have to tell Pinocchio to pick up the fuckin pace.” Buggy glowered, yelping as you flicked his ear.

[luveline]

Hi id love to send u a request but I just can't match your genius mind, id looooveee more zombie!au Steve!!! 🥺🥺🥺🫶🏻🫶🏻 maybe smth about r or Steve almost being bitten by a geek?

hi!! thank you angel!! zombie au steve x fem!reader, 3k

"Sneaking around with your boyfriend would've been considered sort of scandalous a few years ago," you think aloud, eyes skipping over medication labels slowly. "Now it's the norm."

"We are the opposite of scandalous," Steve says. 

You push pill bottles aside to meet his eyes through the gap in the shelves. He narrows his gaze. "You know how you saw me naked, like, a week after we met?" 

Steve's glare turns playfully salacious. "Yeah?" 

"Did that make it less, uh, important? Not important. Was it less intimate for you when I was naked on purpose?" 

Steve returns his eyes to the pill bottles. "No." 

"Is that weird for me to ask you?" 

"No, that's not weird, why would that be weird?" He looks up again. His expression softens. "Don't worry, it's not weird. It's a normal question. You're wondering if I was… desensitised." 

"Yeah, exactly. Were you desensitised?" 

Trust Steve to say something snippy and then feel bad enough afterwards to immediately backtrack. There's no need for him to feel guilty because you'd known he was joking, and if he weren't it wouldn't matter to you —you know being outside of camp makes him nervous, and tightly strung. You aren't expecting him to be all smiles, especially when you're asking peculiar questions. 

"If anything," he says, his voice a murmur that evidences shy affection, "it was way more special. I knew you back to front already, but the first time you showed me you, on purpose, it was different." 

You grin at him. "Like a look don't touch scenario where you finally get to touch?" 

"I'm trying to be sweet on you." 

"What was it like?" you ask. Your smile is audible. 

"Like fucking relief." He reaches through the shelves to squeeze your hand. "You're being slow." 

You take your hand back and return to the task. You're looking for anti-seizure medication for one of the children at camp. It's an important mission and neither of you had hesitated when Joyce asked you to go, but you can't say you enjoy being out here. Talking to Steve makes things better. Easier to cope. Talking to Steve about loving him and being loved by him could make you forget a pike through the chest. 

You move to the next shelf below. 

There aren't many drugs for epilepsy. You aren't sure the child even has epilepsy, but no one has the knowledge to identify anything else. Sarah (Robin's fast friend from camp) read in her field medic journal that a seizure can be caused by lots of things, and she also said that sometimes what looks like a seizure isn't a seizure at all. What is it, then? you'd asked. 

The page was missing. 

You're working through a mental list of four drugs methodically, scanning and rescanning the labels on the bottles in the back of a pharmacy. This is the raw stuff, the kind that sometimes needs to be ground and poured into capsules with filler, so if you do find the right meds you'll also need to find a pestle and some other equipment. It's a hassle, but it's worth it completely if it helps. 

"Clonazepam," you read. You lift your head. "Steve, that's the right one, right? Clonazepam?" 

Steve's head snaps up. "Yeah, that's the last resort one. Where's that?" 

He rounds the shelves to be on the same side as you, seemingly hoping for similar medications to be in the same place. His hand drops casually to your shoulder as he bends, reading each label with a determined brow. 

"Valproate," he says, relieved, hand closing around another bottle. "Okay, two options. Thank god." 

"Do they have the side effects on the bottle?" you ask. 

Steve turns the bottle but there's no second label.

"The side effects are usually worse than the original problem," he says, frowning, "remember those migraine pills we found, the leaflet?" That's how bored you and Steve had become at one point in your isolation, you'd started reading medical pamphlets. "I'd rather have a headache than lose my sense of smell." 

"Depends on how bad the headache is. You keep looking for the, uh, the carba-Tegre one. I'll go scout the equipment." 

"Tegretol," he corrects lightly. "Carbamazepine, brand name Tegretol." 

You're impressed by his memory. He sees that, and he lifts his hand to you. Palm your way, you can see he's written the names of the medication as you'd been advised to find by one of the camp members, a retired carer who worked bedside for a lady who suffered from epilepsy. 

"Your spelling is terrible," you say. 

"Whatever," he says flippantly. You're barely ten paces away when he adds, "I love you." 

"I love you too," you say. There's no need to call. The building, this entire town, is silent. You'll hear a geek a mile away. 

You poke at dusty equipment sceptically. You don't need filler, you don't think, but it affects absorption, maybe? You're not a pharmacist nor a chemist, whoever's watching knows you didn't have time to become much of anything, you're just doing as the retired carer advised. There's a press contraption with what feels like hundreds of caplet sized holes toward the front. You put it in your bag and lament its weight as you search for a pestle. 

"I've found the filler," Steve says. "There's a huge container of it. Lactose. And another of starch."

"Starch, like potatoes? We could put her medicine in mash potato."

"I think we just need a pestle and a weighing scale now. And some hand sanitiser." 

"I'll have the scales and the sanitiser, what about Robin's deodorant?" you ask. 

"At the front. I'll get it. You'll have another one?" 

"Please tell me they have that Carribean Crush one again, it was lovely." 

"You're lovely. I'll find it." 

The weighing scale must get its name from how ridiculously heavy it is. That along with the pestle has your bag feeling like a boulder attached to your neck. Maybe Steve will be willing to share the load with you. Actually, there's no need for maybe. If you tell him, he'll carry it with you happily. 

You scan the room for useful things. Batteries, food, things you've trained your eye to pick out of a bomb site if necessary. You pocket a pen for Steve and leave the rest where it lays, stepping out into the slightly bigger medications room before rounding a plexiglass wall to the pharmacy counter. Steve crouches down the aisleway, rejected roll-on deodorant on the floor beside him. 

You're about ten feet away from him when the geek lunges for him. 

You can't even tell it's a geek at first, it moves quickly, quietly, smooth as a living human. They've become diverse as the infection thrives, and you should've been thinking about that fact. You should've been standing at the front of the room. 

You freeze. You freeze and you waste time. 

"Steve!" you shriek. 

Steve's flat on his side, kicking with the entire force of his body. The geek actually bounces back with the force of each kick, but he's persistent, and stronger than he should be, a mottled hand on Steve's shoulder and decaying teeth snapping with a sound like cracking marble near his face. Steve tries to scramble from under the geek and its face falls down by Steve's ribs and upper arm. He yanks his arm away, and there's an odd ripping sound. 

You run so fast down the aisle to protect him that you can't slow, the entire weight of your body and the heavy bag you carry throttling the geek with a horrid slap against the glass door. It flies open and you topple out onto asphalt, sliding across the geek's body and taking the brunt of your rolling in your hands and the top of your face. Steve shouts a war cry and barrels after you. You go on knees, hands trembling and rushing as you grab for the knife in your belt. Steve lands on top of the geek and drives the blade of his pen knife straight into the crease between its brows, grunting as he goes, his breath coming too fast. 

You've clipped your head on the floor, the warmth of blood trickling down your brow. It doesn't concern you. 

What concerns you is the sizable tear in Steve's coat. 

He almost cuts you with his knife as you run at him, yanking the sleeves of his coat and jacket down. 

"What– what are you doing?" he asks. You tug at his sleeve like you've been possessed, panic a coil that won't loosen in your throat. "What–?" 

If he's been bitten, you'll have to saw his arm off. It's the most horrible thing you can think of, hurting someone you love, hurting the one person you love most. Your breath is half sob as you finally get his outerwear off of his arm. You don't know how to do that to somebody and especially Steve, how could you ever sever a limb? But if it will stop the infection, if it would save him—

You push the long sleeve of his t-shirt up his arm and stare down at his arm. Bruised near the wrist, pale, threaded with dark-green veins, his skin is unbroken. He hasn't been bitten. 

You pull his arm to your chest and almost break down there in the street. Steve stands with his coat hanging off of his one shoulder and doesn't respond to your actions for a long, heavy second. 

"You thought it bit me," he says. 

Your breath catches. 

"It didn't bite you." 

"No," he says, "it didn't bite me." 

"Your coat." 

Steve pulls you back inside of the store. He looks around the room twice, and then leads you to an empty corner to hug you. 

You're frenetic and frantic at once, hands sliding up and down his arm, eyes tracing his light skin like an injury might materialise. 

"It didn't bite me," Steve says, "but you're bleeding." 

You hiss as his fingertip locates your cut forehead. It must be a very small cut considering how little it bled. You've had head injuries that wept for hours, leaving you dizzy and disorientated from the subsequent lack of blood. This one's a wimp. 

You've also seriously hurt your shoulder from the backpack's weight and your small skirmish. You're not going to tell him that, not now, not when you've been dropped face first into the horror of potentially losing him forever. 

Steve eases out of his jacket. He takes your hand from his arm and pushes both sleeves up, bearing both arms in front of you. 

"It didn't get me, honey. Try to calm down." 

He says it softly, with no judgement or condescension. Only concern. 

"I'm fine," you say. 

It's strangled, you'll admit. Steve turns his arms to show you both sides before he tilts your head up and toward the meagre filtering sunlight, analysing your head injury in detail. 

"Did you hurt yourself? When you fell, did it feel like you hit it hard, or was it something sharp?" You don't answer, and he gets snippy. "Y/N, tell me. Did it hurt?" 

"Steve, you're the one who almost got bit." 

"And you're the one who almost died of a fucking concussion not that long ago, in case you forgot. Sit down. I'm not kidding, sit down." 

You blink, mildly startled by his hissing, and sit on the ground. He's being snappy because he's panicking, that's all it is. You hold back an unhelpful comment that your concussion had been months and months ago, so it kind of was long ago. 

He lets his coat and jacket fall to the floor and jogs back up the aisle to the bandages and gauze. He takes a detour for antiseptic, and then he sets himself down in front of you. 

"Did you hit it hard?" he asks. 

You shake your head. 

He doused a piece of gauze in antiseptic. "Sting," he warns, washing the length of your forehead with his makeshift wipe. He quickly swaps the bloodied one for a clean one. "Hold this." 

You hold it. He gets back up, scouring the shelves by the bandages until he plucks out a small box. He crushes it with his hand and the medical tape inside falls into his waiting palm. He sits again, tears two strips, and lines the edges of your gauze with them. It would all be much easier if they had big band-aids. 

"Show me your pupils, baby," he says. 

Steve, for his street smarts and survival skills, used to freak out about injuries. But Steve freaking out freaks you out and he guessed that soon enough, so every cut and bruise these days is met with a silent approach. It's the opposite of your reaction. Embarrassment starts to creep in. 

You widen your eyes and let Steve check your pupils. 

"Same size," he says. 

"It's just a cut." 

Steve shuffles across the floor so his thigh is pressed to yours, rather than having his back to the store. He breathes out slowly, breathes in quick, and then forces the bottom of his palm into his thigh cruelly. 

"How the fuck did that happen?" he asks. If he weren't being hyper vigilant, he'd be scrubbing his eyes in a tell tale nervous tic. "We haven't had something like that in months. We swept this whole place when we came in, where the fuck was he hiding? I feel sick." 

"You do?" you ask, terrified. 

"It didn't bite me," he assures you again. Thankfully without any annoyance. 

"It ripped a chunk out of your coat with its teeth. Forgive me for thinking your skin was less hardy than pressed plastic." 

Your acidity shocks you both. 

Things are awkward for a split second, 'cos it's difficult to feel awkward around someone who you've spent every second of the day with since you met. You feel for a moment that you could just take him by the shoulders and shake him. You love him, you could never hurt him, but he has to see sense: he doesn't understand how much you need him. Not to keep you alive, but to give you a reason to do it yourself. If he got bit, you'd die. Plain and simple. Internally first, but surely the heartbreak would murder you in the end. 

"I didn't know you were so disagreeable," Steve says. 

"I didn't know you knew a word that long."

Steve laughs, startled. You want to be mad, but you're so thankful that he's not dying and so suddenly wiped you can only laugh with him.

"I forgot how quick you are when we fight," Steve says. 

"We don't fight anymore." 

"That could be amended. Especially if you're going to get fresh with me."

"You started it." 

"I always start it." Steve flicks your shoulder."Let me see your head," he says. You turn your neck so he can see the outermost side of your head. "You swelled up like a helium balloon when you fell through that floor. It was right at the back of your head and I could tell something was wrong… This is fine. It bulged out last time." 

"It what?" you demand, pulling another rare laugh from him.

He winds down, clasping your knee. You cover his hand, and only then do you realise it's shaking.

"Steve, you almost died." 

"But I didn't die, I'm fine, and you need to stop freaking out because high blood pressure is definitely bad for a concussion. You could die yourself if you don't relax, seriously." Steve clears his throat. "Sorry, for getting heated. And thanks for knocking that guy clean off of me, what was that? You holding out on me when we wrestle? That was clean." 

"That was like, a mom's adrenaline thing. No, not 'cos I'm your mom, idiot. Loved one's adrenaline. I thought you were gonna die and suddenly I could've run for fucking gold in the Tokyo Olympics." 

"How did I get some of that? Whenever you're hurt I just feel like crying." 

"I think the crying bit comes after. Maybe if you tried getting to me quicker you'd have enough adrenaline to save me." 

He smiles before he talks, so you know it's going to be bad, "If a geek eats me during an adrenaline rush, am I a human Red Bull?"

"Okay, you have to keep an eye on the store because I need to be hugging you," you say, giving him little time to disagree as you climb on top of his lap. 

It's not comfortable nor sexy, but for once you don't care how heavy you are. You wrap your hands around the back of his neck and cradle his head, his face hooked over your shoulder so that he can still see your surroundings. He slides his hands underneath your coat and hugs you in turn. Your heart's still racing, and his hands are still shaking, but you lived. He lived. You've defeated danger for the hundredth time. 

"This really doesn't get any easier, does it?" you ask, petting his hair.  

He pats your back. "No, I don't think so. S'why I need you with me." 

"That's why I need you." 

Steve dots a quick kiss against the column of your throat. When he puts his chin back atop your shoulder, it's with a heaving sigh. 

"I can't believe you almost got bit," you say. 

"Yeah, well. Nobody has any manners anymore." 

[ninesbey0nd]

Forbidden Waltz | Kang Yeosang

SYNOPSIS. Your university is quite well renowned for its creative and abstract programs, so it was no surprise that the majority of the students were pursuing a profession in arts. There was a focus in art, film, dance, drama, music, you could go on. These departments, however, enforced an unspoken, exclusive clique social norm. You never understood it. Thus, the student body was quite split based on their major.

PAIRING. Dance Major! Yeosang x Art Major! Reader (afab)

GENRE. enemies to lovers, mutual pining, edgy Yeosang, smut, Dom! Yeosang

WARNINGS. Profanity, NSFW, bullying themes, unprotected sex (wrap ya willy!), penetrative sex, fingering, oral (giving) semi public sex (?)

if you wanna be added to my tag list lmk! :) <3

Reqs are open!

Ever since freshman orientation, you remembered that one man’s stupid fucking face

Kang Yeosang

He was one of the most talented dancers to enter the university's program, being consistently scouted and recruited from various labels and companies

Despite this, he never paid attention to any of the offers he received

He would always gloat about how he valued the college experience more than putting himself out there for fame

You couldn't stand him. He was so full of himself.

Sure, you would admit that he was good-looking. Maybe more like exceptionally good-looking, but you would never admit that aloud

He already had the entire student body whipped for him. Not only was he phenomenal at dance but he had a charismatic personality as well

He was a magnet for people, that was for sure

quickly climbing the social hierarchy at the school, and of course, being in a completely different field of study had the two of you barely seeing one another

which was a good thing, you thought

You didn't know what it was, but something about him really bothered you

He always presented himself as a model student, he wouldn’t take anything less than perfect

In addition, he seemed to have no qualms with anyone, including departments outside of dance

He was odd, that was for sure

You swore this kid was some sort of machine from what you heard about him, it seemed too good to be true

And you were right

You have to walk past the dance department to reach your section of the art building

A practice room door is cracked open and you hear someone… punching a wall?

You poked your head in and saw none other than Yeosang slumped against the mirror, head held in his hands

“I fucking hate this goddamn school I hate all these annoying ass dickheads I can’t wait to get the fuck out of here.”

Holy shit.

Mr. Perfect wasn't so perfect anymore

You were lost in your own wave of thoughts until you noticed Yeosang looking directly at you, eyes narrowed to points

“What the fuck do you want?”

He is not having it.

Who does this art nerd think they are? invading his practice room like it's some kind of open house.

“Get the fuck out,” he pulled himself upward and took a few steps toward the door where you stood

Your lips flatten into a tight line. “Sorry, sorry I’m going—,” You pulled yourself away from the door and slammed it shut

Fuck.

He was not happy.

You knew the power he held on campus too

Anxiety hit you like a bus.

What if he told people that you were a creep?? What if he got the art department to turn on you??

You vigorously shook your head, praying that nothing would come from that interaction

boy were you wrong

You swore you never saw this man on campus and now suddenly you see him everywhere??

Wherever you go— the library, dining hall, and in the unfortunately shared building between art and dance — he is always right behind you

It got to a point where you would purposefully show up early or late to places to avoid spotting the all-too-familiar brunette.

That was until he had you cornered in your art room.

“What are you doing here?” You spun around, dropping the brush in your hands and nearly kicking your easel over

“You don’t belong here—“

Yeosang slammed the studio door behind him, rattling your art supplies on the table.

You nearly jumped a foot into the air

“What the fuck!”

He simply folded his arms over his chest and leaned his body against the doorframe.

“I thought it’d do you well to have a taste of your own actions,” He yawned, his gaze followed your movements in an almost predatory manner.

“Are you serious— it was a mistake! I never meant to go into your dumbass dance studio,” you scoffed, returning your focus to the painting in front of you.

As you swiped your brush across the textured canvas, doing your best to avoid the pair of eyes burning into the back of your head, you failed to notice a shadow looming over your figure.

“Hmm, maybe you are talented after all.” Yeosang’s breath fanned across the nape of your neck, tickling your skin softly.

You leaped out of your seat, tripping and nearly knocking everything over in front of you had you not saved yourself on a nearby counter.

“Seriously Yeosang, get out.” You hissed with disdain. “I can’t focus on getting anything done when you’re—“

He advanced toward you, step by step.

You hadn’t realized how close he had gotten to you until your back hit the edge of the counter.

shit

His hands caged you against the table and you felt him tilt his head down toward you

"Hm?" His eyes raked down your body as his head leaned to the side

“Whats wrong artsy?” He wore a shit eating grin displayed across his lips.

“Yeosang Im not playing around right now I need to—!”

You were cut short as his lips crashed against yours. His hands moved from the counter to your waist, pulling you impossibly closer to him.

You found yourself frozen, before you melted into his touch.

What has gotten into you?

He pulled away for a split second to take a breath, his gaze resting on your lips.

“I didn’t take you as a rule breaker,” He chuckled lowly, his hand traveling to the side of your waist.

You hated to admit it, but something inside of you was actually enjoying this.

A dance and art student?? getting together?? never heard of.

Let alone in the middle of an art studio.

“Yeo—“

His hands gripped your sides and he lifted you onto the counter, boxing you in with his arms.

“Hmm?” He looked up at you, his eyes flashing with mischief.

“We’re in an art atudio,” you hesitated, shifting your weight around.

“And?” He leaned forward, causing you to lean backward on your hands.

“I— Isn’t this a little much?” Your eyes darted around the room, inspecting the entrances and windows.

“Not if we make this quick,” Yeosang grins up at you.

His hands make their way down to the waistband of your bottoms. His eyes meet yours, waiting for any hesitation or uncertainty.

“Y—You can.” You managed to sputter out, turning away from his gaze.

Despite looking away you could practically feel him smirking.

His fingers dipped up under your shirt, the tips of his fingers grazing over your waist before dipping down and hooking onto your waistband.

You lift yourself up slightly, allowing him to better remove the article of clothing.

“That’s my girl,” he cooed, slipping your bottoms off your ankles before tossing it aside.

“Yeo,” you whispered in a hushed tone, squeezing your fists beside you.

What a tease.

His fingers travel down your stomach to the innermost part of your thighs, tracing delicate patterns along your skin.

You whined in response, tensing your legs together as if to create some sort of friction.

His hands continue kneading your thighs until you feel a finger graze your slit.

You let out a soft moan in response, eliciting a pleased hum from Yeosang.

He teases your entrance, spreading your arousal around before plunging a finger inside of you.

You let out a soft moan, “Yeo—“

Your voice catches in your throat when he starts pumping in and out of you, curling his finger upward with his movements.

Your hands fly to grip the table beneath you and you stifled the sounds that threatened to escape past your lips.

He slips a second finger inside you, his movements quickening with each stroke.

He grins up toward you, a seemingly sweet face in contrast to what his hands were doing to you.

“You’re gonna have to be quiet if you don’t wanna get caught,” he leaned over you before sliding his fingers out of you and guiding you off the counter.

His hand caressed the side of your face before he began to lower the waist band of his pants.

You slowly sunk to your knees, your hands over taking his to lower his pants down beneath his hips.

All that was left was his boxers, and you could practically see the outline of his hard on

Your fingers hooked into the waistband of his boxers before sliding them down his thighs

Holy fuck

You wrap your fingers around his length, stroking him a few times before you engulf him with your lips

He lets out a low groan of satisfaction, his hand traveling down to cup your cheek

You began bobbing your head down his length, and Yeosang’s head lulled back

“You’re doing so well for me,” he whispered, looking down at you to meet your gaze.

Your eyes met his as you kept up with your pace

Yeosang fisted your hair, guiding your head down his length when a sharp knock to the door alerted you both

You pulled away from him immediately, scrambling backward to put distance between the two of you

The door handle jiggled, and to your relief it had been locked

Yeosang chuckled silently, his gaze shifting from the door back to your form on the floor

“What, did you think I’d be so careless?”

“Now, let’s get back to where we left off.”

[fir-fireweed]

Happy women’s day Fir! From one gal to another, you inspire me soo much. I don’t know how you do so much😭😭 friendly neighbourhood anon here to say that you help motivate me to write when I otherwise doubt myself, and also to beg for Corinne crumbs😭🙏🙏 can’t wait to meet her! I know male ro’s typically tend to be the more popular ones in if’s, but I’m a big fat lesbian and always had my eyes set on her, lol!

I hopped on the viatica train kind of late, like maybe chapter 8-9? Just came to say that what you’re doing is awesome and that I love your writing! Hope you’re feeling well rested and replenished always, but especially today!

Sorry if this seems all over the place😭 it’s late for me and I’ve had a busy day (fell off a trampoline and got folded in half??? That was an interesting experience) but I wanted to send this before I chicken out again, lol. I’m usually super nervous about interacting with my fav IF authors, but you’ve always seemed super sweet and patient, so I swallowed my anxiety for this ask this time. Have a great day/night Fir!❤️

This was the best ask to wake up to, thank you! Happy women’s day to you, too, my friend!

First, I hope you’ve recovered from the trampoline! 😨 And second, thank you for your kind words! It is truly touching to hear I’ve inspired you, I’m honored. These kinds of asks motivate me, too, and I’m grateful you reached out. ❤️

Now for some Corinne crumbs! I’m so glad you like her, she’s really fascinating and so layered, I’m very excited to write her. She has one of the more dramatic backstories, so a lot of details may be too spoilery, but let’s see. 🤔 She had 2 dads and was raised in a loving home. Her fathers were both contes (counts), stripped of their nobility for having loved outside the “expected norm.” So while Corinne was born noble, she grew up as a commoner, and raised in a happy home with all the love her fathers could give. She plays chess, loves snow and cold weather, and will put her life on the line to save any member of the Resistenza (Resistance) no matter their rank or class.

Chapter 2 is almost complete, so you’ll soon be able to meet this wonderful and complex woman yourself! Thank you again for reaching out, it made my day!

[toto-the-cactus]

Like the Primarchs, which of their daughters would be friends and which won't get along with their cousins?

I love this kind of asks because it gives me the chance to play a bit with these supposed daughters and the already existing OCs that other creators have.

In addition, these are the rightful creators of some of the OCs I used for this:

Garm: @candyswirls

Callahan: @jaghatai-khock

Lilith: @staticymaticyyourlifeisatravesty

Medea and Cornix: @meangreennunseen

Olyssia: @thornsorcery

Kataryna: @thethronezone

If I missed any tagging let me know so I can correct it, yall uwu

-°-

First and probably the most predictable one have to be the daughters of Leman and Lion. Eireen is the dream child when it comes to discipline, duty and responsibilities but that left her with any social capacity stunted for life. It’s almost like any other astartes: put them out of their comfort zone (aka: war and battle) and they become completely clueless. Enter Garm here, who comes from a childhood where forming bonds is the norm among her family (tho not exactly in the most conventional way). They start off badly mostly because Garm's form of socializing involves roughhousing, biting and so on which, in Eireen’s eyes, looks mostly like taunting but worry not because as time passes, they get better mostly because the daughter of Lion finds on Garm both a strong supporting friend and someone that listen to her as herself and not some effigy of expectations put on her shoulders. It’s pretty much that meme of the “they asked for no PICKLES!”. Garm is the stronger and assertive personality of the two when socially speaking while Eireen is the “think before acting” voice between them which makes for the perfect combo to the absolute chagrin of Lion and the amusement of Leman and Callahan.

Funny enough, the most sociable of the daughters are two and one of them is none other than Mortarion’s daughter (which I will finally name as Bellis) and Horus’ daughter (Tahmina). The former because she has the personality of her mother and the last one because of her father. Bellis gets along practically with anyone and you’ll hardly see her being mean or outright hateful which makes her the perfect moderator with her other cousins that don’t get along that well. ‘Mina on the other hand is quite charismatic like her father and therefore knows how to get along flawlessly with her other cousins, tho she lacks the patience Bellis has so sometimes you can see her getting a bit more expressive on her annoyance when reaching her last nerve.

Medea (Magnus’ daughter) does try to get along with most of her cousins but you can’t win all battles. Being as much of a nerd as her father, sometimes she comes off as a ‘know-it-all’ by accident when just wanting to share information like any kid that found a new hyperfixation and that’s exactly why Daphne (Fulgrim’s daughter) is kinda abrasive towards her. It kinda gets better over time, but considering that Daphne grew up knowing the backstabbing tendencies that noble people have, she got a bit too many bad habits from them and she is always expecting the worse from others so that’s why she doesn’t let that many of her cousins to get that close to her.

Olyssia (Roboute’s daughter) gets along incredibly well with Medea mostly thanks to the rants they can get between each other. They would share their favorite books and get together to talk about them and do it again and again. It's kind of sweet and sometimes the parents of both girls would organize play dates even if they are too big for such things.

The children of Perturabo hardly get together with their cousins but the few instances they actually do, it’s a bit awkward being around them mostly because they work as a tight circle. The one usually speaking for her siblings as the ‘outside diplomat’ is Kleonike, who is the most pleasant of her siblings and the one that likes to meet more of her relatives. It’s not that much their fault since they were raised in a way that they could only count between each other and anyone outside their little siblinghood can be unwelcoming or even be weirded out by them. They grew up only being friends with their own siblings and never interacted with other children because of their father so they pretty much don’t feel comfortable having to socialize with their cousins too BUT! but when comfortable enough, you’ll see a few of them getting a bit chummy with those that share their same passions. Here a few of them per age order (oldest to younger):

Kleonike: gets along very well with both Medea, Olyssia, Daphne and Eireen. By default, likes to spend time for peace’s sake with Bellis or ‘Mina.

Melitta: the shy kid of her siblings. She rarely gets separated from her sister Charis, but in the rare instances she does, she is found around both Garm and Eireen. Loves her cousin Bellis as she is the one that teaches her about her passion for gardening. You’ll also see her doing some parallel play with Cornix (Corvus’ daughter) as they both rejoice in the comfort of having someone as company but… silently.

Charis: temperamental to a fault. She admires her papa so much that she wishes to emulate him (concerning) but she also has her siblings to reel back some of the bad personality traits that Perturabo had. Sadly, just because Perturabo said so, Charis doesn’t like Dorn’s children. It doesn’t matter that she never even started a conversation with any of them, she’ll just avoid them as much as possible. Over time, she’ll be forced to interact with them and eventually realize that they have a lot in common to the point where she gets flustered to admit that she considers them her friends too.

Maximus: as he became an astartes of his father’s legion, he rarely had any time to spend with anything resembling a friend that weren’t his sisters. Because of his really low self-esteem, I see this guy getting along pretty well with those that welcome him with everything and flaws such as ‘Mina, Bellis, Olyssia, Medea, etc. Probably not much with Garm and Eireen as both can be a bit too much for his quiet personality and Daphne can sometimes hurt with her words without realizing it. On the other hand, Cornix is probably his perfect match when trying to find a friend among his family.

Timo: too young to remember a lot of her cousins and the baby sister of all her siblings, so she is constantly being coddled by them.

Just like Bellis and ‘Mina, the daughter of Vulkan is quite the social butterfly. Loves spending time with all of her family but she gets particularly well with the children of Ferrus, as they share similar hobbies regarding blacksmithing. Funny enough is that she tries her best to make most of her cousins get along like your usual moderator but more often than not, she tries to include Kataryna (Konrad’s daughter) too to the social circle. You’ll always see her trying her best to be friends with her even if sometimes the dark humor of the mini Night Hunter gets a bit too much for her.

Kataryna had a hard time understanding social cues since at first the Primarch had quite the fear for anything bad to happen to his daughter, so developing proper ways to bonding with people were limited to her mother and father. She hit it off easily with Garm as roughhousing and biting are similar ways that she understood about socializing. Vulkan’s daughter is pretty much one of the few of her cousins that doesn't get too uncomfortable easily by her dark sense of humor and can withstand a ‘love bite’ from her without problem.

It’s expected that the children of Ferrus and Fulgrim would get along but ironically, they are so opposite from each other that eventually they fight more often than not. There aren’t a lot of things that the kids can share to have some peace, unlike the Primarchs that had a common ground when regarding their goal of achieving ‘Perfection’. That doesn’t happen with their kids, as they have too many diverting opinions about hobbies or, hell, even war strategies. (I’ll leave this one open for more interpretations so yall can put ideas here<3)

Lilith (Sanguinius’ daughter) does try to get along with plenty of her cousins and she’s good at it most of the time. The few times some of her relatives avoid her are mostly (as an example) Eireen, who simply has this animal sixth sense of perceiving nearby danger. Daphne, on the other hand, loves doing dress up with her cousin since she has the extra work that are her wings to get more creative with her attempts to make her look even more beautiful.

Angron’s daughter is a tough tooth among her relatives mostly for her own hard upbringing. It’s not like she lacked love, but she had a hard time understanding how to express that emotion when she only had her father and mother as examples of that. The one that gets her the best is Kataryna, only followed closely by Garm and Eireen. It’s kinda angsty but sometimes Eireen and Angron’s daughter bond over the trauma their parents have put them through. She doesn’t like Daphne mostly because she can’t find a common ground with her just like with Lilith and Olyssia. It’s not outright hate but simply that she feels uncomfortable among them, like a fish out of water.

Dorn’s daughter can be a bit more expressive than her father but at the end of the day, she also has a predilection for practicality. She likes spending time with the cousins that very much wouldn’t bring unnecessary drama or stress. Of course, that doesn’t mean she is outright rejecting those that wish to be amicable towards her. The perfect picture of a diplomat, probably even better than her cousin Kleonike (which is another match into the fuel that is Perturabo’s competitive ass). If this girl had someone ask her who she likes spending most time with, that would be Charis (share some similar hobbies) and Olyssia (loves discussing better ways to improve paperwork).

Alpharius and Omegon’s daughters are simply those twins in The Shining. Everyone is too unnerved to even get close to them.

-°-

'Bit late but here it is, yo!

Let me know if I missed some so I can add them later <333

Kisses!! Bye!