#uh hopefully the description is good
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atvie · 2 years ago
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wh0reforcoriolanussnow · 1 year ago
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hiii, could you write something about Tom meeting his celebrity crush ( he also maybe said it in an interview) at the Museum Gala? She is a big actress ( maybe did house of the dragon or something). She thinks he is super hot and she has seen the new hunger games movie, so she kinda flirts with him because she knows she is his celebrity crush and he is a nervous wreck. Eventually they start going out and end up dating! Just something about another British Tom manifesting his life LMAO
could you also add some insta posts ? I love this kinda of au! I hope you like this idea
lots of 💋 t!
And They Meet || Tom Blyth x actress!reader
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A/n: love love this request ty anon 😙
Warnings: none!
Wc: 1,232
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Dividers by @pommecita
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“Do you have a celebrity crush?” The question caught Tom by surprise as he chuckles, his fingertips tapping on his chin. “I do actually, uh Y/n Y/l/n.” He admits for the first time on camera.
“I watched House of the Dragon the moment it came out and I just fell in love with how she portrayed Alicent Hightower, truly one of the greatest actresses at such a young age,” He smiles like a mad man as he recalls the time he first saw her on screen.
The gorgeous green coloured dress you would wear looked heavenly, and of course, your impeccable acting drew his attention. He binge watched the first season over and over, a smile adorning his lips everytime you would bless his screen with your beauty.
“Have you met her Tom? She’s a lovely person in real life.” The brunette sighs, “Unfortunately I have not, soon hopefully, soon,” He crosses his fingers as he lets out a low chuckle before moving on.
~
You watch with a grin on your face the interview that mentioned you. After Tom revealed that you were infact, his celebrity crush, you couldn’t help but feel like a giddy high school girl.
The thought that the Tom Blyth took a fancy towards you was mind blowing, especially since you’ve watched him from afar and admired him for quite some time now. You remember you first saw him on Billy the Kid and thought he was exceptional, and quite attractive.
“You think he would be at the museum gala next month?” You lift your head to Ally, your manager as she thinks. “Most likely, why’s that?” She smirks at you as you roll your eyes jokingly. “Nothing, nothing, just wondering,” You put your hands up in defence.
“Okay you have 10 minutes left,” Ally looks at her watch. You were at The Kelly Clarkson Show about to be interviewed about the upcoming season of the House of the Dragon.
~
“Y/n, do you have a type? If so, I think your fans would like to know, don’t you?” Kelly winks to the crowd as they erupt into laughter, including yourself. “Physical wise? Most definitely tall, brunette, blue eyes, a nice smile-“ “That sounds a whole lot familiar to a guest I just had a couple days ago….” Kelly teases as your eyes widen.
“Really?” A nervous chuckle leaves your lips, “Yeah, a Mr Tom Blyth happens to fit that description. I also know he mentioned you as his celebrity crush just the other day,” You play with the ring on your finger as you look at Kelly as if it was new news to you.
“Did he really?” You couldn’t help the smile off your face, “I watched the movie the day it came out and I understand the girlies who were rooting for Coryo,” You fan yourself jokingly, “truly understand.” The crowd cheers as you laugh. “I mean, I’m willing to ignore the red flags because he’s just so incredibly good looking!” You were lowkey fangirling.
“I know right!” Kelly agrees, “Tom did such a fantastic job playing young Snow, he really charmed us all,” You grin.
~
“Do you think she’s going to be at the gala?” Tom lifts his head up, the interview of you at The Kelly Clarkson Show displayed on his phone. “She should be,” His manager says as he smiles to himself, his eyes redirecting to his phone as you continue to talk about House of The Dragon.
Truth be told, after her let the entire world know that your his celebrity crush, he had been basking in the many comments saying how good the two of you would look together. It boosted his ego for sure.
He was hoping he’d finally be able to see you tonight at the museum gala and feed fans content. The second Tom set foot the gala, his eyes wandered around, hoping to see a glimpse of you. "Are you looking for someone Tom?" An interviewer calls out as he chuckles whilst posing for the photographers. "Yes actually," He responds with a shy smile.
Then, he hears loud screaming coming from the entrance as everyone in the gala turns their head towards the noise. And in you walked. Tom was standing in the red carpet section along with other celebrities as you walk towards his way, waving at the cameras along the way.
You wore a beautiful black gown, your hair in curls as the cascade down your back. Tom didn't even realise but he was staring at you, his mouth slightly agape, entranced by your beauty.
Cameras take photos and videos of Tom's reaction to you, it was quite cute. A man who finally got to see his celebrity crush in front of his eyes. Little did he know, you were looking around, hoping to find him.
Your eyes look around the place before you spot Tom, a few metres away from you as your eyes lit up. Abandoning your spot where you were posing for the cameras, you picked up the fabrics of your dress with the help of your assistants and made your way over to him.
It took a few seconds for Tom to realise that you were walking towards his direction. "Tom!" You greet him, going in for a hug as if you had known each other for years. He was slightly taken back but nonetheless hugs you respectfully. "How are you, darling?" He says as you pull back.
The pet name making you blush as you grin at him. You always knew Tom's eyes were blue, but jesus, you didn't realise just exactly how blue they are from up close. "I'm great now that I've finally met you," You chuckle, your hand gripping his bicep as he bites his lip lightly, smiling at you.
"Your eyes are really blue," You blurt out as he laughs, "I get that a lot," "Y/n! Tom! Can we get a picture of the two of you please?" Paparazzi calls out as you and Tom make eye contact, not realising how close your faces were before quickly looking away shyly.
"May I?" He says to you, asking if he could put his hand on your waist. What a gentleman. "Of course," You grin at him as he snakes his arm around your waist, his hand resting on your hip as your arm wraps around his waist.
The two of you looked good, good together. Throughout the night, you and Tom couldn't get away from each other. He was always by your side, even when you were doing interviews, and vice versa. His hand would rest on the small of your back protectively as you two navigated your way around.
Even at the dinner, he was coincidentally seated beside you which made you happy. You even recorded a video for your Instagram story about it and tagged him. The two of you hit it off straight away, exchanging numbers and even planning to meet up in a couple of days.
Being each other's celebrity crush blossomed into even more. Tom asked you to be his girlfriend after a few weeks of seeing each other and fans were going crazy, saying how he manifested it. You and Tom as a couple received so much support from everyone, including those in the acting industry saying how much of a talented young couple you were.
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akawifeyy · 3 months ago
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lemonade | fic (DR3)
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description: as much as he would miss the high-stakes lifestyle of formula 1, daniel ricciardo is ready to start fresh. and the perfect start seems to be in his hometown, where a little girl is running a lemonade stand.
tropes: meet-cute, happy ending, lemonade stand au!, single mum!reader
face claim: none
trigger warnings: mature content (!!), swearing
| note: i love dr3 soooo much y'all, i hope i did him justice 🫶
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It all started with the lemonade stand.
A young girl, probably five or six years old, with curly brown braids tied up in pink ribbons, was standing by its side. She stood at attention like a miniature soldier, her eyes watching the street for potential customers.
The hand-painted sign swinging from the top read "Leia's Lemonade Stand" in blocky yellow writing, and a giant beaker of the refreshment was perched on the counter.
Daniel was intrigued. He patted his pockets, looking for any spare change, and found a wad of bills. "Hey," he greeted the little girl, who looked up at him with owlishly large eyes. "I'd like to buy some lemonade? One glass, please."
She beamed, dashing behind the counter to hand him a cool glass filled with sugary yellow liquid. "That'll be two dollars!"
"Here you go," Daniel said, counting out the money and leaving her some extra change, handing it to her. "Thank you for your service."
As Daniel was turning to leave, you walked up to the girl, who was your carbon copy, just a decade or two younger. You were her mother, Daniel assumed. "What do we say, Leia?" you asked, a proud smile evident on your face.
"Thank you and you're welcome!" Leia chirped.
Daniel took a sip of the cool refreshment, sighing in contentment. "This is delicious stuff. Did she make it herself?" he asked you.
"I helped out a bit, but most of this was done herself."
He outstretched his hand. "I'm Daniel."
"Y/N," you replied, taking it. "I haven't seen you around before. Did you just move here?"
Daniel shook his head, trying to formulate an answer. "I just moved back from, uh...out of the country."
"Oh?" you inquired. "I'm jealous, I've never lived outside of Perth. My parents were born here, I was born here, and now Leia was born here. It's tradition, I guess."
He laughed. "Perth is a nice place. The rest of the world is overrated."
"At least you've experienced it," you griped.
Daniel huffed out a breath, reminiscing on his years of fast-paced travel. City after city, country after country. He never stayed in one place for long. "Yeah, I suppose so. Have you really never been outside of Perth?"
You lowered your head, self-conscious. "I mean, I've visited Melbourne for a weekend girl's trip, but my life has been pretty busy ever since I had Leia. And her father...doesn't help out."
Daniel's attention sparked at the mention of Leia's father. "Is he around?"
You twisted your lips in consternation. "He's alive, but he skipped town shortly after Leia was born. Said he was destined for greater things, or some shitty statement like that. I don't remember, and frankly, I do not care. Leia and I get on just fine."
Daniel grinned. "I can tell." He set the glass back down on the counter, and Leia picked it up, putting it under the stand to be washed and cleaned later. "Thanks for the lemonade. Keep up the good work, hm?" he said to her, and she gave him two enthusiastic thumbs-up.
"I'll see you around?" you asked, hopefully in a casual tone.
Daniel nodded, giving you a cheesy wink. "Of course."
Two days later
The doorbell rung half past noon, and you checked the peephole to see who was there. Daniel. He was shifting nervously, wringing his hands out. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" you greeted him, stepping aside so he could enter the house.
"I was wondering if I could get another glass of the lemonade? Leia's done an amazing job with it."
You sighed sorrowfully. "We're all out, sorry. Leia has just started school again, so we haven't continued the business. Maybe we'll make some more during the weekend?"
Daniel pouted. "That blows. I've been looking for a way to talk to you again."
"Sorry." You shrugged one shoulder, and then you realized what Daniel had said. "Pardon me, what did you say?"
Daniel's eyes widened, his face reddening with embarrassment. "Uh, I was hoping to chat with you a bit? If that's alright? I don't want to intrude."
You shook your head, leading him into the living room. A variety of Leia's toys were scattered about, and you bent down to pick them up and move them out of the way. "It's OK, don't worry. My job's remote, so I don't have to leave or anything. Not until two, when Leia comes home from school."
"Great," Daniel said, sitting down on the couch beside you. "I've been bored out of my mind since I've come back to Perth."
You swallowed, not exactly sure of how to respond. "Yeah? Is your past haunting you or something?"
Daniel chuckled. "Not exactly. I'm just used to a lot of hustle-and-bustle, and Perth...isn't really delivering on that."
"Where did you work?" you asked.
He fidgeted with his hands. "Er...I used to be a Formula One driver. I know, wild, but yeah. DR3." He laughed again, but this time it was dry and full of resentment.
Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Formula One? My sister's obsessed with it. Wow, that's really cool."
"Yeah, it is. But they moved on to better talent, and now I'm back here." He slouched down, avoiding your gaze.
You gently nudged his shoulder. "Well, I'm glad you've returned and that we've met."
He gave you a wan half-smile.
For another hour, you two chatted away, talking about your past, about Leia, and about your hobbies. You told him about your Star Wars obsession (aka the reason why you'd chosen the name Leia for your daughter), showing him the vintage R2D2 toy you kept on your bookshelf. In return, he told you about how he used to go fishing with his parents in Lake Monger and about some of his F1 exploits.
Eventually, the alarm you set to keep track of when to pick Leia up went off, marking the end of your conversation. "I've got to go," you apologized.
"It's no problem." Daniel waved a hand, brushing you off. "Here's my number in case you want to keep in touch?" He wrote it down on a piece of paper and handed it to you.
"Thanks," you said, flustered.
"See you around, Y/N," he said as he stepped out the front door.
Text messages between Daniel and Y/N (Takes place a week to two months after their first meeting)
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Sydney, Australia (Two months later)
"Come on, Leia," you urged your daughter as you led her through a thick crowd of people in the airport. "Don't let go of my hand."
Daniel was in front, leading you towards the exit, where a glossy crimson Ferrari was parked. "Here we go." He opened the door for you, sliding beside you and helping to buckle Leia in.
You smiled at him. "Thanks so much for inviting us."
"No problem, darling."
The pet name sent a curl of heat through your core, and you looked out the window so you wouldn't have to respond. The view was stunning: metallic skyscrapers, a bustling city center. You couldn't believe that this was what you were missing out on your whole life.
About twenty minutes later, the car stopped in front of a sleek modern hotel. You saw Daniel's mum wave at you, and swallowed roughly. You prayed that she would like you.
"Leia, be nice," you chastised her before you disembarked from the car. "Use your manners."
Leia bobbed her head up and down. "I know, Mum."
When you walked over, Daniel's mum immediately struck up a conversation with you, pulling you into a tight embrace. "I'm Grace!" she introduced herself. "And this must be little Leia." She bent down to shake Leia's hand. "You look just like her."
"Thanks," you replied. "It's nice to meet you."
Grace put her hand on her heart. "Danny's told me all about you. I'm happy to see that you're exactly as I hoped."
Your gaze whipped to Daniel, who turned even redder. One more shade, and he could pass for a bearded tomato. "Really?"
"Yep!" Grace clapped Daniel on the back. "He loves you."
You blinked, but didn't blurt anything out. "We should probably head inside."
Daniel nodded fervently. "I agree."
That night
"You want to explain to me what your mum told me?" you probed Daniel, crossing your arms over your chest.
Daniel covered his face with his hands. "Fuck, Y/N, I'm sorry. She's not a good secret keeper."
"Are you saying that she was lying?"
His eyes peeked out from behind his palms. "Do you want me to say no?"
"Tell me the truth," you scolded.
Daniel sighed and took a step closer to you. "She wasn't. Ever since I saw you at that lemonade stand, I thought you were the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen. You're funny, and strong, and independent. I want to prove to you that I won't be like the other one. I'm here to stay."
Without a second's worth of hesitation, you tugged on his shirt collar, pulling him down to your height, and kissed him. He moaned softly, his arms snaking around your waist and caging you against the wall. "Fuck, Y/N."
The kiss became more passionate as you tangled your fingers in Daniel's brown curls, and his own found the swell of your breasts underneath your shirt. "You're so perfect," he murmured softly. "Can I?"
You nodded, at a loss for words. Daniel lifted your shirt over your head, revealing the lacy pink bra you were wearing. "Fuck, I'm going to come in my pants like a schoolboy right now. My God, you're a fucking work of art."
You unbuttoned his shirt and loosened the waistband of his pants, letting them fall to the floor. Daniel picked you up, placing you on the bed. "The door's locked," he assured you when you opened your mouth. "If we're quiet, Leia won't know anything."
"Good," you whispered. "I don't want to traumatize her."
He laughed, and kissed you again on the collarbone. Carefully, he placed your hands above your head and said, "I want to have sex with you. Is that OK?"
"You don't have to ask, Daniel," you rasped.
Daniel shook his head. "Yes, I do. Consent is not a laughing matter, darling."
You expelled a breath in faux-annoyance, and he continued his mission. One slow thrust, and he was in you, filling your pussy and making you groan with pleasure. "Daniel..."
"Does it hurt?" he asked worriedly. "I'll go slower."
You twisted your head to look at him. "No, it's fine. Just...not used to this. It's been a while."
He pecked you on the forehead, his arms caressing the curves of your skin. "I won't hurt you, I promise."
He drove into you, the movements firm and sure. Soon, you felt the tidal wave of pleasure build up in you like an insistent hum. "Daniel, I'm going to..." you trailed off, the sentence ending with another moan.
Daniel kissed you on the temple, the touch exactly what you needed to tumble over the edge. "Let go for me, darling."
And so you did, the orgasm rippling over you and making you shudder with satisfaction.
He pulled out a moment later, his own orgasm succeeding yours, and he flopped down beside you, one arm wresting you closer to him. "You're stunning."
"When I'm all fucked out?" you teased.
Daniel played with a loose strand of your hair, his eyes bright with happiness. "Yep."
"You're so silly, Daniel," you poked fun at him, tapping his nose twice.
He flicked your nose, and stated the very obvious fact, "But you adore me."
Three weeks later
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Daniel clutched the bouquet of tulips in his hand, suddenly nervous. It wasn't the first time he had taken you out on a date. Hell, it wasn't even the second time. Yet each and every time, he was terrified.
You were perfect.
And he was...he was Daniel, the former F1 driver for four teams.
"Thanks for picking me up," you told him as he ushered you to his car. "I really appreciate it."
He gave you a quick kiss on the forehead. "No problem, darling."
You sat down, and then readjusted your position, feeling something poking your back. It was a box.
"Not a ring," he promised when he saw your expression. "I wouldn't have you accidentally sit on your engagement ring, darling."
You scowled at him, but popped open the top. A beautiful ruby necklace gleamed up at you, and you let out a gasp.
"It's my mother's. She wanted you to have it," Daniel told you.
"Wow, Daniel. This is...breath-taking." You hugged him.
"Just like you," he flirted, and you rolled your eyes. "It's the truth."
You extricated the necklace from the box and clipped it around your neck. "How does it look?"
"Perfect." He kissed you on the lips, one hand nestled on the crook of your jaw. "And all mine."
─── ୨୧ ─── THE END ─── ୨୧ ───
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grandline-fics · 4 months ago
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Immune To Your Charms
DESCRIPTION: Soulmates are incapable of harming the other in any way. Normally that would be a good thing but not when you're meant to be enemies.
WARNINGS: It's Doflamingo so that's it's own warning if you don't like reading fics featuring him. Soulmate! AU, Enemies to Lovers. Some descriptions of illness and death
CHARACTERS: Doflamingo
WORDS: 3,907
A/N: The next part is here and we've got some soft Doffy and in denial Doffy because lets face it the man isn't going to admit his feelings so easily. I hope you all like how this chapter turned out. I think this might be the longest chapter yet. Hopefully the next one won't have as long a wait
*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*
DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST
Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine | Chapter Ten | Chapter Eleven(here) | Chapter Twelve | Chapter Thirteen | Chapter Fourteen | Chapter Fifteen | Chapter Sixteen | Chapter Seventeen(coming soon)
——————
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Once again being soulmates had yielded unforeseen benefits- for a lack of a better term- with the way Doflamingo’s touch meant your body was incapable of feeling pain from your sickness. Doflamingo watched silently as one of the doctors approached to conduct their morning observations of your condition. The doctor, highly aware of his ruler’s intense stare, flinched when they lifted your hand into their’s, already braced and expecting your expression to contort into one of pain. He only relaxed when you continued to sleep, unbothered by the touch that would have caused you to audibly cry out in pain just hours prior. 
With a shaky breath, the doctor became a little braver and pressed their fingers against your wrist to measure your pulse. The night before, when they were first summoned to your chambers after being alerted to your illness this was something they couldn’t properly measure because of the extreme pain you were in. Now he and his colleagues could breathe a little easier, selfishly relieved their lives weren’t entirely endangered when it came to treating you now. 
“Any change?” The doctor jumped suddenly at Doflamingo’s deep voice breaking through the unbearable, tense silence.
“Uh their heart rate is still increased as we’re expecting to be the case for now. But it’s a good sign it hasn’t worsened.” They explained, swallowing the lump in their throat. Even though he was confident in his and the abilities of his colleagues, there was just no predicting how Doflamingo would take any of their statements. He could lash out quite easily and without any remorse or hesitation simply because he wanted to or because their phrasing didn’t fit with what he wanted to hear. “This long period of uninterrupted sleep has made a clear difference. When they wake we'll attempt them with something to eat-something light like broth- and if they can stomach that we’ll begin the first round of medication.”
The seconds ticked by heavily as the doctor waited for Doflamingo to make a comment on the proposed next course of action. He knew better than to prod or say anything that could be seen as forcing a response. So the doctor could only wait and continue to check over you, gently settling your hand against your body before doing another read of your temperature, knowing to monitor your fluctuating fever and chills. Still you didn’t even so much as twitch, the doctor didn't think he’d ever get used to seeing how the power of a soulmate could defy what he knew as a medical professional. “When you’ve finished, discuss an appropriate menu with the cooks and have them begin to prepare it.” 
Taking no further encouragement at his King’s finally uttered words, the doctor completed his checks and updated his notes before bowing and leaving quickly. Silently they were happy their next shift to check on your wouldn’t be until the next morning. Alone again, Doflamingo looked down at your sleeping form. With Doflamingo sitting up against the headrest, you were propped up too but sleeping soundly and unmoved since the second he pulled you into his hold. He clicked his tongue in annoyance. Annoyance that he’d acted in the moment without thinking. The image of your twisted in extreme distress flashed in his head and he turned his head away to scowl, refusing to consider the implications of his actions anymore than he’d already begun to. 
Thankfully you broke his attention by shifting in your sleep, a long lazy groan breaking from your lips as you stirred and forced your eyes to open. Doflamingo noted how exhausted you still looked but the sleep you’d managed to get without feeling pain had helped in some capacity. As you stared blankly in front of you the haze of sleep fell, confusion began to take over. Then panic. Sluggishly you tried to push the covers away and sit up fully. “Late…I’m late.” You croaked out, voice thick with tiredness and trembling with the infection still coursing through you. “Captain’s going…to kill me.”
Doflamingo tilted his head to the side curiously, you didn’t seem to realise he was there and from your sickly rambling it seemed you didn’t even know where you were. With how warm your skin felt he saw the spike in your fever was leaving you confused. He watched your feeble attempt to fight against the covers and listened to you mumble about morning drills for another few seconds before he acted. With ease he pulled the cover back to its original place and lean in so his chest was against your back a little more so he could tell you softly. “You’re on shore leave remember?”
At his voice you stopped and numbly nodded with a small hum of acknowledgement. Slowly you rolled over and slumped to lie down again, your back against his side and head resting on his bicep. While you weren’t conscious enough to know being in his hold prevented your body to feel pain, it seemed like your body now knew out of instinct that this was the only surefire solution for relief. Already your breathing had evened out to signal you were asleep but still Doflamingo could hear the tightened wheeze preventing you from taking calmer, deeper breaths like you normally would. Doflamingo glanced at the clock on the wall, already aware of the doctors’ routine with checking on you. The next would be arriving in twenty minutes, and if the previous doctor had obeyed his order then a servant would be bringing something for you to eat as well. 
In the meantime Doflamingo used his strings to pull the morning’s paper from the table into his waiting hand. Bored and in need of something to occupy his time, he slowly leafed through the pages, taking in the reports from around the world. Some stories about skirmishes made him grin, knowing he was behind the reason both sides had so much weaponry at their disposal and the bloodshed was increasing as he’d expected it to. Other stories of other pirates causing trouble and increasing their bounties made him roll his eyes at the numbers. No doubt the weaklings thought this made them big-shots in the New World but it would only be a matter of time before they ran into someone of real power to knock them down to the harsh reality of these seas. Doflamingo turned the page and paused to see a full story dedicated to the illness you were afflicted with, claiming more lives on the island you’d caught it at. His grin lessened and the vein in his head throbbed as he read through the claims that the island’s best doctors and with the aid of neighbouring islands were administering the treatments needed but for so many it was too late.
‘The cruelty of the illness is so severe to the afflicted that they physically cannot bear to be touched long enough to be treated. Meaning that so many of those that could be saved are unable to endure help from their saviours. These poor souls are meant to spend the last days of life in constant pain while also being too weakened with internal ailments to take matters into their own hands. The only saving grace in this poor report is that thankfully the illness’ source has been dealt with and the island will not suffer more of its populace to fall victim to this calamity. The island’s ruler-thankfully one of those not infected- was quoted to say “We mourn the tragic loss of life but our island will recover.”’ Doflamingo clicked his tongue harshly and discarded the paper.
————
“Just try some please.” You screwed up your face in exhausted distaste at the bowl on the tray. Your eyes stung, even with them being half-opened felt so heavy. Even blinking felt like a massive effort and you had no energy. You just wanted to sleep but the servant and doctor in front of you kept insisting on coaxing you to eat so they could give you medicine. Your gaze dropped to the vial of dark green liquid on the tray and you felt yourself gag, already anticipating the foul taste. “Just a spoonful?”
“No thank you.” You croaked out, turning your head away slightly in case they tried to force it into your mouth. You spotted the fear in their eyes at your refusal to even take a drop of the broth made specifically for you. Even with your mind clouded with the illness you knew they were doing everything they could to avoid the stare of the man you were leaning against. You knew that the reason Doflamingo was in your bed and had your body propped against him, his arm around your waist had been explained but honestly you were too weakened and drained to have really processed what the doctor had told you. All you could really retain was because he was your soulmate and that it was somehow helping. Which only left you more confused about everything. You could feel how tense Doflamingo was, impatient and silently angry. You weren’t in the mood to deal with his tantrums and taking any frustration out on a servant and doctor so you sighed.“Just leave it to the side. I’ll try later.”
While that seemed to relieve the two in front of you, your words only brought an extra note of silent displeasure from the Warlord. If you had the power to roll your eyes you would have. Instead you blankly watched the tray get moved to your bedside table. The servant retreated to the wall closest to the door, silently waiting for permission to leave while the doctor began to check over your condition. Already you were sick of being poked, prodded, and pestered like this and fussed over so intently. “Everything is about the same from the last recordings taken. I don't think we’ll see any real change until the treatment properly begins.”
“Subtle.” You remarked dryly, feeling like a child being lectured for not eating their vegetables.
“Please try to take some before the next check.” You gave no further response to the doctor, watching him and the servant finally leave. The second the door clicked closed you felt movement behind you and glared weakly as the tray as pulled back onto the bed beside you.
“I said I’d-”
“I know what you said.” Doflamingo noted far too evenly for your liking. “I also know that you lied when you said you’d try later. You’d really hurt their feelings by lying?”
“Rather their feelings get hurt than you hurt them physically.” You uttered before breaking out into a cough. Thankfully this time you felt no pain or brought up any blood but the tightness in your chest and constant action left your wheezing and breathless. When you’d recovered you glowered at Doflamingo as he adjusted you to recline back and hold a spoon of broth out to you. “Why are you doing this?”
“Because you’re too weak and stubborn to feed yourself.”
“No. This.” You barely managed to tap his arm around your waist. “Why insist I get better? Why help? This could kill me if we do nothing.” Doflamingo felt his jaw tighten as he fought to keep his expression unreadable to you. Thankfully your usual perception was dulled considerably and you failed to notice how your words got under his skin him and made him bristle. Instead he brought the spoon a little closer to divert your attention away from the question. Unfortunately your stubbornness and deep—seated need to defy him was still very much in tact. “Tell me.”
“Well I didn’t infect you did I?” Doflamingo asked smoothly, deciding to opt for an easier explanation for his actions, more for his own benefit than yours. “It’d be the same as having someone else kill you and that’s not going to happen. Happy?”
“Ecstatic.” You grumbled as you eyed the spoon hesitantly. If you gave in and tried the broth then it meant you were doing what Doflamingo wanted. Not wanting to lose to him in the strange sense of point scoring you both had you slowly looked at him, already seeing his grin appear when he could tell you were contemplating giving in and eating. Spurned on you pursed your lips slightly. “Say please first.”
“You’ve got to be joking.” Doflamingo ground out. Why did he expect that being sick would make you more agreeable. “Isn’t me holding you so you can sleep and spoon-feeding you enough?”
“You did that on your own.” You remarked with a pout, refusing to comment on how truthfully comfortable and reassured you felt against him. “You want me to eat? Say please.”
Doflamingo stared you down for what felt like an eternity. He was once a Celestial Dragon. Anything he wanted he took. Even now as Dressrosa’s king that was still the case. His every whim and wish was granted when he opened his mouth. Not once had he ever said please, or had to genuinely ask for something. Harshly he bit the inside of his mouth at the sheer absurdity of it all. Suddenly you began to cough again, this time more persistent that the previous bout that racked through your body. He glared at the sound of your worsened wheeze, no doubt because of the amount of talking and effort it was having on your body. Unwillingly he recalled the doctors telling him that your readings hadn’t changed and that  your body needed the balance of rest and nutrients to even be able to fight off the infection. Just because being in his hold meant you didn’t feel pain, it didn’t free you from the infection itself still coursing through your body and getting stronger. As you caught your breath, Doflamingo gnashed his teeth together and forced out a simple but audible. “Please.”
Surprise managed to bring a small amount of light to your eyes. Quite honestly you had expected Doflamingo to force your mouth open before even letting that one little word break from his own. Still you weren’t one to go back on your word and now having the knowledge that you made the Doflamingo Donquixote say please, made the fact you had to be spoon-fed like a baby less humiliating. Taking a breath you nodded and parted your lips, accepting the food reluctantly. 
For the entire process you were surprised to find Doflamingo didn’t rush you, simply waiting in silence for you to attempt the next spoonful offered. Even more surprising was that he seemed to know you’d reached your limit before you had to say so. The bowl was set aside and you let out a tired sigh of relief. Your relief was short-lived because immediately Doflamingo lifted the small vial of medicine and removed the topper and brought it closer. “You already used your ‘please’ so no absurd requests for this one.” 
“It’s fine…” You mumbled, more for yourself than anything else. “I’ve had awful shots in worse bars in the past…I can do this.” Doflamingo chuckled and helped tip the contents of the vial into your mouth, watching you force it down and tense as the full taste hit you. You winced and let out a shuddering breath. It wasn’t the worst thing you’d tasted in your life but even with the doctors making a clear attempt to make the experience more tolerable for you, it was clear it was medicine and nothing to be entirely enjoyed. You gratefully took a sip of water when it was offered to you and already felt the strange numbing warmth begin to spread through you from the medicine. You shifted to get comfortable and curled up, a yawn building in your chest that didn’t feel as tight as it had just a few moments ago. “You don’ have to stay…”
“Oh? You got someone else lined up to sneak in here if I go?” Doflamingo asked with a chuckle. You’d unknowingly moved your arm over his chest at the same time you told him he could go.
“Mhm…” You nodded, mind already hazy and eyes closed. “Don’ be jealous…’kay?”
“Oh I already told you I don’t get jealous, remember?” Doflamingo smirked as you sleepily laughed and forced your eyes open to briefly look at him.
“You also never said please before. First time…for everything hm?” Your sleepy triumphant smile was so endearing that Doflamingo couldn’t even get annoyed at your reminder of your getting the upper hand over him. Even if he did, you wouldn’t have heard anything because you were promptly asleep.
———
You were completely knocked out and in the deepest sleep when the doctors came by for their next check on you. They informed Doflamingo that your response to the first dose of medication was a promising sign. They explained that they’d ensured there was a good balance to assist your immune system to fight the infection, relax your airways, regulate your temperature, manage pain relief, and protect the vital organs. Doflamingo nodded in satisfaction at the report. “My King, there is something we’d like to test while they’re sleeping.” The doctor requested glancing briefly to your sleeping form still against Doflamingo’s chest. “Can you move them out of your touch? I’d like to ensure the pain relief is correct for them? We don’t want to risk them being under or over medicated in that respect.”
Doflamingo hesitated for the briefest second but relented, settling his arms around you and shifting to pass you down to lie against the pillows and climbed out of the bed. He watched silently and hands tensed, to use his strings and stop the doctor if need be. It seemed the doctor was nervous, already remembering what almost happened to her colleague the first night they tended to you. Experimentally her hand settled against yours, sighing in relief to see your fingers twitch at the contact but you gave no other reaction. your expression was kept at its calm, relaxed state as it had been while you slept in Doflamingo’s arms. “That’s promising. My King, you can leave them while they’re sleeping now should you wish? Stretch your legs or even attend to other business. They shouldn’t wake for another few hours if our assumptions are correct.” 
He nodded and offered you another glance. Immediately he felt reluctant to leave you and for that reason he forced himself to leave your quarters, needing desperately to clear his head and get away from your presence. He needed something recognisable, routine. Doflamingo headed straight for his own room and into his personal bathroom. The strong heat and stream of water from the shower helped to loosen the knots in his body and unravel some of the tension that had built in him over the course of the last few days. Between rushing home to Dressrosa from the Marine base until this moment he hadn’t let you out of his sight and had practically ignored everything else. When he was dried and changed, he made his way to the dining room, deciding to actually spend time with his family and eat while making sure to not give you a second thought, out of sheer determination to prove to himself he wasn’t in anyway concerned about you. 
“Doffy what do you think?” Doflamingo blinked in the middle of the meal, only now realising that he’d been absently looking at the time on the clock. Had he been unconsciously checking how long was left until you woke? No. He couldn’t have. He was just tired, he didn’t sleep at the best of times and the shower he had and wine he was drinking was just making him sleepy. 
“About what Diamanté?”
“We were just saying how funny the whole thing with that island is.” His elite officer said. “It’s further proof that you two are soulmates.”
“How so?” Doflamingo asked, not understanding how you getting sick was proof. Then again he’d not been listening to the first part of the conversation, a point no one at the table would point out. Doflamingo couldn’t help but think you would though. The second he slipped on anything, you would promptly call him out on it. Sharply he shoved that thought out of his head and focused on Diamanté who spoke, unfazed at having to no doubt repeat himself. 
“Well it was just a nothing little island, with nothing little criminals storing weapons for us. None of us were meant to even go there for the hand over.” He explained with an amused smile. “If I recall right we were going to send one of the middle tier pirate crews under your command to go. You decided last minute to go. If you hadn’t then you never would have encountered them and brought them here to then be treated by the doctors for that deadly infection. It’s interesting how it all played out isn’t it?”
Interesting certainly was one way of putting it and it was something Doflamingo couldn’t help but continue to consider it after dinner. He remembered now. It was just how Diamanté reminded him. A crew similar to Bellamy’s was instructed to collect the weapons and ammunition being stored at the warehouse. Then a tip came through from one of his other Marine informants that a unit was stationed at the island, waiting to strike and interfere with the operation without knowing it was his business they were sticking their noses into. He hadn’t gotten any names or further information about you or the unit. It was the vaguest report but still, Doflamingo had immediately made the decision to go there and deal with the unit himself. At the time had it been interpreted as something to entertain him. Had he been simply bored or had fate made him go? To inadvertently save your life from the sickness that was already in your system and incubating without anyone knowing? 
Harshly he rubbed his head as he walked down the halls, feeling a migraine coming on. Doflamingo reached for the doorhandles and pushed them open, stopping abruptly when he saw he’d made his way to your room instead of his own. Muttering a curse under his breath he closed the doors and stepped further inside. Silently he told himself he was only doing this until you were a little better and didn’t need the medicine. Pulling back the covers he got back into the bed and lay down beside you but knowing you were still sound asleep with the medicine in your system mean he didn’t need to touch you. Letting out a long groan, he closed his eyes and lifted his hand to press his thumb and finger against his temples. 
The slight sound of shifting fabric caught his attention, signalling him that you were shifting in your sleep. Doflamingo was caught by surprise when your body pressed against him, your head tucking into the crook of his neck. He could tell you were still fast asleep, your deep breathing the clearest sign. Everything in your movements was purely instinct, including when one of your hands lifted you lay over his head, your fingers settling over the point of his headache that immediately began to subside. As he felt himself drift asleep he began to consider that it was only fair you both benefited from the affects that being soulmates brought.
——————————————-
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Text
CODE L-O-V-E
Chapter Two: TIPI-TAP
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❥Yandere ATEEZ x fem reader
➽-❥in this chapter: With your second week of official idol work comes more practicing, the announcement of your group, bonding within the company, and more strange and heartwarming moments with your senior group. (Yunho, Mingi, Seonghwa, and Hongjoong centered.)
➯a/n: i'm having way too much fun with this story ngl 😭im glad it's been well received so far, hopefully you all like the direction i take it ! there's a cheek kiss in this chapter, place your bets 🤭
♫ "The code is L-O-V-E!" ♫
Masterlist
✫彡wordcount: 8.6k
♡'・ᴗ・'♡genre: SLOW burn yandere
ಠ_ಠwarning/content: only briefly proof read: self-doubt, anxiety, glimpse of readers past, mingi has no concept of personal space, seonghwa's oppa kink makes a cameo lmao
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➯L-O-V-E a/n: the life of a kpop idol is very public, and thus a lot of information has to be known about the reader(who is becoming an idol) but i also want all of my stories to be as inclusive as possible !! so here is the baseline information: reader is 22, no description of race or appearance in general other than shorter than hwa/yunho/mingi, from a war-torn (fictional) country, has distant relatives in korea (unspecified: related by marriage or adoption is probably the case), speaks fluent korean(as well as english and chinese), is a musical prodigy, and is generally ambi-verted and a natural leader
✩index: see comments
dialogue not spoken in korean will be italics, singing/rapping will be romanized and bold, texts or writing will be smaller.
♡ ̆̈L-O-V-E-R-S♡ ̆̈ @comicnerd557 @hon3ysun @devilzliaison @princelingperfect @ateezswonderland @queenofdumbfuckery
let the journey continue...
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MDNI WITH MY BLOG
⋆.ೃ:・간절히 FIND, FIND OUT𐦍.ೃ࿔*:・
"What are you thinking about?" Hongjoong's voice breaks your trance of staring at a wall while the crew moves around some cameras.
You had all taken your first photos together as a group, and were now anxiously and excitedly awaiting to film your first video. The set was blank save for a black backdrop, Jisu wanted your dancing to speak for itself.
You had started off the day strong, eager. But things were staring to feel real, and real was making you scared. You weren't used to others touching you, and you had spent forty minutes being dolled up by your stylist and makeup artist. You were barely used to the one or two camera that have been around to film the documentary, and there was at least five on set. You were starting to deeply doubt that you could pull this career off.
"Uh?" You blink, as if you were coming back to yourself, "oh, Hongjoong-sunbae!" You bow with a small smile, going to stand up when he waves his hand; sitting down on the floor beside you. "I was just... thinking should I use a stage name?" Maybe it would help you put on a brave face, like your stage name and you were two different people.
"Hmm, what did you have in mind?" He hums as he takes in your appearance. He thinks it might be the first time he's ever seen you in makeup, or in anything other than dance clothes.
Your outfit is cute, to match your groups concept. Each of you is in a different color, and you landed in purple. You look good in purple, he thinks.
"Uhm," you fiddle with one of the little braids throughout your hair, "I'm drawing blanks, actually."
He gives a soft laugh, and you return it with a smile. You can see why he's the leader of his group, he has a reliable aura about him. Warm and compassionate, but you once saw him gathering his members and he demanded respect. You don't know if you have that switch. Everyone around seems to already recognize you as crUSh's leader, but you think it should be anyone else.
"Hey, can I ask you something?" You ask as you stretch out your legs, careful not to scratch the shoes your stylist had you put on.
" 'Course," he nods, mirroring you.
"How did you know you would be a good leader? Everyone seems to think I'd be perfect, but I think one of my Unnies is a much better choice."
He breathes a laugh, shaking his head, "woah, you really are like a mini-Captain." You tilt your head, and he continues, "I didn't know I'd be a good leader, either. I thought it was a terrible idea! Any group leader you ask will probably say something similar — we didn't know we'd be the leader, it just happens that way. A groups dynamics just click the way they do. And you click perfectly as crUSh's leader! I've seen the way you take charge, you do it without even thinking. You're brave like that. Busting into your seniors room to take care of a member, that's a leader move if I've ever seen one!"
You suddenly feel very shy, looking down at your feet. "Thanks, Sunabe... Hopefully you're right!"
"Eh, I'm always right," he jokes, making you tilt your head back laughing while he watches with a grin. He takes out his phone from his pocket, opening up a file while you look on curiously, still smiling. "I have something to show you. Mingi sent me a clip of you singing the other day, and it inspired me."
"Really?" Your eyes widen a bit, leaning forward to hear better as an upbeat instrumental begins playing from the speaker.
He has it pretty quiet so he doesn't disturb the others on the set, so he holds the speaker towards your ear, watching as you listen with that glint in your eyes — the one he envisioned while creating the music.
When your voice from the other day joins the background, you jump a little bit; before the biggest smile ever finds its way to your lips. It's only a short clip from the video he'd received from Mingi, but since it's the chorus, it reappears a few times.
"What do you think?" He asks when it ends, and you shake your head.
"I don't know whether to kiss Mingi or slap him," you giggle, covering your face briefly, "you made that in only a few days?"
"Yeah! Usually it takes wayyyy longer, but like I said," he shrugs, "you inspired me. Your song writing is brilliant, I can't wait to see more! You'll bring some to the recording booth tomorrow, right?"
"Of course, I have some p-"
"Mèimei!" Bongcha calls for you from across the set, making you look up. She'd taken up to calling you that when she learned you know a good bit of Chinese, and you were immediately bonding like crazy because you could keep up with her ranting. "We're about to film our intro! Come lead us!"
"Oh, sorry, Sunbae," you bow to him as you both stand, "I'll see you tomorrow!"
He grabs your hand when you turn to leave, "I have an idea for your stage name."
"Huh?" You pause, looking down at your hands, which he quickly drops as he feels a blush creeping onto his cheeks. "Ah, what is it?"
"Myeongi."
"Myeongi? What does that mean?"
"Uhm, well; Myeong means brilliant, and Gi means brave, or rely on. It fits... don't you think?"
You feel heat bubbling up in your own face, "I like it."
⋆.ೃ:・널 향한 낯선 VIBE𐦍.ೃ࿔*:・
"Okay!" Jisu claps from behind the camera, making you all come up from your deep bows.
From the center, you had bowed to the crew a few moments after you finished your performance; and your members had followed.
"You guys nailed it!" A round of applause comes from around you, and you can't stop the large smile on your face as you look around your members.
You're all breathing heavily after what had been the fourth take in a row, the director wanting to get different angles. Bongcha slumps to lay on the floor, groaning loudly and throwing up a thumbs up, "thank you!"
You kick her foot with a little laugh, crouching down before falling onto your behind. The rest of the members are quickly following suit, thankful for a moment to breathe. "Thank you, ladies! That will be all the takes we need!" The director calls out, making you all cheer.
When you see the makeup artist approaching, you barely have time to be confused before Jisu explains. "We have a little bit of a challenge for you all."
We haven't even debuted yet and they're giving us variety show type challenges?
"Challenge?" Eunhwa asks as she tilts her head up for her makeup artist. You can tell the introverted member wants to be done for the day.
"Yes, more of just a little task," your manager goes on to explain as you all get touch ups done, "so your video will be going up the day after tomorrow, and that's when we will announce you as 'KQ Ladiez'. Along with your video and the introduction we filmed earlier, we'd like to post a video of each of you with your sunbaenims to get some more engagement. It's a challenge because we won't pair you off, you'll have to find a sunbaenim and ask them yourself, and decide what kind of short video you'll do together. Done by today!"
You feel Eunhwa's pain, your jaw progressively dropping more and more until your makeup artist closes it while holding back her laughs.
"Done by... today? Like this today?" Aeyoung clears her throat, clearly nervous. She, of everyone, is the biggest admirer of your senior group. She says she wants to be 'a dance machine like Yunho-sunbaenim'.
"Yup," Jisu has a grin like an evil mastermind, she wants you all to break out of your shells now that you're set in stone to debut. "Since theres a one member difference, one of you will have to do a video with two of them. Good luck!"
She's out the door before Bongcha's glare can kill her.
"Seriously...?" Yoomi sighs, "I'm nervous around our sunbaes, they're so intimidating!"
"You're nervous? Look at poor Eunhwa-Unnie!" Sunji points to her, "she's about to combust!"
"Hey, come with me," you hold her hand gently and help her up, bowing to your makeup artist before pulling your member out of the set room quickly. "While the others are trying to figure out who to ask, we can ask Yeosang-sunbae to do a video with you. He's introverted too, that'll make you more comfortable, right?"
She holds your hand tightly, nodding along with your words, "yes, thank you, Unnie..." You smile over your shoulder at her, letting her collect her thoughts as you enter the elevator, as you leave it, and as you approach their open practice room.
"Don't be nervous, Eunhwa, he's nice," you give her hand one last comforting squeeze before you knock on the open door. "Ya-hoooo~"
"Ye-ssi!" Mingi beams your way, looking up from the practice video he's monitoring with Seonghwa. "Hey, how did your first recording go?"
You gesture her into the room with you as she stalls in the doorway, "it went well! I think we really nailed it."
"That's good! What do you think, Eunhwa-ssi?"
She looks up quickly and forces a small smile through her nerves, "yeah, I think so too." You nudge her hip with yours, nodding to Yeosang; who's back to talking with San after giving you both a nod. "Ah, Unnie, he's busy, maybe I could just-"
"Yeosang-sunbae!" You call as you yank her forward, carefully smoothing your skirt before you sit. You have safety shorts on, but you still don't want to seem risqué. "Hello, San-ssi," you greet him more politely, only having spoke to him briefly.
"Hey, Huebae," Yeosang smiles, as does San, pausing their conversation, "you need something?"
"Yes, actually! Our manager sent us each on a mission to record a video with one of you guys, and Eunhwa was a little nervous, so I thought you two could do it together? You're both introverts, so I thought you'd get along!"
"I call you, Ye-ssi!" Mingi shouts as he keeps his eyes on the computer screen, making you giggle before looking between Eunhwa and Yeosang.
"Would you do that, Sunbaenim?"
"Yeah, of course." He stands up with a small grunt, nodding for her to follow him, "so, did you have any ideas, huebaenim?"
   "Who do you think I should do a video with?" San asks, making you look away from the duo as they wander into the hall.
    "Hm? Oh," you tap your chin as you think through your members, "maybe Bongcha! She has a lot of energy, you two can probably match well. Plus, she was you in our Guerrilla cover. Do you know any Chinese?"
    "Uh, little bit," he says in the language, pinching his fingers together.
   "She's pretty fluent in Korean but if there's any confusion or anything, I can translate for you guys! I speak Chinese pretty well." San blinks as you speak quickly, his mouth agape as he translates in his head.
    "Woah," Mingi laughs softly as he sits on the bench next to you, "is there anything you can't do, Ye-ssi?"
    "I can't wink," you offer with a shrug.
    "Ah! Me neither!" He chuckles, tilting his head, "who were you going to ask?"
     "Oh, I hadn't thought of it... well, you called dibs anyway!"
   Bongcha slides into the room, rambling in Chinese, "mèimei! What if I filmed with San? That's a good idea, right? We match each other's vibes. We can do Guerrilla!"
     You laugh before taking a long breath in, "aaaah, I know you guys too well already. Jiějie, I already asked San-ssi if he'd film with you," you nod, smiling as she fist pumps the air.
   San smiles as he stands, giving you a little bow before joining her.
     "What do you want to do, Ye-ssi?" Mingi knocks his foot against your leg lightly, looking down at you. Hongjoong had told him that you looked pretty, but to be truthful; he always thought that. Also to be truthful; you took his breath away when he turned around and saw you.
    "Hey, there's seven of you, eight of us. Is one of us going to be left out?" Seonghwa hums as he rolls over in the chair. He'd have to face his embarrassment of calling you cute the first day you met sooner or later.
    "Manager-nim said one of us should do a video with two of you," you explain politely. It's almost giving you whiplash — you're arguable closest and most informal with Mingi, and you've only briefly spoken to Seonghwa so you're trying to be extra formal, especially because he's the oldest idol at the company.
    "We three could do something together! What do you think about that, huebae?"
   "Oh, that sounds good, Park-nim!"
⋆.ೃ:・THIS LOVE IS NOT FAKE𐦍.ೃ࿔*:・
With everyone having paired off with a member of the other group, all of you were spread out around the building.
You, Mingi, and Seonghwa hadn't left their practice room. Others came and went, watching with amusement as you tried to decide what to do.
    What you landed on made everyone who passed laugh, even some of your members whipping out their phones to capture the moment as Seonghwa yells at Mingi to 'be cuter!'
    It was his idea to begin with. Catallena by Orange Caramel. 'It's cute, easy, and everyone knows it!' Everyone does know it, which is why you're even singing it as you practice the dance a few times.
   You keep in the middle for the most part, because they're taller. But when they were singing, they were in the middle; so you made your moves more excited so you weren't dwarfed by them.
   You had decided to do the whole song, and just choose the best clip to post.
     When you finally had it down and in sync with each other, you grabbed the closest person to record it for you; who happened to be Yunho.
He could clearly be heard laughing over the music and your voices, but that made the video even better.
Even though it was meant to be a short clip that would be posted on social media, it was too good not to post the whole thing. You all were clearly having fun, and you were good at the song despite doing it live and only practicing it together for about forty five minutes.
Especially the ending, which would end up going viral after it was posted.
Everyone else had finished their duo videos, and a good mix of your members had gathered in the practice room because they could hear you all still singing. They could be heard along with Yunho, giggling and cheering from their places on the wall.
When it ends, you pose for a moment before simultaneously busting out into laughter. You lean your forehead on Seonghwa's arm, and you don't see the way he looks down at you with stars in his eyes.
⋆.ೃ:・I FEEL YOU CALLIN' ME𐦍.ೃ࿔*:・
     "Hey, Huebae," Hongjoong peeks his head into the booth the next day, pointing to the papers on the stand that are different from your lyric sheet, "is that your song?"
You were the last of your members to record through the song, and after you had, the producer left you in the room with only the two producing idols.
    "Oh, yeah," you pick it up, suddenly embarrassed by your strawberry stationary, "I wasn't sure if you were serious so I brought just the one incase."
    "Of course we were! We love encouraging our juniors," he steps back into the room, taking Mingi with him after he had come to help you readjust the microphone, "after hearing that, we definitely want to hear another original!" The door to the booth closes behind them.
     He closes out the debut song on the computer, opening up a blank track as you protest, "I don't want to take any more of your time."
    "Ah, nonsense. All of your members are done, and we'd be fiddling our thumbs otherwise. Hit us with it!" He says while holding the button for you to hear him.
     "Uhhh," you hide your face in your sleeves, "it's a lot different from the song you made, I might not be good. Plus it was a headache to write, so I'm not sure if-"
    "You know what Hongjoong says?" Mingi interrupts you as he sits. "The bigger the headache, the better the song," they say together, making you chuckle.
     "Okay," you finally fold, explaining a bit, "it's a bit of a rough concept like, uhmm, like bad girl independence."
     "Ah, really? We get to see so many sides of you," Mingi's little laugh makes you smile down at your paper as you make a few last second notes.
     "Don't judge me too badly, Sunbaenims," you bite your pen, "I've only been doing this a couple months. I've never- well, I've never actually shared any of my songs with anyone until the other day. Hongjoong-sunbae really nailed the instrumental, have you heard it?"
    Hongjoong pouts with a coo of 'aww', thankful that the button isn't pressed as he realizes what he did, happy you couldn't hear him. Mingi did though, smirking over at him after he nods to you.
     "Don't worry, everyone starts somewhere. And you already act like a professional in the booth."
    "I do?" You blink confusedly.
    "Totally! You get into a zone like we do, move your body for more flow," Hongjoong moves his arms as you did while you were recording, "ah! You went 'seonmyeonghi pop pop'," he giggles as he pops imaginary bubbles like you did.
   "I did? Sheesh, that's embarrassing..."
    "No, not at all! It means you have a natural passion for singing!" Mingi argues, watching you make another note on your song as if to prove his point.
    "Hyung!" Another tall figure crashes into the room, making your eyes widen. "I heard one of the girls is an ace, is that true? Is it Ye-ssi? I bet-"
    Hongjoong slowly turns to face you, making Yunho freeze and deadpan when he realizes you can hear everything with the button clicked down. "Uh... Hello!" He bows suddenly, making the men shake with silent laughter, "Sorry for barging in, I didn't know you were still recording, I ran into PD-nim so I figured you were done... I'm sorry."
    "It's okay, hello," you bow back, almost hitting the window.
  
    "Careful!" Mingi yells, thankful when you come back up unscathed, "we'll have to (Y/n) proof the recording booth, she's determined to bang her head." You had done the same thing while thanking the producer.
    You laugh at his joke and give a small apology, backing a few steps away from the window before carefully dragging the microphone closer.
    "We were just about to listen to our huebaenim do an original song."
    Yunho's eyes light up at Hongjoongs words, and he looks to you, "for real? Can I listen?"
     "Uh," you hesitate for a second, before nodding, "yeah, of course." He takes a seat on the couch behind the two others in their chairs, leaned forward excitedly.
    "Do you want a metronome?" Hongjoong hums, ready to pull one up.
    "No, that's okay," you lift the paper and Yunho smiles at the cute strawberry print on its edges.
    "Hwaiti-" Mingis voice is cut off from your headphones as Hongjoong unclicks the button, leaving you in total silence.
    No backtrack, no metronome, nothing but your voice as it echoes quietly and the feeling of awaiting eyes on you.
     They wait for a few long moments as you read over your various notes you've taken while monitoring the few videos you've taken of yourself. It was purely self indulgent, but now it was coming in handy.
    When Hongjoong reaches to press the button, you stop him by waving your hands, "I'm okay, just stage fright! You know what, I'll-" you grab the microphone and set it infront of you while you face away from the window, "sorry, I'll just face this way."
     Yunho claps in amusement as you boldly turn away, Mingi laughing with him.
    "Okay, this is better, sorry sunbaenims!" You throw a thumbs up above your head before you begin bouncing to hype yourself up. Feeling much better without seeing the eyes on you, you begin to loosen up.
     "Breathe in, breathe out, ayeee," you shake your head before restarting with a sudden boldness and confidence that makes Hongjoong scramble to begin recording on the computer as his gut tells him that this will be golden.
    The flip you made from cute and bubbly to confident and rough in just a few minutes is enough to give the duo of producers whiplash.
   "Breathe in, breathe out," you loosen up even more as you begin, "ya-hooo, you don't wanna do this, sigan ppaetji ma!" The tone of your voice makes Mingi begin bouncing in his seat with uncontainable energy. It almost reminds him of himself, the way you move to your own beat as you rap.
   "Ne meoritsogeun ontong hayae hayae hayae~ Boran deusi urineun flying high, high~," it's Hongjoongs turn to start freaking out, cursing himself for not thinking of the rhyme you used.
"I pull up with the girls, so let's go! Zoom gotta zooooom~" You're completely in your zone as you finish the part of the song that you'd picked to show them, which happened to be the ending. "Bulleodeullyeo hondon let's go, zoom!"
You peek over your shoulder to see all three of them staring at you with various amounts of wonder. "Oh, did the microphone turn off? I should have kept facing you." You look over the standing mic as you mistake their open jaws and big eyes for something else.
    That is, until you hear the buzz in your headphones that means they pressed the button — immediately followed by their cheers and claps. You jump at the sudden noise, grabbing your chest before you laugh a bit, "you scared me."
    "Waaah! You're so good!" Mingi almost squeals, "you nailed it! Yah, how did you do that?!" Hongjoong nudges his shoulder as he speaks so plainly to you, but you don't seem to mind, too shy to even register his informal way of speaking.
    "Ah, I did it how I ima- aaye!" You yell as the door is swung open and you're suddenly picked up by the tall man, laughing loudly as he bounces with you in his arms, your feet swinging above the floor as he chants.
    "We have an ace! We have an ace!"
   "Mingi-ya! You're going to rattle her brains!"
    Hongjoong giggles as he watches the sentimental moment of Mingi setting you down carefully and fixing the crooked headphones with a soft, "sorry."
    "Ah," you take the headphones off and carefully set them down, gathering your papers and following him out of the booth with a small question of, "was it that good?"
    "Was it-" Hongjoong stutters flabbergasted, "was it good?! Woah, you aren't a rookie, no way you're a rookie!" He jokes, Yunho joining in.
    "Are you sure you're not our senior? You rap like you've been in the industry for years! That was awesome!"
"Oh, you guys are just hyping me up," you roll up your papers carefully and place them in your hoodie pocket, "thank-"
"Hey, tomorrow, you should show us more," Hongjoong speaks from the computer where he's looking at the shared schedule, "we'll all be free. Do you have plans?"
"Uhm... no, I could show you guys what else I have!"
⋆.ೃ:・달려가 CRUSH ON YOU𐦍.ೃ࿔*:・
    "No," you shake your head, "something is wrong but I can't tell what." You pout as you watch the youngest three do their dance break later in the day.
     The metronome set to the songs beat has become dull background noise that you're starting to think you'll hear when you try to sleep.
    The door is open to get some air flow as your breaths have long made the room steamy, and people often pass and take a peek inside. It's beginning not to bother you, having eyes on you. Sometimes you don't even notice them at all.
     "Try it like this," you rearrange the girls by their shoulders, dragging them into place and putting Namseon in the middle, "your leg movements are the strongest, and you two are better with your arms, this might balance it out right."
    "Ah, that's smart," Yoomi nods, swiping away her sweat soaked bangs, "count us down, Unnie?"
    "Okay, three, two, one," you hum the song as you watch them closely, eyes flicking when you see Sunji's feet stumble. She seems to be the least coordinated with her feet, but otherwise she keeps up perfectly.
    They look to you expectantly as they finish the short dance break, and you nod quickly, "yeah! That's more like it! You guys will be all anyone can talk about."
    The three young girls beam, high fiving one another as you stand from your crouched observing position. You stumble a bit, catching yourself before the girls can notice.
     "You guys take a few minutes, I'm going to get some fresh air."
    "Are you okay, Unnie?" Yoomi asks quickly as she sees stumble again, going to catch you.
    The others turn to you as well, even the older group on the other side of the room. You shake off her worried hand from your shoulder and smile, "I'm okay, it's just stuffy in here. I think I'll head down to the connivence store and get us some food, yeah? We could all use a pick me up, we've been working hard."
    "Do you want me to go with you," Bongcha asks through her panting breathes. Of everyone, she has least stamina. But she doesn't let that stop her.
    "That's okay, Jiějie," you laugh a bit as you grab your small back pack, "get yourself some water, you look like a lobster." You smirk as her face hardens, running out of the room while she yells.
     "What?! I'm the sexiest lobster in the sea, then!" She shouts as she pokes her head out of the door, being drug back inside by the others.
     You cackle as you race down the hall to avoid her wrath, passing ATEEZ's practice room and barely noting that their door was open as well, only noticing at all because you hear Yeosang, one of them that knows more Chinese. "What the hell?"
    "You better come back with some kimbap or this lobster will pinch you in the ass, Ye (Y/n)!!"
     "What the hell?!" You hear him repeat louder as you choose not to wait for the elevator, instead skipping down the steps with a newfound pep in your step from the banter.
     You shake your head as you come out into the lobby on the first floor, beaming even brighter as you spot Yunho coming from the elevator.
    "Hey, where you headed?" You ask as you put on a face mask, not wanting to risk any sicknesses with such important things going on.
     "Hey," he smiles just as bright as you, holding the door open for you as you both exit, "just to the convenience store. We decided to have a longer break than usual."
    "Ah, really? Us too! I'm going to get some kimbap or Bongcha is going to pinch me in the butt," you say nonchalantly, making the man nearly spit out his water.
    "What?!"
⋆.ೃ:・CAN'T STOP MY CRUSH ON YOU𐦍.ೃ࿔*:・
   Yunho holds the door for you again as you enter the store, ever the gentleman. "Wha-aaaaah, that's nice." He goes to ask you why you've stopped when that question answers itself; freezing cold air blasting you both.
     "Sweet, sweet, relief," your dramatic pose with your arms out makes him laugh, pushing your arm away from his chest playfully.
    "Come on, let's get that kimbap so you don't get pinched," he quips, making you bee-line for it. He shakes his head with amusement, fixing his cap before beginning to collect things that he knows his members like.
    It's still mid-day, most people at work and school. Only you two and the worker, so he isn't worried about disturbing anyone as he calls out, "hey, huebae!"
    "Yes?" You call back, reveling in air from the fridge as you curse the KQ building for not having open-able windows or a better air system.
   "Why don't we all eat together? I think I've only met two or three of you guys officially. "
    "That sounds like fun," you chirp from beside him, making him jump. You chuckle as you hold out the basket to him. He sets the food accumulating in his hands into it with a thanks, taking it so you can get things for your members. "You should text Hongjoong," you hum as you thoughtfully pick out things for the girls, "see what he thinks."
    "Why Hongjoong?"
    "He's the Captain, right?"
    He grins as he takes his phone from his pocket and begins texting, letting you lead him through the small store.
     "What kind of chips?"
   "One regular spicy, one not spicy at all," he replies without hesitation, slipping his phone back in his pocket as you grab two of each; not knowing what your members will prefer. "Hongjoong said good idea, we'll all eat in your practice room."
    "Yay, family bonding! Too bad the Xikers boys are in America," you pout under your mask as you hold the basket while he gets drinks for all of his members, "we barely said hello to two of the members and they were up and at'em!"
    "Maybe we can do this again when they come back," he suggests as he grabs something you have a hard time reaching, "Hunter did say he thought we should do more company activities."
     "Hunter is smart, then," you say as you finally grab a bunch of kimbap, saving your ass (literally). "Co-worker bonding is important in any job. Especially one so demanding. What kind of ramen?"
    "Hmm," he mimics your stance, looking at the wall of what seems like dozens of options with a hand on your hip.
    "Should we just get random ones and let them fight over it?"
     He looks down at you for a second before randomly grabbing a bowl, "I like the way you think."
    By the time you're done ransacking the store, the basket is overflowing as you set it on the register and Yunho has a few things in his hands that just wouldn't fit. "Sorry, big gathering last minute," he bows to the cashier, who looks like they're just about ready to quit.
    You go to get your wallet from your bag when he stops you with a hand on yours, "I'll pay."
    "It's for my members too," you argue, giving him your best puppy dog eyes. "New comers treat for you guys."
     He's immune to begging eyes, having spent entirely too much time with Seonghwa; king of boba eyes, and his best friend, Mingi; king of puppy dog eyes. "Nope," he shakes his head, already having his card out when the cashier is done ringing up the small feast.
    In retaliation, you grab all of the bags you can as he pays, leaving only a two bags of drinks. "Let me help-"
    "Nope," you repeat him in his exact tone, headed towards the door with a bow to the cashier, "have a nice day!"
    He holds the door with his free hand, chuckling at the sight of the cloud of bags on each side of you, "hey, seriously, let me help."
    "You paid! So I shall carry," you declare theatrically, finding yourself more comfortable with the man by the minute. "C'mon, we got some hungry members to feed!"
     He lets you win, this time.
⋆.ೃ:・L-O-V-E 𐦍.ೃ࿔*:・
     "Ya-hoooo~" You sing-song as you enter the practice room, finding all of the members already gathered and talking among themselves, "Santa and her elf came early!"
     Everyone perks up with the promise of food, gathering around the bags that you set on the floor and start unpacking.
     "Yunho, did you make her carry all this?" Hongjoong looks towards his member, ready to scold him.
     "She insisted!"
     "I diiiid," you smile up at the leader from your kneeling place on the floor, "but you can still beat him up if it will make you feel better."
     "Yah, I'm the elf and I'm about to get beat up? What kind of friendship is this?"
     A couple of laughs come from the others at your back and forth, "the kind where you should have let me pay, and this would have all been avoided and I might let you be Santa!" You stick your tongue out playfully as you lower your mask. "Bleh~"
     "Bleh~" Yunho copies you, making them all laugh louder.
     "Okay, okay, that's enough kids," Hongjoong slaps the front of Yunho's cap down, breaking the staring contest between the two of you.
    The whole 15 of you gather around the laid out food in a circle, you and Yunho quickly grabbing the ramen you'd picked out for yourselves before chaos would inevitably ensue.
    After the KQ ramen wars, as it would come to be known, everyone settles down and eats in peace, small conversation made here and there.
     As you pour some of your soda into Sunji's eagerly awaiting cup, you peek towards Hongjoong with a question thats been bugging you for a few days. "Hey, Hongjoong-sunbae?" You call softly as you wait for the bubbles to die down before pouring her a bit more.
    He nods towards you, answering wordlessly because his mouth is full.
     "I was wondering, you guys are allowed to hang stuff up in your practice room, right? I thought I saw some pictures tacked to the wall the other day."
    "Yes, we are, as long as it won't fall down with all the stomping we do." He tilts his head, watching as you give some of your precious ramen to Eunhwa, "why do you ask?"
     "I was wondering if we could as well, maybe a group photo or something," you shrug while looking down, "just a thought I had."
     "Sure, you can!" He beams, taking out his phone.
    "What are you doing? No phones while we eat, that's your rule!" Wooyoung gets a slap over the head for his troubles, letting it dangle defeatedly.
    "Let's take a picture. Just for us," he says as he stands, "we can print it out for you guys to hang."
    "Right now?" Aeyoung asks as she hurriedly slurps the remainder of her noodles.
    "It's a day to remember, right?" Hongjoong smiles brightly as you stand excitedly and jump before helping Sunji up. "The first time we've ever all been together. We can take another when Xikers get back, too. Call it a family portrait."
     A few minutes of strateger-ing later, you and the rest of your to-be group are sitting facing away from the mirror, and the men are standing facing it. So one way or another, everyone is in the frame.
      "Everyone ready?" Jongho, holding the phone from the middle of his group, asks.
    "Yes," the walls echo.
     "Say crUSh!"
     In the photo, you're too busy smiling at Jongho's words to pose properly, head leaned against Eunhwa's shoulder as she holds up a shy peace sign, holding your hand with her free one.
Sunji has one arm wrapped around your shoulder, the other around Yoomi. Nobody would be able to tell how sore they were from dancing, not by the fact that they both have the biggest smiles ever on their faces. Namseon is laid across their laps, looking up at you with admiration clear on her face.
Bongcha and Ayeoung are at either side of the line, each having one side of a heart held up, as if saying that their younger members fill their heart. When they had time to plan that, nobody knows. But it would become their go to pose.
The reflection in the mirror behind you all shows the way that the men have just as big of smiles as they watch over you.
A beautiful picture with beautiful meaning.
Nobody would even notice the way Hongjoong mimics your pose subconsciously with his head titled, or the way Mingi's eyes are glued to you, the way Yeosang was visibly pleased with the fact that he was aligned with you, the way Seonghwa found himself blushing at the sound of your laugh.
    A beautiful picture, indeed.
⋆.ೃ:・I FEEL YOU CALLIN' ME𐦍.ೃ࿔*:・
     You're the only one in the practice room at all the next day. It was your groups only rest day of the week, but you had plans with your senior group.
     You're laying on your stomach in the middle of the floor, going through your loose-leaf papers of lyrics and spreading out the ones that you deem acceptable. The instrumental of your groups song is on repeat coming from the computer, and you mumble the lyrics as you sort your own.
     "Damn, did a hurricane come through here?" Wooyoung jokes as he opens the door, making you look up for a second before you look around yourself; suddenly in the middle of a large circle of decorated stationary papers that you don't remember setting down.
    "Ah, sorry! You guys are early," you scramble to pick up the mess as they file into the room.
    "We're right on time," San points to the clock, making you snap your head around to glare at it.
    "Traitor," you whisper to it, making them chuckle. "Time got away from me, I was trying to separate them by genre to make it easier to show you guys!"
    "Aw, you're thoughtful," Mingi smiles as he picks up a paper, reading it closely.
    "Oh, that should be sexy vibe!" You point to him, then to one that Jongho picks up, "that's love songs! Over here with Yunho-ssi is sad vibe, over by Seonghwa-nim is feel good songs."
    "What's this pile?" Hongjoong asks as he picks up the only stack of papers that's in a distinct pile.
    "Personal favorites," you beam towards him, sitting up with a groan, "the ones that gave me the biggest headaches, too. Picked them out especially for you." A couple of laughs are heard around the room.
    Yeosang is looking over everything with wide eyes, "(Y/n)...?"
     "Yes?" You respond quickly, helping Yunho pick up and pile together the sad songs.
   
     "I thought you said you've only been doing this a few months?" His words make the others freeze with realization as well, the absolute mess of papers could only mean one thing, "there must be a hundred songs here."
    "Close," you shrug nonchalantly, "one hundred twelve." You straighten out your stack, humming the lyrics to the song still going on the stereo.
     You feel all of their eyes on you, and you look up between them, "what's wrong?"
    "(Y/n)," Hongjoong begins slowly, crouching to your level and gesturing around, "are all of these finished?"
     "Uhm," you look around, "for the most part!" You nod, still unaware of what's going on in their heads.
    "You wrote one hundred and twelve songs almost to completion in a few months?" He blinks in disbelief as you nod your head again.
    "Dude," San runs a hand through his hair before laughing baffled.
    "What? What is it!? You guys are freaking me out!" You pout as you look between them all quickly.
    Mingi reaches over the papers, careful not to crumple any, and sets a hand on your shoulder, "if half of these are even a bit as good as your rap from the other day, or the song we wrote, you're more than an ace... you're a lyrical genius."
    You look around at the papers, suddenly realizing just how many songs you've written. "Oh, shit."
     " 'Oh, shit' is right," Hongjoong giggles at your face of shock as you scan the papers, "your mind could be a goldmine! Even I can't do this. Nobody can do," he gestures to the mess that his members are surrounding, "this."
    "But," you begin, taking a breath, "I did?"
    "Fuck yeah, you did! I knew there was something about you!" Mingi punches Wooyoung in the leg with a, "told you so."
    "Ow!"
    "But, what if they aren't good? What if my rap was a fluke?" You speak over Mingi and Wooyoungs argument, quickly being proven wrong.
    "This is incredible," Jongho says as he looks up from the love song he's been reading, "these are good. Every single one I've picked up is good."
    "In this pile too," Seonghwa nods, offering a paper with purple lines to Yunho, trading it for the one he had with flowers on the border.
    "You must have been a writer in your past life," Yeosang sits cross legged at the border of the papers, beginning to help sort through them now that his shock has passed. "A good one, at that."
     With nothing else to say, you all begin putting the papers into neater piles. Often passing them around the circle to one another to either show a particularly good one or to get an opinion about what genre it goes into. They'll call out ones they aren't sure of by the title on the top, and usually you know right away.
     "Midnight Fic- Fiction?" Seonghwa reads, peeking at you for your answer.
    "Midnight Fiction?!" You whip around, falling on your stomach to reach for it, "no way! I thought I lost this one! This definitely goes in the headache pile, Joong-ssi! It's my favorite!"
      Seonghwa hands it over with a small smile as he notes how comfortable you're becoming with them. "I like it," he nods, "upbeat?"
   "Yes, that's how I imagine it," you bop your head to the imaginary beat, the music on the computer long being turned off. "Thanks a bunch, Oppa!" You sit quickly and peck his cheek before turning back and sliding to Hongjoong, eagerly explaining the background you imagine for the song; completely unaware that Seonghwa is malfunctioning behind you from the platonic cheek kiss and the nickname that had slipped.
⋆.ೃ:・널 향한 낯선 VIBE𐦍.ೃ࿔*:・
     With you and Hongjoong's minds combined, you had finalized your first ever song. You often went back to the track he made for inspiration, and he went to your messy notes and scribbled lyrics.
    You were singing it through with the music from his phone, and he nods along; "I think we just broke a record!" He smiles as it comes to an end, "fastest production of a kpop hit."
    "Hit," you shake your head with a laugh, "I doubt it."
    "No, that's so cute, it will definitely be popular!" Mingi says from his place lying on the floor.
     The piles were distinct and paper clipped, courtesy of Seonghwa. Yeosang was straightening out the last one. You decided to keep them all in Hongjoongs studio for the time being, until he could go through them all. He said you could come and get them whenever you wanted, and joked that it would be 'Myeongi and Hongjoong's studio.
    "You think so?"
    "Definitely," Jongho nods as he sets down the love song that had become his favorite, "you really have a talent, Ye-ssi."
    "Like seriously!" Wooyoung agrees, "it's kind of scary. Where has Jisu been hiding you?!"
    You wave him off with a smile, looking at the clock. "Ah! It's past midnight!" You crawl over Hongjoong's lap quickly and slide to your bag, getting your phone. "We've already been announced as a group, all of our videos should be up!"
    A few of them bring out their own phones, going to different social medias to see how things are being received.
NOTIFICATIONS
YOUTUBE
KQENT POSTED TWO VIDEOS.
TIKTOK
ATEEZ POSTED SEVEN VIDEOS.
TWITTER
KQENT POSTED AN UPDATE.
CRUSH GROUP CHAT
EIGHTEEN NEW MESSAGES.
      As you're scrolling through their videos on tiktok, you hear your own yell come from San's phone; followed by Seonghwa and Mingi's yells. "No way! They posted the whole cover," he grins like a madman as he watches, and you quickly make your way over.
    "Seriously?"
Mingi flings himself over, his chest on your back as he watches over your shoulder, "aiiiish, we're never going to live this down, Hyung."
Seonghwa crouches on San's other side, clicking on the comments while the video keeps playing. "Hey, they love her though! It's worth it to be a little embarrassed."
"What are they saying?" Your head blocks their view as you lean right in front of San's phone.
"Yah, move," Mingi chuckles as he pushes your head back gently so they can see. "Look at that one! It's only been like half a hour and people are telling others who you are. 'The girl in purple is Ye Myeongi'," Hongjoong has a shy smile as they learn that you're using the stage name he came up with," 'she's the leader of KQ's pre-debut girl group-' when did you become the leader, Ye-ssi?!"
"A couple days ago," you smile as you go back to your own phone, reading the comments on the maknae's video together.
   "Aww," Yunho turns his phone to you, showing you a comment under the official statement.
i'm so glad these girls are getting a chance to debut together! in their introduction video you can tell they already have a bond. the leader makes sure everyone gets a chance to speak, and they all look so excited. ladiez hwaiting!!
   "I think I'm gonna cry," you cover your face with your sleeve, laughing lightly.
"Heyyy, it's okay," San puts his hand on your back soothingly, and the light touch makes the tears spill over.
"S-sorry," you bow your head as you sniff, quickly wiping your tears with the tissue that Wooyoung hands over. "Sorry, this is embarrassing..."
    "No," Hongjoong whispers as he joins the rest of his members in sitting around you, "it's okay... It's a big moment. You've been working towards this for a long time."
    "Hongjoong is right," Seonghwa hesitates for a moment before placing his hand on your head, thankful when you lean into it instead of away. "It's okay to cry, Huebae. Take all the time you need."
⋆.ೃ:・L-O-V-E𐦍.ೃ࿔*:・
Yunho is the last one to leave the building that night, and he doesn't expect anyone to be on the street. It's nearly one in the morning.
But, there you are.
Sitting on the curb, holding your bag to your chest as you look up at the sky. He follows your gaze, there isn't much to look at. You can't see the stars very well in the city.
He steps forward to ask if you need a ride home, when he hears you whispering.
    "-proud, right? You loved music a lot, I remember... Maybe that's why I'm so good at it." You chuckle, but it's sad. He has to take a moment to translate the words you're saying, but he follows along well enough. He doesn't mean to eavesdrop, but his body doesn't seem to want to move. "Uncle Ujin keeps asking me when I'll visit you. I know that I should, I really should go with them one weekend... But you understand, right? I won't lie to you, and try to say that I'm too busy or something. Really, I'm just a coward, and- and I'm so mad at you, still. They won't even talk about home. I have to deal with the consequences of your actions. I have to be here every day! Why do you get to leave? Why?!"
    A loud rumble of thunder is followed by an immediate downpour of rain. You let your head down, laughing at mother nature's divine sense of humor. "Great. Just great."
     An umbrella opens up over your head, and you look up to see Yunho.
    He gives you a small smile, and you almost want to ask how much of that he heard. "I walk out right when it starts raining, great timing, huh?" He decides that he'll just keep the fact that he heard you to himself. You were clearly struggling with something, and he didn't want to add embarrassment onto that.
     "Do you need a ride, Huebae?"
     He outstretches his hand, and you gladly take it.
⋆.ೃ:・달려가 CRUSH ON YOU𐦍.ೃ࿔*:・
⋆.ೃ:・DELETED SCENES.ೃ࿔*:・
#TWO#
   As you all fold up and put your sticky notes in the hat, Jisu is writing all of your names on the mirror with your marker.
After counting the number of papers to make sure everyone voted, you bring the hat to her and hold it as she unfolds the first paper.
"(Y/n)-Unnie," she reads and puts a tally under your name.
The next, "Ye (Y/n)," another tally.
By the third one you begin to get nervous as — "(Y/n)."
"Bongcha!" She moves her hand to her name and makes a tally before going right back to yours, "(Y/n)!"
When all of the votes are counted (and recounted per your request), you and Bongcha are the only ones with votes. And Bongcha only has one.
"Yah, we all voted for (Y/n) besides herself!" Aeyoung giggles as you go through the papers for a third time, "it's meant to be!"
"Looks like crUSh has an official leader," Jisu smiles as she erases all of their names, leaving only yours, "congratulations."
She heads to the back of the room, where the crew is still situated and giving you a small round of applause with your members.
You stare at your name, six marks underneath it, six members that you're now responsible for.
"Unnie," Namseon stands up quickly and runs to you as she sees the tears welling up in your eyes, "are you okay?"
The others are standing as well, gathering around you to shield you from the camera. "You guys think I'll be a good leader?" You whisper, taking Sunji's hand when she offers it.
"Of course you'll be a good leader," Eunhwa reassures you just as quietly, "you already take such good care of us."
"I agree with the mouse," Bongchas playful nickname for the introvert makes you crack a smile, "and don't worry, you have me as a co-leader. You picked me out yourself!"
When the oldest member pulls you into a hug, the rest of them fall in line, creating a group hug under your name.
#THREE#
MINGI SENT AN ATTACHMENT.
     It's a video of the mirror, the lyrics on it. In the reflection, you have your head turned to face San, nodding as you listen to his suggestions intently. Sunji is singing the chorus again, "tipi-tap tipi-tip- hey, Unnie? Should it be more li-" The video cuts off.
MINGI SENT A MESSAGE. hyung, let's make this song! (y/n) is a musical genius
MINGI SENT AN ATTACHMENT.
    Another video, your face buried in your book as you write. "-ke Mingi-ssi went, 'the code is L-O-V-E~!' Try a little higher than 'dallyeoga crush on you~' to give it some variety. 'The code is L-O-V-E,' like th-"
SEONGHWA HYUNG SENT A MESSAGE. That's so adorable! It fits the vibe of their group, cyber and cute
JONGHO SENT A MESSAGE. catchy
CAPTAIN SENT A MESSAGE. Send me a full recording of what you have and I'll mess with some music
WOOYOUNG SENT A MESSAGE. the code is L-O-V-E !!
YUNHO SENT A MESSAGE. great now wooyoung will be singing that all day long haha
WOOYOUNG SENT A MESSAGE. L-O-V-E !!!!
 
⋆.ೃ:・L-O-V-E WILL BE RIGHT BACK.ೃ࿔*:・
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readychilledwine · 2 years ago
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Hellos. Could do something where the reader is azriel mate and they are kidnapped. She sacrifices her wings to save his life. And mention how az is angry that it happened and whatever u think will look good. Thank you.
👀👀👀👀 I, uh, may have a thing for shattering my own heart only to pick up the pieces. So yes. Yes, I can. Hopefully, you enjoy it, and I did it justice, dearest!
Beauty in Pain
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Azriel x Illyrian reader
Warnings - not over descriptive mentions of torture and dismemberment, Azriel goes feral, depression, the usual unedited by an outside source.
Word count -2030
Peep pt 2
✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️
You were better trained than this. 
That reminder was echoing inside your mind like a war drum, beating senselessly into your thoughts as you were dragged down the barely lit pathway under the temple. You knew no one was coming. Faebane had blocked the mating bond, blocked your ability to call Rhys or Feyre. You'd be lucky if they found you, alive or dead.
It had started a routine mission. Head to the war camps, ask the leader for reports, speak with the females, head home to your mate.
Your mate. The one you prayed had felt the bond grow cold despite the many promises to never shut each other out. The one who'd slaughter every single male involved in this when he found out where you were, who had you, and what they planned to do or will have done.
You didn't fight as they laid you face down on the concrete block in the room. They had planned this, planned how long to keep you on a specific dose of faebane, no food, and no water. Planned the beatings used to weaken you on a cycle. You felt it and flinched as two sets of hands roughly grabbed your left wing. 
You were prepared to be clipped as a form of torture for the information they wanted. You knew it was coming. But as blinding pain left you with no choice but to scream out for your mate, for your brother, for Rhysand, you knew the plan was worse than you had imagined.
But you did not yield. You bared the pain, allowing it to try and break you until the world grew cold and dark.
—-----------
Azriel was pacing Rhysand's office. He had not slept in the 7 long days you had been overdue for, at the very least, a check in, after the missive Rhys and Cassian had received.
They have not started training the females. I will be home or rewrite soon. I promise. The three Illyrian males had trusted you to handle it. They had trusted you would be safe, unharmed, respected. 
And despite every alarm ringing in his heart, mind, and soul, Azriel had not gone to you right away. 
Rhysand's eyes glazed over, his face dropping slowly as he received whatever message he was receiving. He came back to them slowly, moving without speaking as he started grabbing weapons and tossing them to Azriel and Cassian. 
The High Lord's voice was dealthy calm as he finally spoke. "A set of wings, freshly removed, was just found outside of my mother's cabin. There's no signs of (y/n) anywhere in any of the camps the twins searched. The only thing reported to them was in the northernmost camp."
Rhysand breathed deeply. "A female was carried through the camp, unconscious with her head and body covered. That same night the camp heard screams from midnight until early into the morning."
Cassian's breath caught in his throat before he immediately grabbed Rhysand's arm. "Take me there, now." 
"How long ago," Azriel's voice had gone cold and detached. "How long ago did that happen? How long has she been sitting Mother knows where with untreated wounds or dead?"
Rhysand refused to look at Azriel, reaching to grab his brother's hand, before finally whispering. "4 days."
—------------
The rescue had turned into a bloodbath. There was zero question as a panicked shadows all but dragged the three of them to an abandoned temple.
It reeked of her blood, her sweat, her tears. 
It held an almost haunting aura as if the terror and pain of her screams had scarred the ancient stone, marking it to forever echo her agony to anyone walking inside.
Azriel didn't want to ask questions. He didn't want prisoners. He wanted payment in blood. 
He had cut through every single male that appeared in their path before Rhysand and Cassian even had a chance to interfere on his way to the dungeons his shadows were pleading with him to get to quickly. 
And now one last male stood between him and the cell she laid unconscious in. "Move or be moved," Rhysand told him coolly. "I would not push your luck." 
The male stared at a blood soaked Azriel. His shadows were curling over his shoulders like snakes waiting to strike. His wings flared wide in dominance and anger. His 7 siphons glowing. 
The young male moved, allowing Rhysand to grab him and winnow him away to the Prison before Azriel could beat him to death as well. Cassian moved quickly to the door, opening it with the key they had found, before entering the small cell containing his sister.
The anguished sob that left Cassian was the only confirmation Azriel needed. "Y/n," he heard Cassian tapping your body. "Come on, sis. Wake up."
Dying. Azriel's shadows confirmed. Infections. We cannot safely winnow her. Rhys is bringing a healing team. Need more space. 
Azriel moved into the cell, holding the scream in his throat as he was overwhelmed with the urge to run to you. Cassian had you cradled into his chest, rocking you back and forth before looking up at Azriel, eyes rimmed with tears. "We need to get her somewhere that Madja can use to work on her. Rhys is bringing her and a team of healers here." Azriel held his arms out, a silent demand in the movement. 
Cassian only nodded. Standing and carefully transferring your beaten and bleeding body into Azriel's arms, following him out of the room.
—---------------
3 long weeks of silence had passed in the House of Wind. 
No one had gone to Azriel's room.
No one had spoken to him without the male lashing out.
There was nothing they could do to comfort him but allow him to be with you.
When you first got home, while you were lying unconscious with Madja, Helion, and Lucien looking after you, Rhys had managed to get out of the male Azriel allowed to live one very simple thing. 
You let them torture you, let them completely take your wings, to force you to look into death's eyes, and you had allowed them to do it to protect Azriel. You had refused to give them his schedule to visit the camps. You refused to tell them when he'd be there alone again. You refused to tell them which pathway he flew in using or where he'd shadow-walk himself to first.
You had lost your wings to protect him. Your husband, your mate.
Azriel had lost it then, guilt eating away at him, and began beating the male to death with his bare fists as Cassian and Rhysand just watched. They knew what was echoing in his mind. She will live, Madja had said, but she will never be the same. Her wings can't be reattached or saved, no one has the ability to give her back what was taken.
You hadn't spoken to Azriel, Rhys, or Cassian when you finally woke up. You only sat in your window, staring at the sky. 
The one you'd never feel going through your hair again. The one you'd never touch again. The one you'd never taste again.
It was funny, you thought to yourself, to have been protected and trained to ensure this never happened, only for the moment it did to come 500 long years later. 
It had been a full week later when Azriel cornered you in the shower and just held your naked body for you two to speak. Another week passed before you allowed him to kiss you and hold you without him having to force the contact. You had yet to show interest in leaving the bedroom the two of you shared. 
You felt familiar scarred hands on your bare shoulders, wrapping around to your collarbones before running up the front of your neck and tilting your head back. "Dinner alone tonight or dinner with our family?" His voice was scratched from the crying you two had been doing. His eyes were swollen and red. "I already know the answer, I just need to verbally hear it."
"I wish to be alone." He nodded. Taking the cue and leaving you to your window as he sat back on the couch, head falling into his hands, as he began to cry again.
You watched his shoulders shaking, listened to his almost silenced sniffling. You knew things had forever changed in your relationship. 
There would be no more missions for you.
No more trips with Amren away from him.
No more walking Velaris alone.
There would be no more date nights spent flying.
No more jumping from high places together, allowing yourselves to fall until the last possible second, only to spread those precious wings.
There'd be no more wing play late into the early mornings, edging each other with small touches in certain places until you were both begging for relief.
But you knew deep down, more than anything, there would be a new Azriel. One that would have one more thing to hold against himself. One that would have one more moment of his life to look back on and use as an argument for how he wasn't enough.
And you couldn't have that. You would not stand for it.
You couldn't have the broken male you had spent time healing with, growing with, and struggling with. You could not have the one who blamed himself for every little thing again.
You stood on slightly unstable feet, and walked to your closet, a shadow trailing you. Rhys had immediately replaced your clothing, ensuring you would not have to go through ordering it yourself, and had the twins place the new materials into your closet. A simple black dress was what you picked. It would stop right above your knees, hug your torso beautifully. You closed the closet door, calling for Rhys silently in your mind and jumping as his hands appeared behind you. "I need help." You whispered. 
His eyes searched yours before nodding and helping you change into the dress. Allowing you to use him to balance. A kiss was placed on the back of your head as he laced it up. Gentle, but full of emotion. And he winnowed away. 
You left the closet, walking to Azriel on the couch slowly with a pair of his trousers and a black button-up shirt in hand. "I changed my mind. I'm craving that cake, the almond one with the vanilla frosting."
Azriel scoffed lightly. "I am not leaving you to go get cake. I will ask Rhysand-"
"I need you to fly me there, Az. I want to go get the cake, eat it at the Cafe with coffee, and then I want you to take me for a walk on the Sindra. And maybe go to that book store. The used book one."
He was silent before looking at you. His hazel eyes were full of question. "Y/n-"
"If my mate will not take me, I will ask my brother. I want cake, and I want my husband to take me to get it."
"I don't think you understand how heartbreaking not being able to truly fly is going to be, my heart."
You only repeated yourself, voice smaller this time. "If my mate will not take me, I will ask my brother. I want cake." You paused, eyes welling with tears. "I deserve cake and coffee. If I want cake and coffee for dinner, I expect my mate, the male who married me and bound himself to me, to take me."
Azriel nodded. Grabbing the clothing from you and he changed in silence. He stood on the balcony waiting as you took calming breaths and walked outside for the first time in many weeks.
"I am not responsible for the setback in your mental health after this." 
"No, but you are monetarily responsible for my cake and purchases. Let's go." He took you in his arms, holding you close to his chest and took off hard. 
And in that moment, you both knew something new had begun. You were laughing as he concentrated way more than usual to fly. You were smiling at how this allowed you to feel his body heat, to hear his heartbeat, to touch his face. 
You were laughing at how he began genuinely laughing at you. Not understanding where the sudden joy filling the bond and over flowing it like a faucet set to run for too long came from.
It wasn't until he paused in the sky, hovering so he could look down at your smiling face did you both realize something.
Losing your wings was just the beginning. 
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astermath · 2 years ago
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“So? Whatever.”
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pairing: dave lizewski x popular!fem!reader 
summary: The preppy girl that just about everyone admires has more in common with Dave than he expects. He doesn’t quite know how to handle this information, but it excites him nonetheless.
word count: 2K
♡ LANDING PAGE♡
notes: I haven’t written something like this in a good while, so please bear with me if I’m rusty or there are some mistakes here and there. Reader is referred to with she/her pronouns, I tried to be as non descriptive as possible about her appearance. I do love writing a bit of a mean reader like this, but don’t worry, she’ll warm up to him. This fic takes place in senior year for age purposes, I’m pretty much fully ignoring the timeline of the film. Comments and/or requests are super welcome btw!! Hope you enjoy!! <3
(ps this will get a part two don’t worry xx)
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To Dave, girls like you were unreachable. You could hear about them, you could listen to them talk in the hallways, sneak a glance their way… But talk to them? Any single one of their group would consider that social suicide. The only reason any of them even looked in his direction was to ask him to do their homework. So why in god’s name were you at his locker? Why were you acknowledging his existence at all?
“What’s that?” You leaned against the locker next to his, pointing at the piece of a comic book panel he’d taped to the door. It pictured Spider-man putting on his mask for the first time, something Dave looked to when he needed some motivation for the day. 
He struggled to get basically any words out, still not fully registering that you’re within such close range. He could smell you… God that was really weird to think about, he felt like a creep already, but you just… Smelled really nice. Like vanilla, mixed with something sweet. He realized he hadn’t answered your question yet and was just staring in front of him like a weirdo. “O-Oh, yeah, that’s uh… That’s Spider-man. It’s this… This superhero I like.” He adjusted the strap of his backpack to keep his hands busy.
You smiled and rolled your eyes. “Duh, I know who Spider-man is, please.” You couldn’t help but think he was doing anything to avoid looking into your eyes, as if you’d turn him to stone if he dared to do so. Which, yes, was exactly how he felt.
“I wanted to know which comic that was from. The art style looks a lot different than the ones I’ve seen.” Now this part was pretty much making his teenage brain short circuit. He probably didn’t hear that right, there’s no way a popular girl like you read comics, right? This had to be some kind of elaborate joke, like you were trying to pull a prank on him by making him ramble about his favorite superheroes. However, he wasn’t close minded. Even if this was a prank, at least you were talking to him, right?
“Yeah, sorry, I uh… Forget he’s a pretty popular character sometimes. This one’s from a collector’s edition. One of the pages was kinda falling apart so I just… Taped my favorite panel to my locker.” Again, he tried to look anywhere else, but it felt rude not to be making eye contact with the person who’s trying to give you a chance at a conversation. His eyes met yours and he realised he hadn’t ever actually seen you up close like this. You were really pretty, he knew that, but he never noticed these particular things about you before. The way your hair framed your features so nicely, the little beauty mark that seemed to be somehow perfectly placed, or the way a dimple appeared on your right cheek when you smiled.
“Hopefully you didn’t pay too much for it, those things cost like, a fortune.” You followed, snapping him out of his haze as you twirled a piece of hair between your index and middle finger. Dave was much taller than you, so you had to look up to match his gaze, which was already hard since he kept avoiding your eyes. You never realized how much he’d matured since freshman year. He looked pretty cute… Really cute, actually. 
“S-So, uhm, I really don‘t wanna be rude, but…” He closed his locker before looking at you with a rather awkward expression. “Why are you here? Why are you… talking to me?” Honestly, not an unjustified question. Dave was often the subject of bullying, and the popular girls clique made no exception to that rule. He doesn’t remember you specifically doing anything, although... He has a vague memory of you being in the car with those jocks when they threw spoiled milk at him.
“What? A girl can’t talk to her fellow classmate? This is a free country, you know.” You pretended to be a little hurt by his assumption that you were probably just here to make fun of him. In all honesty he was still a little dumbfounded by this whole ordeal, and the fact that half the people that passed you were giving you two weird looks really wasn’t helping. “You know I sit behind you in English, right?” He responds by nodding. He is painfully aware of this fact, as your friends had expressed their empathy for you when your seat was assigned behind him, though you honestly didn’t mind. And also the fact that he got a fair share of gossip from you and your best friend always whispering to each other. “Well,” you flipped a bit of hair over your shoulder. “I saw you had a copy of Birth of Venom in your backpack, and I... Wanted to ask if I could borrow it...” You looked to the side, muttering the last part. As much as you tried not to care what people thought, you did have a bit of a reputation that you were stuck to. Liking comics wasn’t for you, you were a cheerleader, you went to parties, you liked shopping. Okay, you secretly liked comics.
Dave looked at you with a puzzled expression. “I-I’m sorry, can you repeat tha--”
“Can I borrow your stupid comic or what?” You interrupted him, clearly looking a bit embarrassed. 
“Oh!” His face was getting hot, this conversation was lasting way longer than he imagined it would. Usually he’d have his face shoved into his locker by now. “U-Uhm, sure! It’s a bit expensive, but... Well, just don’t damage it, please.” He took his backpack off his shoulder and was about to pull it out before you grabbed his arm. 
“Not here you dumbass! Just, like... Ugh, meet me at my car after school’s over, you can hand it to me then.” You were acting like this was some kind of illegal drug deal, but this truly was something important to you. Your dad had already made it very clear that he didn’t want his little girl becoming some kind of tomboy and have her mind run rampant with superhero stories. Especially with this Kickass guy running around...
The bell rang and you silently thanked it for doing so. “Look, I gotta go. White Corvette, by the vending machines.” You walked past him, and a waft of that lovely vanilla scent hit his nose. He damn near melted into the floor when your arm brushed against his. “Later, Lizewksi.”
You leaned against the hood of your car, scrolling on your phone as you waited for the brunette to show up. You couldn’t help but feel a little guilty that you were just meeting him in secret like this. It’s not like you were embarrassed to be seen with him, or that you didn’t like him, it’s just that liking comics and superheroes was just about the dorkiest thing anyone could be into. Especially with Kickass running around, and, well, kicking ass, people would probably be thinking you’d be into this whole vigilante business yourself. Sure, you thought it was cool that people were doing something about all the crime, but you’d rather die than mess up your hair beating some thug’s ass. 
You noticed someone approaching and noticed that Dave wasn’t alone. With a bit of a disgusted expression, you gestured to his two sidekicks. “I don’t remember inviting the entire geek entourage to come see me. This isn’t some kinda meet and greet, you know.” Todd and Marty seemed, just like Dave before, a little shocked that you were talking to them. 
“S-Sorry, they just uh...” Dave began.
“We didn’t believe him.” Todd followed.
“...believe what?” You questioned, crossing your arms.
“That a chick like you was into comics.” Marty said, before Todd smacked him on the back of the head. “Dude! Don’t say it like that!”
You got a bit flustered, and looked at Dave. “You told them!? What the fuck, Lizewski?”
“I-I’m sorry!” He held up his hands. “They were asking me what we were talking about, and... I panicked.” They were more so insinuating that he was flirting with her, and he didn’t want that rumor going around, in case your jock brother caught wind of that and beat his ass for flirting with his sister.
You sighed, looking down and pinching the bridge of your nose before waving your hand out in a dismissive manner. “It’s... whatever, just leave. Before I change my mind and throw a bitch fit.” His two friends gave him a suggestive look before heading out. “Those two better not snitch or I’ll cut off their shrimps.” He nodded, just a little intimidated by the threat.
He got out his backpack and handed you the comic. “I’m still surprised I uh... I never knew you were into this stuff.” His breath hitched in his throat when your finger brushed over his as you took it from him. You flipped through it, keeping your eyes on the pages.
“Yeah, well... There’s a lot you don’t know about me, as much as I’m sure you guys love to assume.” You realized you hadn’t even told him your name, so you looked up at him and held out your hand, introducing yourself. You know, out of courtesy. 
“I-I know your name, but uhm... I’m Dave.” Your hand felt so soft, your beautifully manicured fingers being a real juxtaposition to his. His hand was much bigger and rougher than yours. You wondered why his hand was so calloused anyways... He didn’t look like he did many sports.
“Wait... Your name isn’t Lizewski?” You chuckled. “Christ, my bad... I always thought that was just your first name.” Your feeling of guilt for the boy before you flared up a bit again. He was being really nice to you, offering you something personal of his that he probably spent a pretty penny on. And you didn’t even know his actual name before. No wonder some people thought you were a bit of a bitch, you thought to yourself. 
“Hey, uhm... I know you got a bunch of these, and my dad would kill me if he knew I was reading them. He hates vigilantes, and he thinks reading comics will get me into the whole thing. Stupid, I know, but... He takes it surprisingly seriously.” You put the comic away carefully. “So I have a proposition for you.”
His eyebrows rose a little. A proposition, alright. No big deal. Could be literally anything though. 
“Come to my house this Saturday, bring a bunch of these, and I’ll tell my dad you’re coming to tutor me for physics or something.” You tilted your head a little, your locks falling gently over your shoulders. “I’ll pay you. Money’s not a problem. It’ll be like I’m renting them from you.”
He thought for a second, but in all honesty... How was this not a total win/win situation? He got to be in a pretty girl’s room, read comics with her, talk about them and make money. What kind of idiot would say no to that? “Yeah! Sounds good to me, uh... What do you want me to...” His words trailed off as you pulled out a pen and reached for his hand, writing a string of numbers on the back of it. 
“I’ll text you the address, and which series I like. I’ll let you do the picking. Oh, and Dave?”
“Y-Yeah?” He felt like his heart was going to beat right out of his chest. This is the closest you’ve ever stood to him. 
Your grip on his hand tightens, and you look up at him with a death stare. “Not a word to anyone about this.” You followed with a cutesy smile. “Alrighty?” You let go of his hand and put your stuff away before pulling out your car keys. 
Dave stands frozen in place, a faint blush already spread across his cheeks. He swore you were going to be the death of him. He looked down for a second and realized that what you wrote down wasn’t just some random numbers. It was your phone number. It all just suddenly felt very real to him, he’d never gotten a girl’s number before. And you were just about the last person he’d expect it from too.
You got in your car and turned on your engine. “See ya on Saturday, Lizewski! Don’t be late or I’ll kill you!” You smile, before driving off at a totally normal and acceptable speed. 
He gave a nervous wave before he looked back down at his hand. There was a little heart scribbled behind the phone number. It probably meant nothing.
But boy did it make his heart flutter. 
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henry-fox-biggest-stan · 11 months ago
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Some more obscure and / or underrated lesbian literature : An incomplete list made by a lesbian in hopes of making other sapphics happy
(I haven’t read all of them)
Sorted by years (this rapidly became a history lesson of lesbian literature sorry I’m a nerd)
Ancient times
(A good article about lesbians in ancient greece / rome)
Queen Zhuang Jiang 庄姜 (???- BC 690) / We know about Sappho and Enheduanna, but what about her? She wrote poems some of which were, uh, pretty gay. I learnt about her here. It is said than her poems are in The Book of Songs (which is a collection of ancient Chinese poetry). I couldn’t find a lot about her but I found enough to believe than (hopefully) she was a real person and the internet isn't lying to me.
Dialogues of the courtesans - Lucian of Samosata (somewhere in the second century BC) / Basically Dialogues of the courtesans is a collection of dialogues between well, courtesans (prostitutes). Either between themselves or between clients. One of the dialogues is called “The Lesbians”. Link to read (somehow finding a pdf of Dialogues of the courtesans is pretty hard but reading it chapter by chapter online it’s not??)
The Babyloniaka - Iamblichus (somewhere in the second century AC) / Lost novel, so all you need to know is here
Of course we can’t forget this Pompeii poem
1200s
Bieiris de Romans (somewhere in the first half of the 1200s) / Bieiris was a French poet, and we only have one of her poems with us because the others have been lost. We don’t know much (anything) about her, except that she was a woman, French, and who wrote about a woman called Maria. Some say that this mysterious Maria referred to the Virgin Mary, others than Maria was her gf, and others than she was writing in the perspective of a man (because obviously a woman writing about other women in a not so platonic way is unthinkable). Anyway, feel free to get your own conclusions, here’s the poem (translated)
1500s
The Sword and the Pen: Women, Politics, and Poetry in Sixteenth-Century Siena - Konrad Eisenbichler / So while this is a modern book, it is the only one I’ve been able to find than includes Laudomia Forteguerri’s poems (1515-1555). Some historians considered her to be the earliest Italian lesbian writer. “Although only six of her sonnets have survived, all are testaments to the love she bore for other women, and five are specifically dedicated to Margaret of Austria.”
The Maitland Quarto / Manuscript (1586) / So, this is a collection of 95 scot poems, and poem 49 is pretty sapphic. It’s technically anonymous, but it has been attributed to Marie Maitland (who transcripted the manuscript and is thought to have added her own poems there). The last lines mean “'There is more constancy in our sex / Than ever among men has been”, I haven’t been able to translate the rest of it. The poem.
Galatea - John Lyly (1592) / “Galatea (or Gallathea) and Phillida who are dressed up in male clothes by their fathers so that they can avoid the requirement of the god Neptune that every year "the fairest and chastest virgin in all the country" be sacrificed to a sea-monster. Hiding together in the forest, the two maidens fall in love, each supposing the other to be a young man.”
1600s
The Flower's Shadow Behind the Curtain - Ko Lien Hua Ying (somewhere in the 1600s) / It is said this book was written towards the end of the Ming dynasty (1368 to 1644). It’s a erotic book, and chapter 22 includes an erotic story between two 16 year old girls. I found it in Sex in China: Studies in Sexology in Chinese Culture by Fang Fu Ruan (believe it or not, I don’t just randomly know all this books, I did research)
Aphra Behn (1640-1689) / English writer, one of the first female writers to live through her writing. She was also a spy. She wrote a lot about women. “Homoeroticism is standard in Behn's verse, either in descriptions such as these of male to male relationships or in depictions of her own attractions to women. Behn was married and widowed early, and as a mature woman her primary publicly acknowledged relationship was with a gay male, John Hoyle, himself the subject of much scandal.” (here). She wrote a lesbian love poem (in the link before, it also makes an analysis of it). The poem: To The Fair Clarinda
Poems, Protest, and a Dream: Selected Writings - Juana Inés De la Cruz (1648-1695) / So the thing about Juana is than every single spanish-speaking lesbian knows her (and loves her), but hardly anyone who doesn’t speak spanish has ever heard of her, which is a shame, because she’s an absolute icon. She was a Mexican nun who was also incredibly gay. You know how Sappho is called the tenth muse? Juana is also called the (mexican) tenth muse. She’s also called the phoenix of America, which is incredibly badass. She learnt how to read at 3 years old, at 8, she asked her mother to send her to college dressed as a man (her mother refused). She learnt and studied by her own, because she wanted to learn. She studied by cutting her hair (if she got something wrong or forgot something, she cut a strand of her hair as a punishment) because she said that “a head adorned with hair is worthless if it’s a head naked of ideas”. When she was sixteen (important to note than she already spoke Latin fluently at 12, having mastered it in just a few lessons) the archbishop Payo Enríquez de Rivera heard of her, and decided to ask her to be the company lady of his wife (his wife and her eventually would have a relationship) and decided to test her intelligence. He got 40 (!!!) university profesor of all subjects, and they all asked her questions related to maths, literature, philosophy, etc. She answered all of them right. At around 21, she decided to become a nun (not out of faith, but because it was either becoming a nun and being able to continue her education, or marrying a man and stop studying. To her, the choice was clear). Also it is said she owned around 4000 books in her personal library. So yeah, an educated, extremely intelligent gal, who wrote lesbian love poems to her gf, and who was definitely not afraid to stand up for herself.
1700s
The Game of Flats - Nicholas Rowe? (1715) / Poem, “game of flats” was an 18th century slang for lesbian sex. Link to read <- that website includes lots of 18th century queer history and poems like this one
The Sappho-an - Anonymous (1735 or 1749) / When I first heard of this I couldn’t believe it. It sounds like an AO3 fanfic, or some modern erotic book (one of those than have a real person in the cover), or maybe a forgotten 1970s lesbian book. It’s none of that. It’s an anonymous poem written in the 1700s. The plot? The goddesses of Olympus are sexually unsatisfied because the gods keep on going after mortals (except Ares, he’s just too busy with war) instead of paying attention to them. The gods keep going after woman and male mortals, so Hera just says yknow what if they can sleep with men then we can sleep with each other. Sappho also appears. Link to read.
Fanny Hill, Memoirs of a Woman of Pleasure - John Cleland (1742) / Ok fine, this one is not sapphic but the main character (female) does have sex with a woman at one point. This is basically an erotic novel. Very dirty (specially for the time period) and very banned in lots of places. The main character is Fanny, a prostitute. It includes lots of straight sex, some gay (mlm) sex, and two pages where Fanny describes in detail having sex with Phoebe, bisexual prostitute. Not sapphic, but thought it was worth mentioning.
1810s
Christabel - Samuel Taylor Coleridge (1816) / So, have you heard of Carmilla (1872)? If you’re reading this post, you probably have, if you haven’t, it’s a classic (vampire) book than is said to have inspired Bram Stoker to write Dracula. It’s also incredibly gay. Well, some say it was Christabel than was the inspiration for Carmilla. Of course we don’t know this for sure, but the similarities definitely are there. Review from a reader: “what if we were the protagonist and villain of a never-completed sensual gothic poem (and we were both girls) / alternately: when you meet a wickedhot girl only she's SPOOKY but that's SEXY and turns out your dad and her dad were also gay back in the day before having a sexy gay falling-out and she's like 'babe let's get naked and hold each other close' and you're like '—wait fuck I mean uhhhh I PRETEND I DO NOT SEE IT!'” I haven’t read this one, however for what it seems Christabel is not explicitly a vampire. Since the poem is unfinished we don’t know the end, and we just think she’s a vampire because so many things used in here were also reused for vampires characterization (like not being able to enter a house unless invited)
1830s
Mademoiselle de Maupin - Théophile Gautier (1835) / “A woman uses her incredible beauty to captivate both d'Albert, a young poet, and disguised as a man, his mistress, Rosette. In this shocking tale of sexual deception, Gautier draws readers into the bedrooms and boudoirs of a French château in a compelling exploration of desire and sexual intrigue, and gives voice to a longing which is larger in scope, namely, the wish for completeness in oneself.”
1840s
Netochka Nezvanova - Fyodor Dostoyevsky (1849) / Incomplete because the author was exiled. Tells the story of Netochka Nezvanova, her childhood and adolescence, and the many many bad things that happen to her. She falls in love with a girl as well.
1870s
Mademoiselle Giraud, My Wife - Adolphe Belot (1870) / “The sensational Mademoiselle Giraud, My Wife tells of the suffering of a naive young man whose new bride will not agree to consummate the marriage. Eventually he learns from an acquaintance, to his amazement, that their wives are lovers.” In reviews it says than this is a homophobic novel (who’s surprised) but “Christopher Rivers argues in his introduction that the protagonist's homophobic attitude toward lesbianism is ironically linked to his intimate homosocial bonds with men”
1880s
Jill - Amy Dillwyn (1884) / “Jill is the story of an unconventional heroine—a gentlewoman who disguises herself as a maid and runs away to London in search of adventure after her mother dies and her father is pursued by a Victorian gold-digger. Once in London she uses her position as lady's maid to become close to her mistress. Her life above and below stairs is portrayed with irreverent wit in this fast-paced story, but at the centre of the novel is Jill's unfolding love for the woman she works for. On the surface a feminist manifesto, Jill is a poignant story of same-sex desire and unrequited love. A new introduction tells the autobiographical story on which the novel is based —the author's own passionate attachment to a woman she called her wife, but who she couldn't have.”
Mephistophela - Catulle Mendès (1889) / “Telling the story of Baronne Sophor d'Hermelinge, a woman as thoroughly martyrized by her creator as any other heroine in the history of fiction, in spite of the enormous competition for that title established by countless writers, male and female, it is one of the archetypal novels of the Decadent Movement, and one of the most striking, precisely because is it such a discomfiting piece of writing, the deliberately controversial nature of which has been further enhanced as its surrounding social context has changed over time. Highly influential, especially on the works of such writers as Jean Lorrain and Renée Vivien, Mephistophela, in placing lesbian amour in the foreground of the story, deals forthrightly and intensively with a literary theme that had previously only been treated with delicacy and indecision, mostly in poetry. It is essentially a horror story about demonic possession, about contrived and cruel damnation, devoid even of a Faustian pact, which merely employs obsessive lesbian desire as an instrument of damnation.” Goodreads review: “As a story it is quite straightforward. Girl has same-sex desires and the novel follows her various affairs up to about the age of thirty. […] More controversially, Stableford (and the books blurb) suggests that it is a novel of demonic possession. Now Brian has probably forgotten more than I will ever learn about the period but a few of the episodes show distinct Charcotian traits (an early childhood 'illness', two doctors in conversation etc) and a (really great) fantasy/visionary episode in the book seems to show, to me, the influence of Michelets book on witchcraft. If anything, the book seems even more subversive that Stableford suggests, as Sophie seems largely 'out and proud' and the author often says that she is 'is as she is' suggesting to me that it is 'natural' rather than demonic. I wonder whether the publisher asked Mendes to add some suggestion of the demonic to 'tone down' the idea that people were actually like 'that'.”
1890s
Avant la nuit / Before the dark - Marcel Proust (1893) / Short story (seriously, less than 10 pages). I read it the other day before bed and it’s pretty good. Talks about Françoise, a woman, revealing her homosexuality to her friend Leslie.
A Sunless Heart - Edith Johnstone (1894) / “Its first third focuses on Gasparine O'Neill, who shares an intense connection with her sickly twin brother, Gaspar. Living in poverty, the two struggle to live decently until Gaspar dies. Here gritty naturalism gives way to fantasy, as Gasparine is rescued from despair by the brilliant Lotus Grace, a much-admired teacher at the local Ladies' College. Sexually exploited from the age of twelve by her sister's fiancé, Lotus cannot love anyone, not even her illegitimate child. Gasparine devotes herself to Lotus, but Lotus finds her final brief happiness with a woman student, Mona Lefcadio, a passionate Trinidadian heiress. Exploring issues of race, sexuality, and class in compelling prose, A Sunless Heart is a startling re-discovery from the late- Victorian era. The appendices to this Broadview edition provide contemporary documents that illuminate the tension between romantic friendship and lesbian consciousness in the novel and address other debates in which the novel the nature of Creole identity, the education of women, and the dangers of childhood sexual exploitation.”
The Songs of Bilitis - Pierre Louÿs (1894) / Poetry. However, believe it or not, these were not written by a woman but by a man. Why add it then, well, the story is quite original. The author (Pierre Louÿs) published this verses as written in Ancient Greece by a “disciple of sappho” named Bilitis. He created this whole character, she was a woman, she was a poet, she was a sappho disciple, her work has been lost until now, and she was a huge lesbian. Of course, this is not true, but still, it’s an interesting read. “Between their open celebration of lesbian love and the eventual revelation of their true authorship—the verses actually were written by French novelist and poet Pierre Louÿs—they became a succès de scandale. Although debunked as a work of antiquity, The Songs of Bilitis remains a classic of erotic literature.”
1900s
A Woman's Affair - Liane de Pougy (1901) / "Despite her beauty and her riches, Annhine de Lys, one of the most notorious courtesans of 1890s Paris, is bored and restless. Into her life bursts Flossie, a young American woman, and everything changes. The love she offers Annhine is dangerous, perverse and hard to resist. Ignoring the warnings of her best friend, Annhine encourages the affair."
I Await the Devil's Coming - Mary MacLane (1902) / “Mary MacLane's I Await the Devil's Coming is a shocking, brave and intelectually challenging diary of a 19-year-old girl living in Butte, Montana in 1902. Written in potent, raw prose that propelled the author to celebrity upon publication, the book has become almost completely forgotten. In the early 20th century, MacLane's name was synonymous with sexuality; she is widely hailed as being one of the earliest American feminist authors, and critics at the time praised her work for its daringly open and confesional style. In its first month of publication, the book sold 100,000 copies--a remarkable number for a debut author, and one that illustrates MacLane's broad appeal.” She’s pretty sapphic and claims her (female) lit teacher is her true love. Also an excerpt from a Goodreads review: “She awaits the Devil to come and marry her and bring happiness if only for three days, meanwhile rehearsing suicide. She prays to the Devil to deliver her from “unripe bananas; from bathless people; from a waist-line that slopes up in the front" but offers sensuous instructions on how to eat an olive, and enjoys porterhouse steaks and fudge she makes with brown sugar. It's quite a ride. Many recent reviewers pigeonhole her as an ahead-of-her-time Goth or emo, simply transcribing an eternal and universal teen angst.”
Q.E.D. - Gertrude Stein (1903) - Autobiographical short story about a love triangle between three women; Adele (Stein), Mabel, manipulative and wealthy, and Helen, who seduces Adele.
A Woman Appeared To Me - Renée Vivien (1904) / I have no idea how to explain this book other than it's all I ever wanted and it has an absolutely breathtaking prose. Think of The Picture of Dorian Gray, Oscar Wilde’s writing style and descriptions, the character's philosophy, and the queer toxic relationships in the book. Now make it lesbian and even more explicitly queer. Also I'm pretty sure the main characters want to fuck Sappho. On the second chapter the main characters + some side characters (all women + one guy) are having a discussion (a symposium of sorts) about how much they love sappho and how believing she married a man is stupid and how they don’t hate men, just really dislike them, and the guy says: "Mademoiselle, you are trying to hide from the irresistible seduction of the male. You will certainly finish your love-life in the arms of a man." And our main character being an icon finished the chapter answering him this: "That would be a crime against nature, sir. I have too much respect for our friend to believe her capable of an abnormal passion!". It’s so good. I have seen mixed opinions on this one, but I’m just gonna say: the girls than get it, get it. Everything by Renée Vivien is so good, but this is her only full novel I think (she also wrote poems and short stories). If you have to read only one book out of all the books in this post, let it be this one.
Zezé - Ángeles Vicente (1909) / Not translated (I think) but it’s the first lesbian novel written in Spanish which is pretty cool (even cooler than it was written by a woman who, in 1909 (or around it) divorced her husband and lived through her writing). The plot is basically, the narrator (the author) is on a ship and shares the cabin where she’s staying with another woman, Zezé, a cuplé singer, who tells her about her life (her childhood in a religious school, where she discovered her sexuality with had a relationship with another (female) student, her life in Madrid as an adult and living life as a woman, etc)
1910s
Despised & Rejected - Rose Allatini (1918) / A gay man and a lesbian are friends during WWI, which they are against (an anti-war novel). I think the book is in the perspective of the gay man, but his friend is also a main character.
The Scorpion - Anna Elisabet Weirauch (1919) / A review by a reader: “This book felt more like historical fiction than a novel actually written in 1919-1932, considering the explicitly lesbian relationships and coming of age and coming out style narrative. The story follows the life of Metta, a lesbian who grew up with a controlling family in Berlin. The narrative follows her from her first crush on her manipulative governess, to her first love the older and intelectual Olga, and her foray into the gay scene in Munich and beyond. The story isn't without suffering and it isn't just a love story despite how much you might want it to be. Definite trigger warnings for suicide (not Metta), poor mental health, homophobia and general cringe comments due to the time of writing. But the point of the book is for Metta to find a way to be, a way to live her life comfortably and happily, essentially to find herself.”
1920s
The Bacheloress - Victor Marqueritte (1922) / “Monique is an emancipated French woman who leaves home to escape a marriage of convenience to a man whom her parents have forced on her. She then succumbs to all sorts of carnal temptations including a lesbian love affair with a singer. The scandal provoked by Victor Margueritte's La Garçonne, here translated as The Bacheloress, led to its author having his legion d'honneur revoked, which only propelled this novel about a brazenly independent "new woman" to best-seller status. What was shocking then was not so much the reckless behavior of its heroine, who is depicted as the victim of psychological torment, but the portrait of the corrupt post-WWI society in which she lives. Authentic as Monique is, the types of love she encounters, set against the hostile and contemptuous portrayal of her peers, only amplifies her struggle.”
Yellow Rose - Nobuko Yoshiva (1923) / This is the only book than has been translated by this author, she was a lesbian who wrote Class-S romance (a Japanese book genre of the time, which focused on lesbian / homoerotic relationships between women [so-called romantic friendships], than usually take place in an all-girls boarding school). This specific story talks about a teacher-student relationship. She has other books, one called Yaneura no nishojo (two virgins in the attic) (1919) which isn’t translated, but sounds good, the story “is thought to be semi-autobiographical, and describes a female-female love experience with her dormmate. In the last scene, the two girls decide to live together as a couple. This work, in attacking male-oriented society, and showing two women as a couple after they have finished secondary education presents a strong feminist attitude, and also reveals Yoshiya's own lesbian sexual orientation”.
Freundinnen: ein Roman unter Frauen / Girlfriends: a Novel among Women - Maximiliane Ackers (1923) / Only in German, not translated. Review from an English reader: “This novel—which went through several editions in the 20s before being banned by the Nazis—is uncompromisingly, heartbreakingly queer. The novel tells the story of the love between two actresses in Wiemar Germany, Ruth and Erika. Both women struggle to support themselves on the stage, to live independently, and to come to terms with their love for each other and how they might live and express themselves and their desire.”
Surplus - Sylvia Stevenson (1924) / Review from a reader: “This book should be included in lists of seminal lesbian fiction. Published in 1924, Surplus is the story of Sally Wraith's young adult adventures after the end of WWI, during which period she served as an ambulance driver. The novel is not explicit and dos not detail a physical relationship between Sally and her romantic friend Averil but Sally refers to Averil as her "dream girl" with whom she wants to spend the rest of her life. This novel was published before Radclyffe Hall's Well of Loneliness , which is often hailed for its early negative portrayal of homophobia. But I find it compelling that Sally's love for Averil is not treated as deviant. It's just tragic for any babydyke to fall in love with a straight girl!”
The Captive - Eduard Bourdet (1926) / Theatre, “Irène is a lesbian tortured by her love for Madame d'Aiguines, but pretending engagement to Jacques (man). Though Irène attempts to leave Madame d'Aiguines and marry Jacques, she returns to the relationship, saying that it is "a prison to which I must return captive, despite myself". Madame d'Aiguines is not seen in the play, but leaves behind nosegays of violets for Irène, as a symbol of her love.” Read here
Women Lovers, or The Third Woman - Natalie Clifford Barney (1926) / “This long-lost novel recounts a passionate triangle of love and loss among three of the most daring women of belle époque Paris. In this barely disguised roman à clef, the legendary American heiress, writer, and arts patron Natalie Clifford Barney, the dashing Italian baroness Mimi Franchetti, and the beautiful French courtesan Liane de Pougy share erotic liaisons that break all taboos and end in devastation as one unexpectedly becomes the "third woman."
HERmione - H.D (1927) / “This autobiographical novel, an interior self-portrait of the poet H. D. (1886-1961) is what can best be described as a find, “a posthumous treasure”. In writing HERmione, H.D. returned to a year in her life that was peculiarly blighted. She was in her early twenties—a disappointment to her father, an odd duckling to her mother, an importunate, overgrown, unincarnated entity that had no place... Waves to fight against, to fight against alone... “I am Hermione Gart, a failure” —she cried in her dementia, “I am Her, Her, Her.” She had failed at Bryn Mawr, she felt hemmed in by her family, she did not yet know what she was going to do with her life. The return from Europe of the wild-haired George Lowndes (Ezra Pound) expanded her horizons but threatened her sense of self. An intense new friendship with Fayne Rabb (Frances Josepha Gregg), an odd girl who was, if not lesbian, then certainly of bisexual bent, brought an atmosphere that made her hold on everyday reality more tenuous. This stormy course led to mental breakdown, then to a turning point and a new beginning as her own true self, as Her"
Lucia Sánchez Saornil (1895 - 1970) / Spanish poet, putting her here because she’s part of generation ‘27. Read her Wikipedia page because she’s literally iconic (I can’t put the link here for some reason). I love her so much. She was an anarchist and very revolutionary. She wrote under a pen name to be able to explicitly write about women and lived with her partner (América Barroso) until she died. I haven’t been able to find an English translation of her writing, but I do have found a French one, so better than nothing
Dusty Answer - Rosamond Lehmann (1927) / Coming of age story of Judith Earle, sensitive, lonely, who grew up as an only child, but with 4 neighbors (all cousins) to make her company (and eventually harbor romantic feelings for). Then she moves to college, where she meets Jennifer and enters a relationship with her. Although the relationship is not explicitly romantic.
Ladies Almanack - Djuna Barnes (1928) / “Written as a medieval calendar, Ladies Almanack is a clever parody of the crazy sapphic circle of Natalie Barney and her Académie des Femmes. Sharp, biting, witty and transgressive, it is also a modern and pioneer in his vision of lesbianism and the issues surrounding relationships between women. The emotional endogamy, transvestism, motherhood, marriage or differences between sex and gender are already presented in the book with a charge of irony and acidity that is rare in the treatment of the topic. And it is also a breath of fresh air, an essential reference to know the world of lesbian women in all its breadth and diversity.”
1930s
The Angel and the Perverts - Lucie Delarue-Mardrus (around 1930) / "Set in the lesbian and gay circles of Paris in the 1920s, The Angel and the Perverts tells the story of a hermaphrodite born to upper class parents in Normandy and ignorant of his/her physical difference. As an adult, s/he lives a double life as Marion/Mario, passing undetected as a lesbian in the literary salons of the times, and as a gay man in the cocaine dens made famous by Colette." Technically not lesbian, but it’s “set in the lesbian cercles of Paris”
Broderie Anglaise - Violet Trefusis (1935) / Technically not a lesbian novel, but by a sapphic author. Do you know about Virginia Woolf and Vita Sackville-West? Of course you do, everyone does. However, do you know than Violet Trefusis used to be Vita���s lover? They dated as teens and again as adults. There’s this whole gay toxic romantic circle between Violet, Vita, and Virginia. Violet wrote this book where she’s basically adding Vita, Virginia, and herself into the characters and dissing them. The plot centers on an encounter between Alexa, a celebrated English writer (Virginia), and her rival, Anne (Violet), and their discussion about their mutual lover, Lord Shorne (Vita).
Summer Will Show - Sylvia Townsend Warner (1936) / Sophia Willoughby's husband has a mistress who he cheats on her with. So she grabs him and packs him up to Paris with his mistress. She'll raise their children and he can have his mistress all day long if he wants, what she wants is to not see him. Sadly, her children die, and she goes to Paris, where she'll find her husband's mistress, and the two of them start an affair with eachother.
Diana: A Strange Autobiography - Diana Frederics (1939) / “«This is the unusual and compelling story of Diana, a tantalizingly beautiful woman who sought love in the strange by-paths of Lesbos. Fearless and outspoken, it dares to reveal that hidden world where perfumed caresses and half-whispered endearments constitute the forbidden fruits in a Garden of Eden where men are never accepted». This is how A Strange Autobiography was described when it was published in paperback in 1952. The original 1939 hardcover edition carried with it a Publisher's This is the autobiography of a woman who tried to be normal. In the book, Diana is presented as the unexceptional daughter of an unexceptional plutocratic family. During adolescence, she finds herself drawn with mysterious intensity to a girl friend. The narrative follows Diana's progress through college; a trial marriage that proves she is incapable of heterosexuality; intelectual and sexual education in Europe; and a series of lesbian relationships culminating in a final tormented triangular struggle with two other women for the individual salvation to be found in a happy couple.”
1940s
Nada - Carmen Laforet (1945) / ok fine, technically not explicitly lesbian, but the author is sapphic and the main character is such a lesbian. Set in post-civil war spain, Andrea, an 18 year old girl who just moved to Barcelona from her small town is starting university (studying literature). She lives with her mom’s side of the family that lives in the city, in a gothic horror-esque house that shows the decay of the family. Including great tragedy-filled characters and incredible prose, I enjoyed every single second of this. The title literally translates to “nothing” (there do is an English translation, it simply kept the og title). Andrea is an observer, a girl who feels so incredibly real, filled with dreams and doubts and love and loneliness. She becomes best friends with a girl from her class named Eda who she definitely has a crush on. She doesn’t date any man, is more, shows aversion to the idea, and there’s a moment in the book where she wishes she was “able to fall in love with him”. I mean c’mon. I loved every second of this it’s SO good please read it I beg you.
Hidden Path - Elena Fortún (somewhere around the 1940s) / Maria Luisa grows up on 1910s/1920s Spain. She is a peculiar girl, one who despises wearing dresses and wants to dress as a sailor, who could spend all day reading, who loves painting, and who swears she will never marry. Oh, and she's also a lesbian. Based on the author's life Maria Luisa is kind of the author's alter ego, and it follows her from childhood to adulthood while dealing with a world not created with people like her in mind. (Not published until 2016)
El Pensionado de Santa Casilda / The Boarding School of Saint Casilda - Elena Fortún (somewhere around the 1940s) / This book is not translated, but if you know spanish I recommend to pick it up. A group of 14/15 year old girls who go to the same spanish all-girls boarding school, and they are all in love with each other. It follows them into adulthood and how they navigate their lives being women and lesbians in the past (Not published until 2022). Messy lesbians at its finest. Like, seriously. Lesbians still in love with their ex and not over their first love, dating their friends and their ex friend, and the ex of their friend, and having sugar mommies, etc etc
1960s
Winter Love - Han Suyin (1962) / “As a college student in London during the bitterly cold winter of 1944, Red falls in love with her married classmate Mara. Their affair unleashes a physical passion, a jealousy, and a sense of self-doubt that sweep all her previous experiences aside and will leave her changed forever. Set against the rubble of the bombed city, in a time of gray austerity and deprivation, Winter Love recalls a life at its most vivid.”
The Chinese Garden - Rosemary Manning (1962) / “A "very intelligent, sensitive, and compelling" novel of adolescent rebellion and sexual awakening at a girls' boarding school (Anthony Burgess). Set in a repressive British girls' boarding school in the late 1920s—where not only sexuality but femininity is squashed—the novel is the coming-of-age story of sixteen-year-old Rachel, a sensitive, bright, and innocent student. Rachel finds refuge from the Spartan conditions, strict regime, fierce discipline, and formidable headmistress at Bampfield in a secret garden. She also finds friendship there, with a rebellious girl named Margaret. As Margaret has her mind expanded by a scandalous tome entitled The Well of Loneliness, she engages in a bold, forbidden act—the ultimate transgression at Bampfield—and Rachel is drawn into the turmoil. Confronted with the persecution of her friend and troubled by a growing awareness of her own sensuality, Rachel faces an imposible choice that drives her to desperate measures.”
The Microcosm - Maureen Duffy (1966) / “At the House of Shades, Matt, a bar-room philosopher, tries to make sense of the disparate lives which cross here -- of Judy who saves herself and her finery for a Saturday night lover, of Steve the gym teacher who dreads a chance encounter with a pupil in this twilight environment, and of Matt herself, who needs these vicarious exchanges despite the security of her relationship with Rae and her sense that this lesbian sanctuary is a prison too, enforcing the guilt and estrangement of the city streets beyond. Elsewhere there are women such as Marie, trapped within an unwanted marriage and unable to admit her sexuality, and Cathy, for whom the discovery that she is not 'the only one in the world' is an affirmation of her existence. With its innovative structure and style, perfectly mirroring the voices and experiences of women forced by society to live on the margins, The Microcosm remains as powerful today as when originally published in 1966.”
A Place For Us / Patience & Sarah - Isabel Miller (1969) / First named A Place For Us, then changed to Patience & Sarah. Not necessarily obscure, but no one ever talks about it. Based on a real life story, “In the early nineteenth century, in a puritanical New England town, two women fall in love. With no one to guide or support them, Patience and Sarah try to follow their hearts. Defying society and history, they buy a farm and discover they can live together, away from the world that had sought to limit them and their love…”
1970s
Beginning with O - Olga Broumas (1977) / A poetry collection by a lesbian, greek writer.
The Same Sea as Every Summer - Esther Tusquets (1978) / A stream-of-consciousness type book, by an author who has been compared to Virginia Woolf. “Poetic and erotic, El mismo mar de todos los veranos ( The Same Sea As Every Summer ) was originally published in Spain in 1978, three years after the death of Franco and in the same year that government censorship was abolished. But even in a new era that fostered more liberal attitudes toward divorce, homosexuality, and women's rights, this novel by Esther Tusquets was controversial. Its feminine view of sexuality (in particular, its depiction of a lesbian relationship) was unprecedented in Spanish fiction. The disillusioned narrator of The Same Sea As Every Summer is a middle-aged woman whose unhappy life prompts a journey into she past to rediscover a more authentic self. However, events force her to realize that love or trust will inevitably be repaid by betrayal. This pattern assumes various forms in a story that moves forward as well as backward, playing out in Barcelona among the haute bourgeoisie. Richly textured with allusion, The Same Sea As Every Summer is also a commentary on post-Civil War Spanish society by an author who grew up during the repressive Franco regime.”
Así es: Mi vida 3 - Victorina Durán (somewhere in the late 1970s) / So, not translated but has great historical value. Basically, this is the third book out of Victorina’s memories that she wrote in the 70s. Victorina (1899 - 1993) was so cool. She was an icon. She was a sceneographer, a painter, a costume designer, writer (aside from her memories, she has some theatre plays), etc. She actually wanted to be an actress. She was part of the Círculo Sáfico de Madrid (the sapphic club of Madrid, a club made out of her and her friends, who were sapphic) among others. She never hid her sexuality. She was friends with almost all the importante well known people in 1920s / 1930s Spain. This book is the third one out of her memories, and it’s focused explicitly on her relationships (all with women). She said she wanted to focus on them and give them a book of their own, so this is of great historical value, giving insights into the queer spaces, lesbian scene, wlw relationships and being gay at that time. I need to read it so bad if someone has a pdf please tell me I’ll send them my fanfic wips
1980s
On Strike against God - Joanna Russ (1980) / “A lost feminist masterwork by feminist and speculative fiction icon, Joanna Russ, about a young lesbian's coming-to-consciousness during the social upheaval of the 1970s. When Esther, a recently divorced professor, has her first lesbian love affair, the fallout brings her everyday miseries into focus and precipitates a personal crisis. She flees her small, upstate New York college town, grapples with gender confusion and the ghosts of therapists past, and fumbles her way through comedic sexual self-discovery, oscillating all the while between visionary confidence and debilitating self-doubt. Confronted with the homophobia of straight feminists and the misogyny of gay men, Esther is left to forge a language for her feminism and her burgeoning lesbian desire. On Strike Against God is quintessentially experimental but accesible, alternately wry and earnest, poignantly didactic, playful, and emotionally charged.” From a review: “For anyone like me who's unfamiliar with the quote which inspired the title: A judge was sentencing a picketer from the early twentieth century shirtwaist-makers strike (the first large scale strike by women), and he told her, "You are striking against God and Nature, whose law is that man shall earn his bread by the sweat of his brow. You are on strike against God!"
Faultline - Sheila Ortiz Taylor (1982) / “An outrageous, zesty, funny Lesbian novel; the adventures of a Lesbian mother with six children, three hundred rabbits, and very relaxed attitude."
The Swashbuckler - Lee Lynch (1985) / "Frenchy Tonneau leaves her closeted home in the Bronx for the bars of New York City, the freedom of Provincetown, and the liberation of Greenwich Village in the 1960s and 1970s. Her hangouts, her women, her small yet universal world tell the stories of the times - and the stories of lesbians today. A timeless journey and a riveting read, The Swashbuckler is heart-wrenching, heartwarming, and unforgettable." Butch main character, lesbian life in the 60s/70s, lesbian-feminism, butchfemme, etc.
Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Café - Fannie Flagg (1987) / listen, LISTEN, I know this book is not obscure, absolutely not given it even has a movie adaptation, but people do not give this book the love it deserves. I'm constantly thinking about Idgie and Ruth, they are one of my favorite fictional couples ever, and also my favorite lesbian fictional couple. They are such interesting characters with such an interesting dynamic and I just love them so so much. A femmebutch couple in 1920s Alabama, who go through many hardships but still find eachother, still end together, and even have a restaurant, live together, and raise a kid. And not only them, but the book is made out of 4 main characters (or 3 depends on if you see Ninny as a main character or not), Idgie, Ruth, and Ninny and Evelyn. Evelyn, an 80s depressed housewife in her 40s finds solace and a true friend in Ninny, a 90 year old woman staying at a nursing home (not ‘cause she needs it, but to keep a friend company). Ninny tells her the story of Idgie (her, kind of, sister) and Ruth, her best friend and lover. Evelyn finds feminism and hope through the memories, getting inspired by Idgie and Ruth's story and becoming happier in her life. It has several points of views and it jumps between years (first 1980s, then 1920s, then 1940s, then 1980s again, etc) and it also talks a lot about racism in 1920s Alabama, and i'll just stop because I love this book so much and i could go on forever. Oh, and also they murder a man and feed him to a police officer.
Lovers' choice - Becky Birtha (1987) / A collection of eleven short stories about lesbian women.
1990s
Out Of Time - Paula Martinac (1990) / Susan finds an old photograph album with pictures from the 1920s, all pictures being of a group of women (four in total). She's told it's not for sale, but she steals it anyway. After some digging, she finds out than two of the girls from the photos were lovers! And not only is Susan trying to navigate the details of her life and of her relationship with her own girlfriend, but she obsesses over the women in the picture, and eventually, the spirits of the girls start to haunt her.
The Gilda Stories - Jewele Gomez (1991) / Gilda escaped from slavery in the 1850s, until she's taken by a vampire who (consensually) turns her into a vampire too. Gilda moves through the decades finding community and connections and helping people, and slowly builds a place for herself in time. (Fine, not actually obscure since I’ve seen it all around the internet, but it just sounds so good)
The Dyke and the Dybbuk - Ellen Galford (1993) / “Dybbuk Kokos, a feisty soul-stealing demon of medieval Jewish folklore, has been trapped in a tree for two hundred years. When lightning strikes and Kokos is released, she finds herself in the world of the 20th century -- as the disgruntled employee of the multinational corporation, Mephistco. In order to keep her job and fulfill an ancient curse, Kokos must hunt down the descendant of the woman she was instructed to haunt centuries ago. No easy task, as that descendant happens to be Rainbow Rosenbloom -- London taxi-driver, film critic, lesbian, and niece to a pack of formidable aunts. As the hilarious tale unfolds, both Rainbow and her dybbuk discover that History still holds a few tricks up her sleeve.”
Annabel and I - Chris Anne Wolfe (1996) / Plot summed up by a reader: “Half-orphaned Jenny-Wren spends her summers at her uncle Jake's fishing lodge on Lake Chautauqua. One summer day when she's twelve years old while boating with her uncle, she finds a girl on the end of a dock reaching futilely for her escaped model boat. Jenny swims over and rescues the boat, meeting the orphaned Annabel, spending her summers at her grandmother's summer estate. This begins a friendship that endures and grows for years as the two girls spent each summer together, only to be separated at the end of summer. As the two grow older, they realize a magic is at work that keeps bringing them together, despite the near century between them. As the summers come and go, the two young women discover their love for each other, and the realization that their love is imposible. Can their love persist beyond those fleeting summers and flourish, in the face of time?”. Review from a reader: “The foreword says this book is for all wlw, and that, "Because there are as many different ways to love a woman as there are women who love women; it's the loving, not the label, that really matters." That really captured the core of what this book does, it treasures the love we create with our bare hands for and with another woman.” A time travel romance (Jenny is from the 1980s, Annabel from 1890s)
Ain't Gonna Be the Same Fool Twice - April Sinclair (1996) / Bisexual mc. “Jean "Stevie" Stevenson, the indomitable heroine of "Coffee Will Make You Black," is back—somewhat older and wiser, with some experience and a college degree -- diving headfirst into the hot tub, free love, yoga, and vegetarian lifestyle of 1970s San Francisco. In this liberating new world of raised consciousness, mind-expanding, and disco-dancing, a soul sister with passion and daring has room to experiment with life and love to find out who she "really" is.”
Beyond the Pale - Elana Dykewomon (1997) / “The story of two Jewish women living through times of darkness and inhumanity in the early 20th century, capturing their undaunted love and courage in luminous and moving prose. The richly textured novel details Gutke Gurvich's odyssey from her apprenticeship as a midwife in a Russian shtetl to her work in the suffrage movement in New York. Interwoven with her tale is that Chava Meyer, who was attended by Gurvich at her birth and grew up to survive the pogrom that took the lives of her parents. Throughout the book, historical background plays a large part: Jewish faith and traditions, the practice of midwifery, the horrific conditions in prerevolutionary Russia and New York sweatshops, and the determined work of labor unionists and suffragists." While it is a romance, it's also more than that, it's about the life of Jewish women in the 20th century.
Crystal Diary - Frankie Hucklenbroich (1997) / “Frankie Hucklenbroich's razor-edged, compelling, often wryly humorous story hustles us from the blood-and-beer-drenched corners of her St. Louis meat-packing district '50s youth, through the sex-soaked Hollywood alleys of her '60s baby butch years, into the druggy metropolis of '70s San Francisco. Moving relentlessly from one woman to another until faces and bodies blur, scamming her existence, learning what the street has to how to make a buck, how to make it with a woman, how to court the dangers of crystal meth, how to survive.”
Hers 3 - Terry Wolverton (1999) / Short stories
2000s
Valencia - Michelle Tea (2000) / "Valencia is the fast-paced account of one girl's search for love and high times in the drama-filled dyke world of San Francisco's Mission District. Through a string of narrative moments, Tea records a year lived in a world of girls: there's knife-wielding Marta, who introduces Michelle to a new world of radical sex; Willa, Michelle's tormented poet-girlfriend; Iris, the beautiful boy-dyke who ran away from the South in a dust cloud of drama; and Iris's ex, Magdalena Squalor, to whom Michelle turns when Iris breaks her heart."
Naked in the Promised Land: A Memoir - Lillian Faderman (2003) / “Born in 1940, Lillian Faderman is the only child of an uneducated and unmarried Jewish woman who left Latvia to seek a better life in America. Lillian grew up in poverty, but fantasised about becoming an actress. When her dreams led to the dangerous, seductive world of the sex trade and sham-marriages in Hollywood of the fifties, she realised she was attracted to women, and that show-biz is as cruel as they say. Desperately seeking to make her life meaningful, she studied at Berkeley; paying her way by working as a pin-up model and burlesque dancer, hiding her lesbian affairs from the outside world. At last she became a brilliant student and the woman who becomes a loving partner, a devoted mother, an acclaimed writer and ground-breaking pioneer of gay and lesbian scholarship. Told with wrenching immediacy and great power, Naked in the Promised Land is the story of an exceptional woman and her remarkable, unorthodox life.”
Her Naked Skin - Rebecca Lenkiewicz (2008) / Theatre. “Militancy in the Suffragette Movement is at its height. Thousands of women of all classes serve time in Holloway Prison in their fight to gain the vote. Amongst them is Lady Celia Cain who feels trapped by both the policies of the day and the shackles of a frustrating marriage. Inside, she meets a young seamstress, Eve Douglas, and her life spirals into an erotic but dangerous chaos. London 1913. A crucial moment when, with emancipation almost in sight, women refuse to let the establishment stand in their way.”
The Rain Before it Falls - Jonathan Coe (2008) / “A story of three generations of women whose destinies reach from the English countryside in World War Il to London, Toronto, and southern France at the turn of the new century. Evacuated to Shropshire during the Blitz, eight-year-old Rosamond forged a bond with her cousin Beatrix that augured the most treasured and devastating moments of her life. She recorded these memories sixty years later, just before her death, on cassettes she bequeathed to a woman she hadn't seen in decades. When her beloved niece, Gill, plays the tapes in hopes of locating this unwitting heir, she instead hears a family saga swathed in promise and the story of how Beatrix, starved of her mother's affection, conceived a fraught bloodline that culminated in heart-stopping tragedy—its chief victim being her own granddaughter. And as Rosamond explores the ties that bound these generations together and shaped her experience all along, Gill grows increasingly haunted by how profoundly her own recollections--not to mention the love she feels for her grown daughters, listening alongside her-- are linked to generations of women she never knew. A stirring, masterful portrait of motherhood and family secrets, "The Rain Before It Falls" is also a meditation on the tapestries we weave out of the past, whether transcendent or horrific.”
2010s
When We Were Outlaws - Jeanne Cordova (2011) / "A sweeping memoir, a raw and intimate chronicle of a young activist torn between conflicting personal longings and political goals. When We Were Outlaws offers a rare view of the life of a radical lesbian during the early cultural struggle for gay rights, Women's Liberation, and the New Left of the 1970s. Brash and ambitious, activist Jeanne Cordova is living with one woman and falling in love with another, but her passionate beliefs tell her that her first duty is "to the revolution".—to change the world and end discrimination against gays and lesbians."
Call Me Esteban - Leila Kalamuié (2015) / “With unapologetic vividness, Lejla Kalamujic depicts pre- and post-war Sarajevo by charting a daughter coping with losing her mother, but discovering herself. From imagined conversations with Franz Kafka to cozy apartments, psychiatric wards, and cemeteries, Call Me Esteban is a piercing meditation on a woman grasping at memories in the name of claiming her identity.”
Lancelot: Her Story - Carol Anne Douglas (2015) / Arthurian legend retelling! "A young girl sees a man rape and murder her mother. She grabs a stick and puts out his eye. Her father raises her as a boy so she will be safe from men's attacks. She practices and practices until she becomes a great fighter - Lancelot. She wants to protect women—and she does. Lancelot hears about King Arthur, a just king across the sea, and journeys to earn a place at Camelot. She vows to serve him. but fears that Arthur and his men will discover that she is a woman and send her away. Lancelot is shocked to realize that she is falling in love with the king's wife, Guinevere. Guinevere is a strong woman who would have preferred to be queen in her own right, not through marriage. Saxons attack Arthur's kingdom, and Lancelot finds out that fighting a war is far different from saving women in single combat. The savagery of war devastates her, she is living a lie, but she is also deeply in love…”
Jigsaw Youth - Tiffany Scandal (2015) / “Lose your best friend because you finally Came Out. Spend days driving aimlessly because there's nothing to do. Serve your rapist breakfast because you need your job. Fall asleep to gunshots and sirens because that's the only sense of home you've ever known. Hold hands with ghosts. Your life is in pieces, but you can't be broken. Wipe off the blood. Tired of being told who to be, what to wear, how to act and who to fuck. Break the rules and learn fast how to never get caught. All you need is nothing, but you're happy with your car, guitar and camera. Throwing around polaroids of tits like they're money, you swap stories about adventures and realize that we're all running away from something.”
Creatures of Will & Temper - Molly Tanzer (2017) / Recommended as a sapphic picture of dorian gray retelling, it tells the story of Dorina (hedonistic, art lover, and woman-kisser), her older sister Evadne (fencer and responsable), Lady Henrietta (suit-wearing, cigar-smoking lesbian who is a horrible influence), and Basil, Dorina and Evadne's uncle, and who's character has not changed much. They also summon demons.
The Adventures of China Iron - Gabriela Cabezón Cámara (2017) / “1872. The pampas of Argentina. China is a young woman eking out an existence in a remote gaucho encampment. After her no-good husband is conscripted into the army, China bolts for freedom, setting off on a wagon journey through the pampas in the company of her new-found friend Liz, a settler from Scotland. While Liz provides China with a sentimental education and schools her in the nefarious ways of the British Empire, their eyes are opened to the wonders of Argentina's richly diverse flora and fauna, cultures and languages, as well as to the ruthless violence involved in nation-building. This subversive retelling of Argentina's foundational gaucho epic Martín Fierro is a celebration of the colour and movement of the living world, the open road, love and sex, and the dream of lasting freedom. With humour and sophistication, Gabriela Cabezón Cámara has created a joyful, hallucinatory novel that is also an incisive critique of national myths.”
2020s
Thirst - Marina Yuszczuk (2020) / “Across two different time periods, two women confront fear, loneliness, mortality, and a haunting yearning that will not let them rest. It is the twilight of Europe's bloody bacchanals, of murder and feasting without end. In the nineteenth century, a vampire arrives from Europe to the coast of Buenos Aires and, for the second time in her life, watches as villages transform into a cosmopolitan city, one that will soon be ravaged by yellow fever. She must adapt, intermingle with humans, and be discreet. In present-day Buenos Aires, a woman finds herself at an impasse as she grapples with her mother's terminal illness and her own relationship with motherhood. When she first encounters the vampire in a cemetery, something ignites within the two women-and they cross a threshold from which there's no turning back. With echoes of Mary Shelley's Frankenstein and written in the vein of feminist Gothic writers like Shirley Jackson, Daphne du Maurier, and Carmen Maria Machado, Thirst plays with the boundaries of genre while exploring the limits of female agency, the consuming power of desire, and the fragile vitality of even the most immortal of creatures.” Lesbian vampires!
The Lives We Left Behind - Olivia Bratherton-Wilson (2021) / I read this one so long ago and I don’t remember everything with detail, just than I really liked it. “1943. Seventeen-year-old Dorotea Miller is given the responsibility of managing the family farm when her father and brother are conscripted, leaving her with only her distant mother and the unfamiliar Land Girls for company. Angeline Carter and her four younger brothers are evacuated to the Welsh countryside to escape the bombings; the Miller farm is nothing like they've seen before and certainly more than Angeline bargained for when she meets the surly, unwelcoming farmer's daughter. Despite their rocky start, misunderstandings and tragedies, Dorothea and Angeline realise that their friendship may run deeper than either of them had prepared for.” There is also a sequel! That one I haven’t read tho.
Agatha of Little Neon - Claire Luchette (2021) / "Agatha has lived every day of the last nine years with her sisters (the other nuns) : they work together, laugh together, pray together. Their world is contained within the little house they share. The four of them are devoted to Mother Roberta and to their quiet, purposeful life. But when the parish goes broke, the sisters are forced to move. They land in Woonsocket, a formermill town now dotted with wind turbines. […] Agatha is forced to venture out into the world alone, to teach math at a local all-girls high school, where for the first time in years she will have to reckon with what she sees and feels all on her own. Who will she be if she isn't with her sisters? These women, the church, have been her home--or has she just been hiding? […] It is a novel about female friendship and devotion, the roles made available to us, and how we become ourselves." Lesbian nuns
Burning Butch - R/B Mertz (2022) / A butch lesbian memoir of their life growing up catholic and surviving in the world, while dealing with faith and what it shape it takes to them.
London on My Mind - Clara Alves (2022) / So, the English translation just came out! Funny thing is, I started this in 2022 even tho I don’t know Portuguese (translating paragraph by paragraph with google translate) and it was pretty good. I haven’t finished it (translating a whole book with google translate is definitely work) but I’m so ready to read it now that it’s translated. Dayana (seventeen, black, plus size, and Brazilian) is forced to move to London with her father (who abandoned her mother and her) and his new family after her mother died. She’s having a pretty horrible time, until, on a walk, finds a redhead girl… escaping Buckingham Palace?? So of course, she helps her escape. Who exactly is this girl? Why was she escaping?? The answer, her name is Diana and she’s sort of (super) the princess of Wales. Huh.
Helen House - Kayla Kumari Upadhyaya (2022) / “Right before meeting her girlfriend Amber's parents for the first time, the unnamed narrator of Helen House learns that she and her partner share a similar both of their sisters are dead. As the narrator wonders what else Amber has been hiding, she struggles with her own secret--using sex as a coping mechanism--as well as confusion and guilt over whether she really cares about Amber, or if she's only using her for sex. When they arrive at the parents' rural upstate home, a quaint but awkward first meeting unravels into a nightmare in which the narrator finds herself stranded in a family's decades-long mourning ritual. At turns terrifying and erotic, Helen House is a queer ghost story about trauma and grief.”
Promises in Pompeii - Violet Morley (2022) / Set in Ancient Rome, it tells the story of two girls, Octavia and Helvia, childhood friends, and their journey through life as women and through their feelings. In the author ig, she said it includes: adventure/survival, against the odds, brothels, butch/femme, coming of age, disguised as a man, first love, friends to lovers, opposites attract, etc. I’m currently reading it, and I really like it so far.
Nettleblack - Nat Reeve (2022) / “Subversive and playful, Nettleblack is a neo-Victorian queer farce that follows a runaway heir/ess and an organisation of crime-fighting misfits as they struggle with the misdeeds besieging a rural English town. The year is 1893. Having run away from her family home to escape an arranged marriage, Welsh heiress Henrietta “Henry” Nettleblack finds herself ambushed, robbed, and then saved by the mysterious Dallyangle Division - part detective agency, part neighbourhood watch. Desperate to hide from her older sisters, Henry disguises herself and enlists. But the Division soon finds itself under siege from a spate of crimes and must fight for its very survival. Assailed by strange feelings for her new colleague - the tomboyish, moody Septimus - Henry quickly sees that she's lost in a small rural town with surprisingly big problems. And to make things worse, sinister forces threaten to expose her as the missing Nettleblack sister. As the net starts to close around Henry, the new people in her life seem to offer her a way out, and a way forward. Is the world she's lost in also a place she can find herself? Told through journal entries and letters, Nettleblack is a picaresque ride through the perils and joys of finding your place in the world, challenging myths about queerness - particularly transness - as a modern phenomenon, while exploring the practicalities of articulating queer perspectives when you're struggling for words.”
Sunburn - Chloe Michelle (2023) / In Ireland, the early 1990s, Lucy feels out of place in her small town. She falls in love with her best friend and she has to find a way to find herself, make a meaning out of her feelings, and hide the truth from her conservative small town and religious peers.
Lucky Red - Claudia Cravens (2023) / "A vibrant and cinematic debut set in the American West about a scrappy orphan who finds friendship, romance, and her true calling as a revenge-seeking gunslinger." Lesbian cowboys
Neon Roses - Rachel Dawson (2023) / “Eluned Hughes is stuck. It's 1984 in a valley in south Wales: the miners' strike is ravaging her community; her sister's swanned off with a Thatcherite policeman; and her boyfriend Lloyd keeps bringing up marriage. And if they play '99 Red Balloons' on the radio one more time, she might just lose her mind. Then the fundraising group Lesbians and Gays Support the Miners comes down from London, and she meets June, a snaggle-toothed blonde in a too-big leather jacket. Suddenly, Eluned isn't stuck any more - she's in freefall. June's an artist and an activist, living in a squat in Camden. With June, Eluned can imagine a completely different - and exciting - life for herself. But as her family struggles with the strike, and her relationship with her sister deteriorates, should she really leave it all behind? From the Valleys to the nightclubs of Cardiff, London and Manchester, NEON ROSES is a heartwarming, funny and a little bit filthy queer coming-of-age story with a cracking '80s soundtrack.”
Tale of Three Ships - Darcia G. Laucerica (2023) / “In a world under the thumb of an empire, pirates sail away searching for a breath of freedom. But even the ocean is tainted by the powerful nation that has spread lies about women being bad luck at sea. Glenlivet has never cared about the fear-mongering. Her ship welcomes those who are rejected and need a home. For all the sailor' s superstitions and "codes" of piracy the captain mocks every day, not leaving the docks when it's dark is a personal boundary she swears by ever since acquiring The Outsider about eight years ago. She just might have to break her own rules to protect her crew, escape the claws of a king who wants her dead, and murder the man who raised her.” I’ve heard so many good things about this. Lesbian main character, with mlm and trans side characters. Author in social media said it includes: Chosen pirate family, sirens, indigenous and latine inspired characters, anti-colonialism, and people fighting injustice and abuse.
How to Breathe Ash - Alex Nonymous (2023) / “Eleanor Perrault doesn't know if there's a right way to handle being suddenly orphaned at sixteen, but it's definitely not the way that she's been coping with it. It's been two months since her parents died and despite her autism normally causing her to be even more emotionally volatile than most of her peers, she still hasn't even managed to cry over them yet. On top of trying to learn how to grieve properly, Eleanor's juggling starting a new semester in a new town with an aunt who seems eternally disappointed in her and a cousin who's randomly decided to start hating her. And a crush on the incredibly pretty president of her new school's QSA. How to Breathe Ash is a contemporary YA Cinderella retelling following Eleanor through elaborate dances, anonymous chat rooms, and learning the right way to not be alright.” Autistic mc! While I haven’t read anything from this author (yet) they have lots of wlw/nblw/nblnb books with autistic main characters.
War and Solace: A Tale from Norvegr - Edale Lane (2023) / “A battle-hardened shieldmaiden. A pacifist healer. Can the two find love amid the chaos of war? From Edale Lane, the award-winning, best-selling author of Sigrid & Elyn, comes a new Tale from Norgevr! Tyrdis is a stalwart warrior raised to value honor, courage, and military prowess. When a traumatic injury renders the powerful protector helpless, she depends on the lovely, tender-hearted Adelle to restore her from the brink of death. Is it merely gratitude or true love that draws Tyrdis to the healer? Defying cultural norms, Adelle despises violence and those who propagate it, but when her shieldmaiden patient saves the life of her beloved little girl, she must reexamine her values. Could Tyrdis be more than a stiff, efficient killer with an amazing body? In a kingdom steeped in conflict with their neighbors and internal strife, shocking secrets are revealed, and both women strive to ensure justice prevails. Can they overcome their differences to safeguard their friends, end the war, and fall in love, or will fate prove to be a cruel sovereign?” Historical fiction set during 643. The author also has another two sapphic books set in the same time period.
Maddalena and the Dark - Julia Fine (2023) / “A novel set in 18th-century Venice at a prestigious music school, about two girls drawn together by a dangerous wager Venice, 1717. Fifteen-year-old Luisa has only wanted one thing: to be the best at violin. As a student at the Ospedale della Pietà, she hopes to join the highest ranks of its illustrious girls' orchestra and become a protégé of the great Antonio Vivaldi. Luisa is good at violin, but she is not the best. She has peers, but she does not have friends. Until Maddalena. After a scandal threatens her noble family's reputation, Maddalena is sent to the Pietà to preserve her marriage prospects. When she meets Luisa, Maddalena feels the stirrings of a friendship unlike anything she has known. But Maddalena has a secret: she has hatched a dangerous plot to rescue her future her own way. When she invites Luisa into her plans, promising to make her dreams come true, Luisa doesn't hesitate. But every wager has its price, and as the girls are drawn into the decadent world outside the Pietà's walls, they must decide what it is they truly want—and what they will do to pay for it. Lush and heady, swirling with music and magic, Maddalena and the Dark is a Venetian fairytale about the friendship between two girls and the boundless desire that will set them free, if it doesn't consume them first.”
Greasepaint - Hannah Levene (2024) / “Set against a backdrop of 1950s New York, this experimental novel follows an ensemble cast of all-singing, all-dancing butch dykes and Yiddish anarchists through eternal Friday nights, around the table, and at the bar. In one of many bars, Frankie Gold sings while Sammy Silver plays piano after a day job at the anarchist newspaper. The Butch Piano Players Union meets in the corner next to the jukebox. Laur smokes on the back steps, sweaty thigh to thigh with Vic. Frankie's childhood sweetheart, Lily, turns up at yet another bar to see a second Sammy play every Friday night. And before all that, there's always dinner at Marg's. Fabulated out of oral histories, anthologies, as well as the fiction of the butch-femme bar scene and Yiddish anarchist tradition, Greasepaint is a rollicking whirlwind of music and politics- the currents of community embodied and held inside the bar.”
Perfume & Pain - Anna Dorn (2024) / “A controversial Los Angeles author attempts to revive her career and finally find true love in this hilarious nod to 1950s lesbian pulp fiction. Having recently moved both herself and her formidable perfume bottle collection into a tiny bungalow in Los Angeles, mid-list author Astrid Dahl finds herself back in the Zoom writer's group she cofounded, Sapphic Scribes, after an incident that leaves her and her career lightly canceled. But she temporarily forgets all that by throwing herself into a few sexy distractions—like Ivy, a grad student who smells like metallic orchids and is researching 1950s lesbian pulp, or her new neighbor, Penelope, who smells like patchouli. When Astrid receives an unexpected call from her agent with the news that actress and influencer Kat Gold wants to adapt her previous novel for TV, Astrid finally has a chance to resurrect her waning career. But the pressure causes Astrid's worst vice to rear its head—the Patricia Highsmith, a blend of Adderall, alcohol, and cigarettes-and results in blackouts and a disturbing series of events. Unapologetically feminine yet ribald, steamy yet hilarious, Anna Dorn has crafted an exquisite homage to the lesbian pulp of yore, reclaiming it for our internet—and celebrity-obsessed world”
How It Works Out - Myriam Lacroix (2024) / “Surreal, darkly comic and achingly tender, Myriam Lacroix's debut sees a queer love story play out in many alternate realities. What if you had the chance to rewrite the course of your relationship, again and again, in the hopes that it would work out? After Myriam and Allison fall in love at a show in run-down punk house, their relationship starts to unfold through a series of hypotheticals. What if they became mothers by finding a baby in an alley? What if the only cure for Myriam's depression was Allison's flesh? What if they were B-list celebrities, famous for writing a book about building healthy lesbian relationships? How much darker-or sexier-would their dynamic be if one were a power-hungry CEO, and the other her lowly employee? From the fantasies of early romance to the slow encroaching of violence that unravels the fantasy, each reality builds to complete a brilliant, painfully funny portrait of love's many promises and perils. Equal parts sexy and profane, unsentimental, and gut-wrenching, How It Works Out is a formally inventive, arresting, uncanny exploration of queerness, love, and our drive for connection, in any and all possible worlds.”
All the Painted Stars - Emma Denny (@a-kind-of-merry-war) (2024) / “Oxfordshire 1362. When Lily Barden discovers her best friend Johanna's hand in marriage is being awarded as the main prize at a tournament, she is determined to stop it. Disguised as a knight, she infiltrates the contest, preparing to fight for Jo's hand. But her conduct ruffles feathers, and when a dangerous incident escalates out of Lily's control, Jo must help her escape. Finding safety with a local brewster, Lily and Jo soon settle into their new freedom, and amongst blackberry bushes and lakeside walks an unexpected relationship blossoms. But when Jo's past caches up with her and Lily's reckless behaviour threatens their newfound happiness, both women realise that choices must always come at a cost. The question they need to ask is if the cost is worth the price of love…” The cover of the edition coming out in November is SO pretty and lately I’ve been looking for medieval sapphic books like crazy.
Gentlest of Wild Things - Sarah Underwood (2024) / So this book is by the same author as Lies We Sing to the Sea, and I’m in no rush to read that book (a so-called odyssey retelling even tho the author has admitted to never actually reading the odyssey??) but this one looks compelling. “On the island of Zakynthos, nothing is more powerful than Desire-love itself, bottled and sold to the highest bidder by Leandros, a power-hungry descendent of the god Eros. Eirene and her beloved twin sister, Phoebe, have always managed to escape Desire's thrall. Until Leandros' wife dies mysteriously and he sets his sights on Phoebe. Determined to keep her sister safe, Eirene strikes a bargain with Leandros: if she can complete the four elaborate tasks he sets her, he will find another bride. But it soon becomes clear that the tasks are part of something bigger; something related to Desire and Lamia, the strange, neglected daughter Leandros keeps locked away. Lamia knows her father hides her for her own protection, though as she and Eirene grow closer, she finds herself longing for the outside world. But the price of freedom is high, and with something deadly-something hungry- stalking the night, that price must be paid in blood…” The author said that “Gentlest of Wild Things is a sapphic vampiric twist on the story of Eros and Psyche”
The End Crowns All - Bea Fitzgerald (2024) / “Princess. Priestess. The most beautiful girl in Troy. Casandra is used to being adored - and when her patron god, Apollo, offers her the power of prophecy, she sees an opportunity to rise even higher. But when she fails to uphold her end of the agreement, she discovers just how very far she has to fall. No one believes her visions. And they all seem to be of one girl - and the war she's going to bring to Troy's shores. Helen fled Sparta in pursuit of love, but it's soon clear Troy is a court like any other, with all its politics and backstabbing. And one princess seems particularly intent on driving her from the city before disaster can strike... But when war finally comes, it's more than the army at their walls they must contend with. Casandra and Helen might hold the key to reweaving fate itself - especially with the prophetic strands drawing them ever closer together. But how do you change your future when the gods themselves are dictating your demise?” Sapphic retelling of the iliad where Helen and Kassandra end up together
Idolfire - Grace Curtis (2025, March 11) / “An epic sapphic fantasy roadtrip inspired by the fall of Rome, from the Sunday Times bestselling author of Frontier and Floating Hotel On one side of the world, Aleya Ana-Ulai is desperate for a chance. Her family have written her off as a mistake, but she's determined to prove every last one of them wrong. On the other, Kirby of Wall's End is searching for redemption. An ancient curse tore her life apart, but to fix it, she'll have to leave everything behind. Fate sets them both on the path to Nivela, a city once poised to conquer the world with the power of a thousand stolen gods. Now the gates are closed and the old magic slumbers. Dead - or waiting for a spark to light it anew... A character-driven science-fantasy road trip book with sword fights and a slowburn romance, Idolfire delves into the vastness of history and the terrifying power of organized faith.”
If asked, I’ll also do one with gay books
(No 1950s lesbians because I don’t like pulp fiction :( )
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theresatzu · 22 days ago
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Plaster & Lukewarm - Part 1
Featuring: Itoshi Sae x reader
Tropes: First impressions, crack
In which first impressions are the fundamentalists to a good kick-starter of any coach's assistant's career.
Such a shame you managed to piss off the best midfielder in the world.
"Oh no, I'm late." You hissed, cursing when you heared the boisterous gonging of the clock, signalling it was already 3 pm.
"Ugh, where the hell is my taxi?!" You scanned the arena, yet, no tell-tale yellow taxi car arrived.
Sweatdrops started to appear on your forehead as you impatiently tapped your foot.
Today was an important day; it was the debut of your professional career as a football coach. Well, technically assistant coach, but details details.
Anyway, you digressed. You had your first appointment with the Japan Football Union, in which there was to be discussed if you fit the bill to become an assistant coach in training, and eventually, and hopefully, take over as a coach one day.
Football was... exhilarating. You'd played once upon a time, but a nasty injury had prevented you from reaching greater heights.
Although faced with the obstruction that was planted into your career as a football player, the sport still appealed to you, even though playing within the borders of the field was a fever dream.
And so, you had made up your mind to pursue a career in managing, more specifically, in coaching.
Technique, tactics, insight, is what the job description demanded and you were set on proving that you had the right assets to adequately proffer the national football team such.
And well, another motive.
Finally dragging the world cup into the country where it belonged.
There was only one small, tiny detail.
You had to actually arrive. And on time.
Shudders already ran along your back at the thought of those grumpy, money-grabbing people showing you the door for your tardiness.
So, it would be really nice, if that goddamned cab would just show up.
Impatiently, you set off, sticking your head out on the pavement, hoping to catch a glimpse of yellow.
Yet, in your antsiness, you'd had failed to see a figure before you, so ultimately, you smacked against their back, causing them to fall forwards.
Eyes widening, you tried to keep your balance, but your gravity point was already off-center. And so, you stumbled right into them, toppling on their back.
The stranger let out a groan, and you managed to catch something along the lines of "Bothersome." Well, that's fair.
You made to apologise, but as you raised your head, you spotted a blur of yellow.
Your heart skipped a beat. The taxi!
Hastily, you stood up, dismissing the grime clinging to your coat and your bruised hands.
But the stranger...
They were still on the ground, due to your agitation, so an apology was probably in order, but...
The taxi hollered. Oh no, what if he drove away? Then you could practically kiss your dream goodbye.
Crouching low, you dusted the person off, hands making quick work of rubbing the grime off the person's jacket.
You winced when the white coat darkened, a result of your scrubbing. Okay, from worse to worst.
"Look, I'm really sorry, for uh... bumping into you, but I really can't help you up. Here uh...have this plaster." You threw a Michael Kaiser plaster at the person.
You made a face. Oh well, at least he wasn't a terrible sight to look at.
Your phone ringed, insistently, and you were once again reminded of your time running out.
It was now or never.
"So sorry!" You bowed once, before practically sprinting towards the taxi.
Right on time, too. The taxi driver had become impatient, face marred with dissatisfaction.
Panting, you swept away the stray locks fallen into your face as you shut the door behind you with a loud bang.
"To... to Japan Football Union please!" You panted.
The driver nodded curtly, once, before he drove away.
Finally, your heartbeat settled. That had been an intense few minutes.
Firstly, being too late, and then bumping into that stranger--
Oh no. You grimaced thinking back to that immensely awkward interaction.
You glimpsed through the window, guilt making your chest constrict.
The car was driving fast, yet you did manage to catch a glimpse of a person with rouge hair, tousled by the fall, still sitting on the ground where they'd fallen.
The car was going too fast for you to actually be able to distinguish the person, but you did see the Michael Kaiser plaster clutched into their hand.
Well, at least you had done something.
Then, as if sensing your stare, a pair of piercing cerulean eyes looked your way.
Startled, your eyes widened, but the contact broke when the person vanished from sight, fading into the blur of the vivid background.
Yet a vibrant cerulean lingered persistently in your eyes.
Itoshi Sae was sitting on the ground, confused and totally upheaved by the events occurring mere moments prior.
Blood dripped from his forehead, his hands were scratched, and his white coat resembled now charcoal.
His eyes went to the Michael Kaiser plaster in his hand.
Then, back to the blood dripping on his hand .
He really had no choice, did he?
After you as good as fled the car, after paying, of course, you ran up your way to the entrance of the humongous building.
You restlessly rested your weight on the one foot and the other as you waited for the lift to finally reach the ground floor.
The doors pinged open, and you rushed in, nearly punching through the unfortunate 20 button.
As the lift sped upwards, you mentally rehearsed your prepared speech, carding a nervous hand through your hair.
Then, the doors opened. You had arrived.
Swallowing arduously, you took a deep breath, trying to settle your nerves.
Well, it was now or nothing.
"Our next candidate for the training as assistant coach is L/n Y/n, please step forward."
Knees weak and hands clammy, you obliged, smiling slightly to calm your own nerves.
Before you, several men were seated around an elongated table, donning inflectionless faces.
Well, great prospect.
At least you had arrived on time.
"Ah, yes. I'm L/n Y/n, pleasure to meet you." You introduced yourself, smiling through the pain.
"So, L/n, why do you reckon you'd be suitable for this training?" A balding man inquired.
This was an easy answer.
You breathed more easily, pulse decreasing.
"Well, because I believe Japan has what it takes. Yes, we haven't finished somewhere even remotely close to first place in the past few years." You acknowledged. Some men shifted uneasily in their chair.
"But I believe that what we don't lack is talent, but guidance." You took a step forward, eyes set determinedly.
"All these years, we've continuously pushed the same boring tactics, the same predictable plays. Anyone can see through them. What we need, is an evolution. We need something that'll wow the world and simultaneously,"
You exhaled deeply.
"Will enthuse the youth. If we manage to accomplish both feats by introducing a whole new assortment of gameplans, tactics, and technique, then not only will Japan be revered across seas and countries alike, it'll also be fortuitous for encouraging supporters and donors to fund the JFU."
A short silence fell. Heat crawled up your neck. Had you come off too strong?
Mumbling rose, some dissatisfied murmurs resounded. Well, you had insulted their play style just yet.
But you weren't here to suck up to them. You were here to follow your dreams and to uphold your values, no matter what.
A man spoke up, "Okay then. If what you're saying proves to be true, then what makes you think you're qualified for the job?"
Not a rejection. Not yet.
"I was a former player." You explained. "I got injured severly two years ago, but I played nationals in college. I might not be able to play anymore, but that doesn't mean that I have lost the passion for this sport. The tactics and techniques are still with me, and I don't doubt that I can succesfully convey them to the players."
One of the men squinted. "You were part of the Hokkaido team, weren't you?"
You nodded. "Yes. I was team captain."
"I've heard great things about you. They say you have a good head on your shoulders."
Hope glimmered in your chest.
"Well, why don't you prove it to us?"
Your eyes grew large.
They didn't mean... surely...
"Welcome to the JFU, L/n Y/n."
"So, this'll be the place where you will be staying at." Anri, the lady who was assigned to give you a quick tour, spoke.
You peeked inside the room. It was simple and minimalistic.
There was a simple desk of lacquered mahogany wood pushed against the beige wall. A two persons bed was placed perpendicular of it.
Furthermore, there was one wardrobe and a door presumably leading to the bathroom.
"Oh, before I'll let you off the hook," Anri placed a hand on your arm, "I'll let you get acquianted with the players you'll be working with the coming months."
Your eyebrows raised in anticipation. This would be your first task as an assistant coach in training. This couldn't go wrong.
First impressions were important. Crucial even to building a professional relationship.
So, the only thing you had to do, was to come off strong.
"Alright then, let's go."
Anri went on ahead, doing the formal introductions as you waited behind the door.
You had already done extensive research on the U-20 team of Japan. There was Oliver Aiku, team captain, central back, and there was also Sendou, a forward.
So really, there should be no surprises.
Anri then stepped back, opening the door. She gesticulated at you, willing you to enter the room.
Your heart beat wildly in your chest. This was the kick-start of your career. The debut of your dream. This had to go right.
"Okay, come off strong, come off strong." You breathed, gathering your wits.
Then, you stepped in the room, tilting your head.
Your eyes fell on a Michael Kaiser sticker.
"Plaster?!"
A beat. Then,
"Bothersome?"
A stunned silence fell.
Well, at least you had come off strong.
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boolger · 5 months ago
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I just want a cowgirl for Christmas
Kate Laswell x f!reader💖 MDNI 💖one shot
Idk how to explain why they’re all in America and all cowboys coded but I can explain that I’ve had the song “cowgirl for Christmas” by Drake Milligan stuck in my head since last Christmas/jul. So like, happy holidays if you celebrate any kind of thing this month or upcoming months. 💖Happy holidays the entire year actually ily all my sinners, y’all have been very loving to me this year for some reason and it has made life a lil funnier in many ways. Anyways, hopefully I’ll be able to post something else than this before jul but who the fuck knows. Kate deserves a lil lady for Christmas, she gotta meet that wife somehow ya know. 💖 I’ve done my best to keep the description vague so we can all pretend to be Kate’s Christmas love. However, reader is described as she/her. Uh, this was supposed to be much longer, but time and mental health - and I have to deal with my family lmao
💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖
The bar is almost empty. It doesn’t surprise Kate that much; it’s the 19th of December after all and people need to buy the last couple of Christmas presents if they celebrate that shit. The snow falls outside, giving her boots a nice crunch whenever she moves around in it. Collected by the cowboy hat on top of her head whenever she walks around. But it’s warm in the bar and the alcohol is good as she nurses her second glass, well aware she is gonna have to walk home through that shitty shoe, most likely freezing her ass off on the way.
She is off work, has no responsibilities until next year forces her back in the uniform at the base. In fact, she has no plans at all - on purpose.
“Ya’ look miserable, Laswell,” Alex said, stopping in front of her with a cup of coffee, with a bit of milk in… Kate suspected there were her usual two sugar cubes in.
And that was the truth, wasn’t it? She was miserable and she had absolutely no plans of changing it. A grinch, a sad, lonely woman who purposely drowned her feelings in the local bar, forced to listen to the Christmas songs and people’s chatter in the background.
“I didn’t order this,” she replied, looking up at the man, squinting at his amused smile, “‘nd I’m not miserable.”
“Sure you’re not,” Alex replied, “and it’s on the house - Farah says I have to be nice to you these days.”
Kate huffed, embarrassed over how even Alex’s wife knew of her pitiful behaviour.
“Thank you,” she replied instead of being mean.
“You’re welcome - and you know you're always welcome at ours at Christmas, sweetie,” it was a soft reminder, an offer that you knew he might hope that you would agree to.
“Nah, thanks though,” she managed to give him a smile, instead taking a sip of the coffee, running a hand over the brim of the cowboy hat next to her on the counter, “I’ll stay with the troublemakers at home.”
Said troublemakers were the two horses at her little farm. In truth, it wasn’t those that were a problem - it was merely an excuse to wallow in self pity at home, due to the loneliness that grew in her bones around every Christmas she spent with her friends.
They all had partners by now. Johnny and Simon had their shared wife who was pregnant once more, little Tommy almost three by now. Kyle had been with his girlfriend for three years by now and she suspected one of them would propose soon - probably her, as Kyle seemed to be too shy about it, busy looking for a house to give her. John and Nikolai were close to getting their adoption papers finished, she knew that, so they could give them to their two boys at Christmas, the two boys that they had fostered for the last four years.
It was this - all the love surrounding her, all the joy, all the time they had been together in which Kate had been like now; alone.
She took another sip of the coffee before nursing her whiskey instead - another song starting up and Kate’s eyes flickered close for a moment.
Don't want a set of shiny new spurs
A seat for my saddle, a rope for the herd
Kate huffed at the lyrics, emptying her whiskey before asking Alex for one more, ignoring the sound of the door to the bar opening and closing again.
Santa, I don't need a sleigh full of gifts
There's only one thing on my Christmas list
He filled up her glass, while looking over your shoulder with a grin as Kate listened to the boots moving across the door.
“Hi again, sweetheart,” Alex greeted and Kate finally pulled herself together, looking over her shoulder.
I want a cowgirl for Christmas this year
A cowboy sure gets lonely way out here
Kate had never seen a more beautiful woman in her entire life, wearing cowboy boots, a big coat and jeans as she pulled off her knitted hat, a thin layer of white snow on her clothes.
Wrap her up in jeans and boots
Send her down to me from you
I just want a cowgirl for Christmas
Kate was sure the most perfect being ever existed had just blessed her own sinful soul with your mere presence - Kate wasn’t even sure she was worthy of breathing in the same air as the newcomer.
“Hiya Alex,” oh, lord, even your voice made Kate want to smile, though she didn’t want to come off creepy, so she looked forward again, taking a sip of the whiskey, “can I get a beer?”
I need a little lady, little lady, little lady, little lady, little lady, hoo
I want a little lady, little lady, little lady, little lady, little lady, hoo
“Sure thing,” Alex replied, charming smile on his face as always, “gonna join Laswell ‘ere and mope over Christmas?”
Kate spluttered, sending Alex a nasty stare as he had just betrayed her; pushed her in front of the bus filled with embarrassment and Kate knew her cheeks were growing red. Goddamn Keller.
Ropes and rides right by my side
With starry eyes that sparkle, arms to keep me warm at night
“I am not moping, Alex,” Kate grumbled but she felt herself light up a little, straightening her back as the sound of the cowboy boots came to stand next to her.
“Well, I ain’t really moping too much either,” you said and Kate dared to look over at you as you rested against the counter right next to her, “but I wouldn’t mind joining you?”
That's all I need this Christmas Eve
I just want a cowgirl for Christmas, aha
“Sure,” Kate managed before clearing her throat, “you’re more than welcome to. I - uh, I’m Kate Laswell.”
God she was pathetic at this - she hadn’t flirted with somebody forever and you looked like you had just stepped out of a lesbian cowgirl’s wet dream… perhaps her own.
She offered you her hand and you took it, your fingers a little cold from the outside.
“Nice to meet ya’, Kate,” you replied, your eyes seeming like they sparkled as you told her your name. Kate couldn’t help but imagine your hair against her bedsheets, her fingers running along that pretty body of yours.
“Likewise,” Kate smiled, straightening her back a little as Alex gave you the beer, before he sent Kate a wink. Asshole.
“You new in town?” She added, focusing back on you.
“Yeah,” you took a sip of the beer, a pretty line of white foam laying along your upper lip until you licked it off with your pink tongue, “moved in nearby two weeks ago. Been busy, though.”
“Ah,” Kate nodded along, “explains why I haven’t seen you, then.”
You looked younger than herself and for a moment, she felt like an old pervert. She was 39 and you looked like you were 25 maybe. It both sent sparks of lust through her - together with the feeling of being dirty. Simping, a word Soap had said, for a younger woman.
“Likewise,” you answered, adding a soft “I would have remembered.”
Were you… flirting with her? Kate felt herself blush as if she was a teenager and not a grown up woman. As if she wasn’t much older than you - fuck, it made her feel dirty, in a way she couldn’t describe. Yet it made butterflies flutter inside her stomach, flying around the flowers that had suddenly bloomed.
“ are what doing this Christmas you?” The words almost tumbled out of her mouth, unable to be said in the right order, her lungs filled with a feeling she hadn’t felt for a while, “I uhm- I mean, what are you doing this Christmas?”
You didn’t laugh, but you smiled so sweetly, almost lovingly and Kate was sure she wouldn’t be able to stand with the rush of emotions that went through her at it.
“Not much,” you admitted, your finger playing with the rim of the beer glass, though you didn’t take your gaze of her, “don’t know anybody here - what about you?”
“Not much either,” Kate breathed, “want to uhm - maybe hang out?”
She had never felt as ridiculous as now; in fact she wanted to slam her head into the counter - maybe run away. Even if the town buried her, it wouldn’t be enough. The pure embarrassment of asking a stranger, a hot, beautiful stranger, like that, to spend Christmas with her. Had she gone mad? Perhaps it was the alcohol.
“I’m so sorry,” she hurried to say, “I - you don’t know me, that was inappropriate of me an—“
“I would like that.”
Which such simple words, you made her heart beat a little bit more normal, you made her able to breath again, her throat able to untangle.
“I - yeah?”
“Yeah,” you confirmed with a warm smile and for the first time in years, Kate felt as if Christmas might not be that bad this year.
I just want a cowgirl for Christmas.
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pandapetals · 6 months ago
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Poker
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You and the X-Men play poker.
a/n: Inspired by @sixwingedholy art. This is my first time sort of writing for remy so hopefully it’s not out of character.
professor logan howlett x professor fem!reader - married couple, cute, fluff, teasing, no y/n used, no reader description, your an english professor, logan is a history professor - imagine days of future past logan with the white streaks in his hair
a/n: Inspired by @sixwingedholy art. This is my first time sort of writing for remy so hopefully it’s not out of character.
read on ao3 or find more parts for the series: here
divider credit: @enchanthings
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"Sugar, you sure you wanna play with us?" Rogue asked with a playful smirk, her eyes sparkling with mischief as you settled into the empty chair next to Logan at the poker table.
You arched an eyebrow, matching her smirk. "I know how to play poker if that’s what you’re getting at," you shot back, already reaching for the deck to shuffle it.
Hank chuckled from across the table, leaning back in his chair with an amused expression. "I don’t think that’s what she meant," he said, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Let’s just say things can get a little… unpredictable around here."
"Unpredictable?" Remy scoffed, shaking his head as he started dealing the cards. "You mean downright chaotic, mon ami. Especially when some people don’t know when to fold." He shot a pointed glance at Logan.
Logan grunted, leaning back in his chair with a half-smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "You talkin’ about yourself, Cajun?" he drawled, picking up his cards with a lazy flick of his wrist. "Because last time I checked, you were the one who lost his shirt—literally."
"Hey, that was strategy," Remy shot back, narrowing his eyes as he threw a chip into the pot. "Keepin' you all distracted, non?"
Rogue rolled her eyes, reaching over to give Remy a light shove. "Sure, if 'strategy' means gettin’ beat by a bunch of amateurs," she teased, glancing over at you with a wink. "Though I gotta say, sugar, you’ve got Logan as your partner in crime here. Don’t let him lead you astray."
Logan’s eyes flicked to you, a glint of challenge there as he took a slow sip of his beer. "Oh, don’t worry about her," he said, setting his drink down and shooting you a sideways glance. "She can handle herself just fine. Question is, can you all handle us? "
Hank snorted, arranging his chips in neat little stacks. "Bold words, Logan. But I do recall you losing quite spectacularly the last time we played. If I’m not mistaken, you blamed it on the 'damn cards.'"
Logan shot him a glare, though there was a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. "They were bad cards. And that was a fluke."
"Uh-huh, sure," you said, trying to suppress a laugh as you threw in your own chip to call the bet. "I’ll believe that when I see you win a hand without growling at the cards."
Remy leaned over the table, eyes twinkling as he dealt the flop. "Let’s make it interesting, then," he said, grinning like a cat with a canary. "How ‘bout a side bet? Loser has to do something… embarrassing. Like serenading the winner."
Rogue clapped her hands together in delight. "Oh, I like that idea. I’d pay good money to hear Hank belt out a tune."
Hank’s cheeks flushed slightly, and he cleared his throat. "Well, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I happen to have an excellent poker face."
Logan snorted. "Yeah, Hank, your poker face is about as good as Remy’s ability to stay quiet."
"Hey, now," Remy protested, holding his hands up in mock defense. "My mouth keeps the game lively, mon ami. Otherwise, it’s just a bunch of serious faces sittin’ around waitin’ to lose."
You glanced at your cards, then at Logan, who gave you a barely perceptible nod. "Well, I’m all in," you said, pushing your chips to the center. "I guess we’ll see who’s serenading who."
"Big words for a rookie," Rogue teased, but there was a flicker of surprise in her eyes as she glanced between you and Logan. "You two got a plan I don’t know about?"
"Wouldn’t you like to know," you replied, feeling the adrenaline buzz through you as the chaos of the game unfolded. The cards were turned, chips were thrown, and the banter flowed as easily as the drinks.
Remy grinned, throwing in a stack of chips. "Let’s see what you’ve got, chérie. I’m feelin’ lucky."
As the final card was revealed, you and Logan exchanged a knowing look. He leaned in slightly, his voice low. "Ready to show 'em how it’s done, darlin'?"
You smirked, flipping your cards over to reveal a winning hand. "Looks like someone’s gonna be doing a little singin’," you said, your gaze landing on Remy, whose jaw had dropped in mock horror.
Rogue burst into laughter, clapping her hands together. "Oh, this is gonna be good. What song are you takin’ requests for, Remy?"
Hank joined in, a grin spreading across his face. "I’ve got a few suggestions if you’d like to start with something classic."
Remy held up his hands in surrender, shaking his head with a rueful smile. "Alright, alright. I’ll sing, but I won’t promise it'll be pretty." He looked at you and Logan, shaking his head in disbelief. "You two been plannin’ this all along, huh?"
Logan grinned, a glint of mischief in his eye. "Let’s just say we make a good team."
As the table dissolved into laughter and arguments over which song Remy would butcher first, you felt Logan’s knee bump against yours under the table—a subtle, wordless acknowledgment of your shared victory. He shot you a look, one that was equal parts pride and amusement, and you couldn’t help but grin back, feeling like the luckiest player in the room.
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dilutedconfusion · 1 year ago
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The Nameless
SoftYandere!Eustass Kid x F!Reader (Part 1) MDNI 18+
CREDITS TO @likeeliterallywtf for requesting this!!! She gave me an amazing request with a detailed description of what she wanted so hopefully I’m doing it justice!!
Summary: Kid sees you for the first time and is stunned. Melting into a cacophony of insistent need to have you. He’s had a rough past with woman before but this felt different. Or at least that was the excuse he was going to use to have you.
Warnings: YANDERE TROPE!!! There is no explicit warnings in this first part but THERE WILL BE. So I would advise not reading this if topics such as mental & physical abuse, blood/gore, and just an overall unhealthy relationship bother you! Of course you can still read this first part if you want just be wary of any of the other chapters.
Word Count: 4.4k
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The clawing feeling that Kid felt inside when he first saw you wasn’t something he had expected.
The insistent pumping of his warm blood could be felt like a flame across every inch of his skin. Tying his stomach in knots and melting his marrow as he just stood there like a deer in headlights to watch you from afar. Expecting a glance. Expecting a conversation. Expecting your blood to boil with passion forcing you to run into his arms.
I’m a handsome guy. I’m the future pirate king. I could get any woman I want. But if you impress me enough...then maybe I just want you. This thought dripped like honey on his mind. Enveloping every crevice and stem with just this all-encompassing thought of you.
He could nearly taste you on his tongue. He could nearly feel your hair dance between his fingers. He could nearly see you smiling at him shyly as you spoke to him. A bright red dusted across your cheeks like the slow sweet blossoming of a flower. A flower he wanted to encase in glass and delicately touch whenever the urge hit him.
But just like the glass a wall of space separated the two of you. A gruesome space separating you from the man you’d spend the rest of your life with.
He just couldn’t wait to tell you the good news of his arrival.
“Earth to Kid! What the fuck man? Are you even listening to me right now?”
As if cold water had splashed over his face Kid's body jumped a little as he stood. The muscles in his neck tightened spastically. His eyes were weary and his hands nearly vibrated as he slowly came out of his stupor.
“Yeah..yeah uh what..what were you saying?” It was almost physically painful for Kid to take his eyes off you. To give even Heat an ounce of his attention. The slight sheen of sweat gracing his brow got swept back into his hair as he adjusted his goggles a bit.
“Since you’ve been blanking out everything for the last 10 minutes I’ll tell you what’s happening. We’re going shopping right now. Buying some ingredients before we head home. Look I get it, you hate shopping. But at least help me instead of just standing there.” Heat's voice was aggravated and low. A whisper of words meant to reach Kid's ears whilst trying not to reach others.
Kid didn’t particularly understand why Heat seemed so reserved. It was just a crowd. Just a herd of unmentionables moving through the open market. The sun oppressively beat down on the civilians. Their awkward and wayward gawking at the aforementioned pirates wasn’t something new to Kid. But if he wanted anyone to pay attention to him, to look at him at all, he was hoping it’d be you. Yet his hopes were not being met just yet.
You seemed to be staring out just like him on the other side of the street. Thanks to Kids' tall height he could see you past the bobbing heads walking by. No glaring sunlight or bright colors or the vendor's canopy fluttering above him would steal away his attention. Everything seemed to center on you as if it was where his eyes naturally glided.
Side pressed against the tagged and rough alleyway wall you stood. A thin hood covering the softness of your face in a deep shadow. The rest of your clothes seemed worn. You’re canvas pants shredded in a few places along with a rough patch of what looked like dirt on the calf. They led down right to a pair of shit-kicker boots slightly scuffed in some places. The deep red shawl laced with the hood itself covering up the loose black t-shirt hugging your torso. Though compared to the deep rift of darkness in that alleyway nearly swallowing you up, he could still see you crystal clear.
Maybe she’s just trying to stay in the shade. Beat the heat.
There was a keen look in your eye that fluttered over the passersby’s in the street and vendors at their stands. It was sharp and antagonizing. A slight snarl quirked at your lower lip.
You were looking for something or moreover, you were looking for an opportunity.
A thief are we now?
“KID!” A loud thud of pain erupted onto Kid's shin. Making his jaw get even tighter if that was even humanly possible.
“What the hell man? Don’t fucking kick me!” Kid's cheeks became noticeably flushed. Trying to mask his anger but also trying to appease the shop vendor to think that the two of them were at least partially normal.
Heats hands were still occupied with filling a small crate with supplies. Cans, jars, and a load of nonperishables slowly getting jenga-d in there. His sad-looking eyes not even sparing a glance towards Kid. “Quit being creepy and help me pack this shit up or I’m making you carry everything.”
Those words caught in Kids' ears like a fish on a hook. His lips flattened out into something far more ashamed. “I’m not being creepy. You don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.”
Heat chewed on the inside of his mouth. Holding himself back from saying something too stupid but glowering at him regardless. “Well I have a pretty good idea what you’re doing and it sure as hell doesn’t involve helping me. But since you wanna just gawk, you’re carrying the crate.”
“No the fuck I’m not”
“Yes the fuck you are.” Heat stare didn’t falter in the slightest. Sure this big red-headed brute was his captain but he was also his friend. A friend that just so happened to be a bit strange at times. Heat knew not to try and change him but he also knew to not let Kids habits get in the way of their work.
“Fine” Kid grumbled while sliding the full crate over towards him. Heat then promptly picked up some bags as they were sitting loosely on the floor. Kid hoisted the crate up easily and held it snugly under his right arm. Following Heat in a slow meandering pace out into the street.
Where is she? His eyes glazed over the spot where you once were. That full figure of yours is now gone from his sight. Heat of course was walking way too damn fast. Already a good bit ahead of him and siphoning through the crowd.
Fucking hell where is she? He made no move to walk faster and just scanned the crowd in utter desperation. Hoping to catch a glimpse of your red hood bounding through the streets.
Heat of course gave a wayward glance back towards Kid. His abnormally tall height made it easy to spot him along with the red hair of course. He clicked his tongue in annoyance, coming to a stop in the middle of the street until Kid met up with him.
“Should I just leave you here? I want to get home man it's hot as hell out here.” Heat's voice rasped out in a solemn whisper. Watching the way Kids eyes seemingly couldn’t maintain eye contact with him. Like the rest of the crowd held the promise of wealth and fame if he just looked hard enough.
Or it held another girl like always.
“I’m...I’m coming. I don’t want to have to hold a stupid crate when I…” Kid trailed off. Rubbing his prosthetic hand through his hair as he wistfully imagined the first conversation he might have with you.
She is going to swoon for me. Look up at me with those pretty eyes just begging to be mine. I have to be perfect. I need to show her what I am. What I can provide.
Heat had waited for Kid to finish his sentence but he never did. The redhead just chewed on his lips and looked off into the distance with a thousand-yard stare.
“God if I knew any better I would think little hearts should be floating around you right now. You gotta control yourself, man. Let’s just get home and then you can come back...and do whatever.” Heat stepped next to Kid's side. Trying to persuade him to keep walking as if he were a child.
“There’s no fucking hearts floating around me. It ain’t like that.” Kid snapped his head towards Heat with a snarl. Taking long board steps forward in a stomping motion to get a move on.
“Yeah? Well if that’s true then water must not be wet huh?.” Heat again gnawed on his cheek like always. His sarcasm was raw but his willingness to say more was seemingly gone.
“Shut up! I just don’t want to leave and then I don’t see her again. What if she’s leaving tonight? What if she doesn't live here?” That very thought made Kid's heart skip. Still trying to take notice of every passerby on the street hoping and praying one of them was you.
“So it is about a girl huh? Knew it. It’s fine if she leaves because what does it matter? You could pull someone else or go to a brothel like the rest of us.” Heat cocked his head up at Kid. A wry smile pulled at his lips, or at least the sort of half smile that his sad face could manage.
“I know that asshole. But I’m allowed to want what I want. Don’t judge me for being particular about the chicks I pick up.” Kid scoffed a bit and looked away from Heat. That smile did little to pick up his mood. He began walking even a bit faster. Urgency on his mind as the heels of his boots clicked against the cobblestone road.
“When have I ever cared about what you do with women, Kid? I literally don’t give a shit unless you start acting weird and not doing what you’re supposed to.” There was a slightly serious tone under the natural wave of relaxation that Heat often held. Kid has been infatuated with a few girls in the past few years. Picking them up just to string them along for a month max before leaving them on some island. It was...a questionable choice in his and some of the other crew mate's minds. Though if he was being honest it particularly annoyed him.
He gets hung up. He gets what he wants. He realizes it is not what he wants. He gets mad at the rest of the world for it. What a fun cycle about to start again. Heat nearly rolled his eyes at his thoughts. Gripping the bag handles a bit tighter as he offhandedly glances up at Kid once more.
“All I did was not help you buy and pack shit? Are you seriously complaining about that?” Kid couldn’t particularly see the logic in why Heat was complaining. To him this was simple. To him, he didn’t remember about those handfuls of girls he’d been maybe halfway committed to. It felt real and full and passionate at the start. But then they break his little heart by being completely different than what he expected.
This girl doesn’t seem like that though. She’ll be different. She’ll be perfect. She needs me. I can feel it.
“I’m complaining because I know how you are. You take things too far sometimes.” Heat mumbled his words a bit. Trying to cautiously weasel around the big elephant in the room that was Kid's love language.
Kid, though emotionally unintelligent as he is, still caught on to how Heat was avoiding specifics. He wanted to know what his crew mate thought of him. He wanted to wear it on his chest and feel the piercing sting it might cause.“Too far as in what?” Rolled off his tongue with an emphasis on the what. Eyeballing Heat as they slowly made their way out of the town. A rural glance between here and the sea upon them.
Heat paused for a moment, biting his lip in thought as he tried to piece together the best way to put it. “You..seriously don’t remember that blonde chick? The one that you...” He couldn’t finish his sentence. Not because what happened particularly bothered him. But Kid…just seemed different in the worst possible way the last time he had one of these so-called partners.
“Oh, you mean that. Whatever. She was pushing me to do it. It was practically her fault. I don’t like getting taken for granted and I don’t like my women looking at anyone else. She was just a fling and I’m fucking regretting it.” Kid once again scoffed. Brushing that whole incident aside like it was just dirt on his shoulder.
It wasn’t just nothing though. I’ve never seen him like that before. Heat's worry continued onto the present day. A day he was hoping wouldn’t be another chance for Kid to sink his teeth into someone.“It didn’t seem like a fling at the time...”
“You don’t know how it was! I’m saying she was worthless from the start and I’m fucking right about that. I didn’t take it too far, I took it exactly where it needed to go.” Defensive as always Kid couldn't see his actions as wrong. Heat knew they weren’t good people and he didn’t expect Kid to be a saint.
But what if he gets worse?
“So...are you planning on being the same with this girl?” The question was simple and didn’t point blame at Kid. He hoped Kid would come up with a resounding no. Saying he would take it slow, maybe test the waters a bit more before diving head first. If not for the girl then at least for his own sanity.
“She was pretty. She seemed interesting and there’s not a single doubt in my mind telling me she wouldn’t love me. I’m allowed to go for things that seem good, so quit being jealous.” The strong air of confidence that Kid held was average. He was confident in each and every single syllable that slipped off his tongue. Heat could tell there was no changing that but sometimes he wished his captain wouldn’t be so...persistent.
“I’m not jealous. Like I said, I literally don’t care what you do, I just don’t want it bothering the rest of the crew.” Heat averted the blame for Kids attitude towards him. Shaking his head dismissively as he walked a bit faster to finally approach their ship lined at the docks.
Heat was never much of a man who needed sexual pleasure to get by but Kid definitely was. So it didn’t make sense why Kid thought he was jealous. But Heat supposed Kid would even turn a scorned eye at Killer if he touched his ‘toys’.
“Well, you sound jealous. So don’t be catching looks when I come home with my woman later.” Kid eyed the few crew mates hanging out on deck. The sun slowly dipping into the watery depths of the evening gave him hope that he would have you soon.
Maybe even before midnight if I’m lucky.
Heat cast an accusatory yet playful smile towards Kid.“What are you going to do? Kidnap her? You’re sounding like a creep Kid.” There was a sense of worry in his voice though he tried to laugh through it regardless. Because it simply had to be a joke or else he wouldn’t be laughing.
I mean he would never do anything like that…would he?
Kid's body instantly paused. Leaving Heat to do a double-take and suddenly stop a bit ahead of him. He turned around towards the redhead with a weary glance. Noticing the piercing gaze that shot through him like a pistol.
Resolutions and ravenous tendencies dripped out of the hellhole that was Kids painted mouth.“I am a creep. I’ll be anything and fucking everything I need to be to get what I deserve. And I deserve her.”
__________
Fuck.
With sprinted exhaustion, each breath became a fiery roar of necessity. Legs close to throbbing from the amount of hits they had taken. A marred bruise turned to blood against your thigh. Each pounding step kept you unbalanced and staggered as you ran as fast as you could.
“Get that fucking thief!”
Shit. There was no time to realize what was happening until someone had slammed a stool down on your thigh. It had sent you toppled over ready to take a few sparse kicks in the spine body before you scurried upwards. Nearly falling face first as you barely managed to climb out of a window and out into the alley.
Now here you were running with a decent amount of money and scraps of food hitting your back. Thudding against your already sore spine you desperately clung to the makeshift tarp you were using as a bag. Your eyes skidded along the road in front of you as you made a sudden and sharp turn into another alleyway. It was slightly more crowded then the last and filled with exactly what you needed.
Perfect. It was a last resort in your mind but you were glad you had thought of it before stealing from that noble's house. You had a way to get into their town connected to the far more poor and dangerous area you were from near the shore.
A water flow system that brought water from the lake down through their city and back into the ocean. Of course, it was guarded on every inch of that huge wall that separated the rich from the degenerates. But you knew how to get in and had for a while now.
The sounds of racing footsteps behind you made your nerves go into overdrive. Hands shaking in a mix of fear and excitement from the rush. You quickly darted into the crowded alleyway. Running behind some large dumpsters you had pushed as a barricade into the middle of the road. Just a small enough slit to let you squeeze through their metal encasings just filled to the brim with rotting food and something a little extra.
Maybe if these dumbasses behind me had a lick of sense they would smell the gas in the air.
There was about a quart of alcohol sprinkled over the perfect kindling that was trash. Along with a very small and homemade piece of dynamite and a half-assed Molotov cocktail just to make it a bit more...well what would you call it?
Eyebrow scorching. Finally, these bastards will look about as ugly as their insides do.
You were quick despite your shaking hands. Picking up the Molotov cocktail you had hidden behind some trash bags. Eyes fluttering down the alley to spot the hoard of angry guards you had roused closing in on you. With quick succession, you threw your bag of goodies a good 20 feet away. Flicking out a lighter tucked into your pocket and walking backward from the men.
A devilish smile couldn’t help but quirk itself at your lips. The darkness that surrounded you now getting filled with the faint spark of light turned that turned into a flame. Butane hitting your senses just so you can breathe it in a bit deeper.
This is going to be satisfying.
You pressed that small flame against the dry rag sticking out of the bottle. Taking no time to throw it as hard as you can directly into the dumpsters.
“BURN IN HELL FUCKERS!” You yelled, a crazed laugh shaking in your chest as you heard the ceremonious crash of glass which of course quickly escalated into huge balls of flames.
The boom that resounded through your stomach and skull was nearly climax-inducing. Your body struggled to fall back as you took in the contrasting flames now filling up the once-dark alleyway with a piercing light. The roofs and windows of the nearby building instantly set on fire. The dumpster now jagged lines of half-melted metal barfing out trash onto the street.
You had shaken your small portion of the world yet again. A small triumph amongst an endless sea of crimes that were your playground.
Their screams took hold of your attention long after you had been staring at those rolling balls of flame. Backing up towards your bag of goodies you listened to the people panic. Trying to find a way to put out the fires the owners of the houses on each side of you called up yet another round of authorities.
Welp, that went accordingly. You walked up to a manhole cover hidden behind a few cardboard boxes you had placed. Picking up the heavy metal with a grunt you slid it over. The men were still trying to see past the dumpsters. Some of them were weaving their way around the buildings to make it to the other side. But you were already two feet underground before they spotted you. Every civilian's eyes were on the fire and every guard just a moment too late.
__________
The walk home was damp and dark. A small cement trail perfect for a brisk stroll. An underwater river that made up the water system of the city to add to the ambiance. A few rats following you along to keep you company.
It was gross and it was dark and it felt like you.
You had been feeding these rather plump rats for a while now. At first, they nearly bit your fingers off but now the little guys couldn’t help but find your light inviting. The small pitter-patter of their feet across the cement and piping brought you comfort despite being alone.
“Here you go you guys.” You mumbled softly. Quickly breaking off little pieces of bread for each rat as they scurried up to your feet. Standing up on their hind legs as their little hands greatly accepted the bread.
It was a ritual at this point. Like paying the toll on a bridge except you were underground and the toll was entirely self-inflicted. Though the rats clearly appreciated it or so you’d like to think. Their black glassy eyes just near a smile and their quiet squeaks a thank you. Letting you scratch their soft tummies before they hurried into the nooks and crannies that were their home.
A home that was akin to yours as soon as you made your way out of these tunnels.
We’re not so different, you and I.
It was a bit difficult getting out of these tunnels because it required nearly getting swept up in a strong current. A smaller cement walkway slanted down towards the river where all lines of water conjoined back together. So you had to tie your bag to your pants. Looping it through your belt and leaning forward as far as you could go without slipping into the water.
The ceiling above was curved and made out of scratchy brick. You’re ass pressed against the wall as you side shuffled towards the light of night. The cool milky sparkles cast upon the rushing water only halfway distracting you from the gross spiderwebs you sometimes ran across.
Eventually, you made your way out. Quiet as a mouse you pressed you’re back to the tall wall separating the towns. Eyeing a forest line off to your right that would ensure nobody would spot you. Of course, the guards up top swung their blinding lamps and guns at anything that got too close. So you had to hide in the shrubbery that lined the walls. Thorns pricking into your skin though you made sure to wear nothing but long selves as you hurried your way towards home.
Thank god that's over with. You slipped into the forest, finding the trail you had carved out to lead you through the darkness. Your home was pressed against an outcropping of rocks. Wood, tarps, and thatch make up the cabin you belong to. One that was made with inexperience but love.
Walking up to the door you let out a little huff of air. Dusting off the dirt on your clothes before grabbing the handle and walking on through. The cabin was dark inside as you started slipping off your boots. Setting the loot bag down on the ground and bending over to unlace your shoes before kicking them off lazily.
Your thigh was of course still hurting like a bitch even if it had stopped bleeding. Your spine basically imprinted with the few kicks they managed to land on you.
A soft sound caught your ears and made you halt. Noticing the small sliver of light coming from underneath the door to your kitchen.
Did I leave that on? No, I always make sure to turn it off. But maybe I didn’t?
Fear struck you like lightning. You’re body halting as if it had been frozen before you forced yourself to move. Carefully craning your neck and pressing your ear to the wall. There were no loud sounds but you could tell there was some faint shuffling. As if someone was walking around in there looting the place.
I’m getting fucking robbed. Nobody knows I live out here! Did someone trail me to my place?
What once was fear became rage. Grinding your teeth unconsciously as you made your way over to the hallway closet. You tried to stay as quiet as possible. Clicking the door open and grabbing out a stolen rifle. Pressing the hilt of it into your armpit you got yourself ready. Aiming it steady as you cautiously walked up to the door. You gave yourself a second to breathe and wipe your sweaty hands on your pants before quickly opening the door. Letting it slam across the wall as you peered into the lit kitchen.
Eyebrows knitted as you found a nearly 7-foot-tall man at your stove. His wide back turned to you before he swiftly turned around, a big smile on his rosy face.
“Ah, glad you’re home dear. I’m making you something.” His voice was smooth and warm. The light rasp of his throat and the soft light of a lamp cast across his imposing figure. His amber eyes looked up and down between your confused face and the gun in your hands.
“What the fuck are you doing in my house?” Growled out of you. Hands steady as you pointed the gun right at his head. Not daring to take a step closer from the doorway.
With a grunt, he pressed his lower back up against the counter and crossed his hands over his wide chest. The corners of his smile turning more sarcastic around its edges. “Making you dinner that’s what. Though I personally don’t think rifles and pasta mix. But whatever makes my doll happy.”
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A/N: So basically Kid is weird as hell. A walking talking red flag if you will. Dude just stared at y/n and was like “Yep…she literally needs me”. AFTER LITERALLY NOT SAYING SINGLE WORD TO HER. JUST DELUSION. Hope you like him like this 💞
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sweetwolfcupcake · 5 months ago
Text
Swords in the Court: Drums of War
Secret Garden
Yandere Don John x Reader
Word count: 7k+
Part 1
Warning: Violence, description of sexual assault, violence against women, the implication of violence against children, threats of violence, implication of sex and sexual activities
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Note: This story is set in a fictionalised historical setting. Though there are clear inspirations drawn from the real world and history, this tale in no way tries to explain, change or state any historical, political, communal, geographical or religious 'facts'. Kindly treat this short-series as it is, a fiction
Unedited and poor attempt at medieval-world description
The knock on your door is heavy and urgent. You sit up on the bed and look around your room, it is plunged into the darkness that comes with a moonless night. Exhaling, you feel around the bedside for a candle, most of them are burnt out. With no choice, you wrap a robe around yourself and climb out of bed.
“Who’s it?”
“It’s me!” comes the muffled but familiar voice from the other side of the door
With rushed movements, you unlock the door and sigh in relief at the sight of Madeline with a lit-up candlestand.
“I received a message from the east. You need to go to the Queen with this?”
“What?”
“My cousin lives there, two nights ago, they saw ships landing there. Through the bay, they came, in the middle of the night. The Queen’s cousin has laid claim to the throne, he has the support of the enemies.”
“Wh–What?. Two nights ago, does the King know of it?” You ask her, ready to rush to the Queen.
“If they have attacked any of the provinces, or plundered any village, hopefully, yes.”
“Do you think the Spanish will help?” You ask Madeline, grasping her hand.
“If the Prince has made up his mind... They have brought some soldiers.”
“I must let the Queen know before she hears it from someone else.”
You put on something decent in a rush and take the candle stand from Madeline 
------
“Go back to your room, and do not let anyone know. Go now,”
Once you have made sure that Madeline has slipped away safely, you make your way to the Queen’s chamber. And of course, the royal guards are on your way.
“Please inform her, I must see her.”
“The Queen is resting, woman. You cannot barge into Her Highness’ chambers!” The knight hisses.
“This is an utmost delicate matter that I ought to bring to her attention, I must meet her—”
“Listen here.” He seizes your arm with a bruising force “Lowborns like you may have won the Queen’s favour, but you must never forget your place, or you shall lose your head!”
You glare at him, hissing with an edge in your voice, growing restless with each delayed moment  “I shall lose my head, anyway, Ser, if I do not get to see the Queen right now!”
“Listen you Blacksmith cunt!” the spray of spit on your face makes you cringe, and the ‘Knight’ mistakes it for fear and grabs you by the hair “Perhaps you forget—”
“Is this how all the Royal Knights treat ladies here or are you an exception Ser?” Ser Lorres unhands you quicker than you can gain your balance. 
A witness to the mistreatment of any of the Ladies-in-Waiting for the Queen is not good for Ser Lorres, or any royal knight for that matter. You staggerer back, trying to regulate your breathing and keep your simmering rage under reins when you bump against a solid torso.
“Lo-Lord Juan! Uh–Duke—”
“Don't bother. I believe the Queen would not be pleased to hear how you treat her Lady-in-Waiting.” 
Lord John makes a dismissive gesture while Lorres is already on his knees, the metal of his armour clanking unceremoniously against the floor. He is warm, you notice, and there is the district fragrance of spice mingled with the tinge of wine.
“Are you hurt, my Lady?”
It is bad news, he had most definitely heard you plead to see the Queen and a man of his stature must not have missed it.
“I am, I thank you for your kindness, My Lord.”
 You step away and turn to him, but you are close enough to notice he is tall, slightly taller than his brother perhaps, it is not for the plain sight until one has the kite’s eyes. For a moment, you think of coming up with an excuse, but you have no time, you instead, seize the opportunity in hand and turn to  Lorres, still on his knee.
“May I have an audience with the Queen, Ser Lorres?”
—---
“The bay, you said?” The Queen’s chamber is well-lit, while she pours herself some wine 
“Yes, Your Grace.”
“My cousin has no real claim to the throne. His House has been exiled!”
“He has laid claim regardless, Your Grace. He has the Kingdom's rival supporting the claim.”
“Of course he has. The French would want a puppet of a King and perhaps some disgruntled Barons and Earls are ready to take up arms as well?”
“W-will we have a war then? Is it inevitable?”
“Not if the Crown Prince weds the Princess. As soon as possible.” She sighs, emptying her glass with a swig.
“What does Spain have to gain from this alliance?” You ask, feeling the trepidation.
“We share a common enemy, with the Kingdom’s port at its service, the Spanish ships shall have the upper hand if conflict breaks out, and an eye on the continent.” She explains
“But is it enough to marry our Princess? He is the Crown Prince of an Empire.”
“Power is earned, child, your birthright can take you only so far. Do you think, with Don Juan in the picture, his crown is safe? He needs an heir. My daughter is young and beautiful, and I have many children, she is my first-born.”
You frown at that, remembering Maddy’s words  “But, did he not pledge his loyalty to the Empire the day he was publicly accepted in the court?”
The Queen scoffs, “Loyalty to the Empire? There is no loyalty in a court, Girl. They want nothing but power. Don Juan has risen up from nothing. Ostracised since childhood, he has faced many attempted assassinations for a reason. He is feared, for a reason.  And here he stands, on the verge of Dukedom. Do you think the Spanish Crown sleeps on that? They need him, Spain knows that war is imminent, they need men like Juan.”
“So, he is a foe, then? " You ask. The answer, though, is quite.
“He is a threat until the Princess marries the Crown Prince and gives him an heir.”
“We need the Spanish, right now.”
“Yes.” She pauses to take a moment and turns towards you “Yes, we do. The threat of war looms nearer than a bastard’s possible claim on the Spanish throne. If they block the main route of supplies, people are going to starve here.”
“What shall be done then?”
“My cousin knows the routes, his father was the Earl of Esterwood for ages, and he will make this move. Fetch me my writing supplies, we must write to our friends. The Spanish came for a wedding, not war.”
“They brought some ships, as gifts.”
“The King shall be dealing with the Emperor, right now, we need the enemies surrounded in our land. I need to write to the West and the North, the South is vulnerable. Of course, they chose the East, eastern provinces have many sympathisers for my cousin’s banished House. The Duke of Reinckalf is our closest ally right now. And if we have the blessings, we would not need ships at all."
You nod and get to work.
—--
It is almost bewildering how a single night has changed the air around the palace. Once beaming with lights and chimes of wedding echoing, the palace is now preparing for a possible war, which can be avoided, if the Spanish agrees to send help. You have no clue though, neither the Prince nor his bastard brother has been seen since the break of dawn, you have slept a wink preparation for a battle is in full swing.
Hope flares in you, when you are sent by the Queen to serve refreshments to the men discussing battle plans. In her absence, you are her ears and eyes.
“The Emperor has been sent a letter. I have written personally to him.” The Spanish Prince sits in front of the King.
“I do not believe we have time to wait, now, My Prince.” Lord Juan speaks up. “The vessels landed on the shore two nights ago, this morning, a soldier has reported three villages plundered. They have the supplies, which tells us that they are preparing for a long conflict. He has the French support, through him, the French are going to test the King’s defences. It’s a gamble, especially after the news of the upcoming wedding is spreading like wildfire.”
“But the Prince’s life is not cheap, brother.” One of the princes speaks up with a sharpened tone.
“Of course, it isn’t. That is why I shall take the charge and lead the arms.”
“I appreciate your bravery, Juan but you cannot act without the permission of the Emperor.”
Don John looks into the Prince’s eyes, a distinct gleam under the light makes it seem like there is a slow-burning fire within dark orbs.
“I shall ride as a man of my own doings. I shall carry no Spanish banner under the sun, not until the Emperor sends a nod.”
The Crown Prince whispers something in Spanish with an edge in his voice, but Don John remains undeterred. He replies, betraying nothing of what might be unleashing in his mind. 
In this delicate moment, you wish you had learnt Spanish, but you were so tired of keeping up with the mannerisms that had to be taught to you from scratch ‘a lot of work’ you appointed governess had complained to the Queen. You always had your own ways, thankfully, the Queen liked that, and she still does.
At last, the Crown Prince sighs and Don John turns to the King
 “I shall be joining with my men and leading this battle along with your sons. I shall carry no Spanish banner. But I assure you of Spain’s support to your Kingdom, this is merely what traditions demand.”
“We shall forever be grateful, My Lord.”
“Please, Don John would do. Besides, my brother is to wed the Princess. Let us send a message, without murking up the diplomacy, we can do it, can we not?” He turns to the Crown Prince, who nods, despite the flicker of hesitance in his eyes.
The wedding is bound to happen, right?
For a brief moment, Don John’s eyes meet yours across the room, but the dark orbs are gone as swiftly as they caught your gaze, now moving towards the King as they engage in battle strategy.
“They should have come from the South, it was closer.” One of the men in the room comments.
“Yes, but the East has many who still harbour sympathy for his house.” the King responds.
“Tell me everything, my Lord. I must know the battlefield I am going into.” Don Juan urges.
—--
Your time in the chamber has been tedious but fruitful. You have all the right pieces of information for the Queen. As you bring her tea to her chamber, you provide the pieces that you have collected.
“I do not understand why he would want to lead the army to a battle that is not even his.”
“Should we worry, Your Grace?” You ask, frowning.
The Queen sighs, thinking “I need you to get to the Healer’s place and give him this letter. I need to know everything about the King’s court. And what do the masses think of this if they even know that the villages have been plundered? Are there any secret recruitments underway? This can decide much of the war, Girl. Visit the town’s brothel under disguise, if Katherine knows anything, she shall let you know—any new face, any discourse of concern. I need to know.”
“Is that how wars are won, My Queen?” You cannot help but ask.
She looks at you and ushers you closer, once closer, she stares into your eyes, her piercing stare sees you right through the deepest, darkest parts of your soul and reflects that in her orbs.  
“I see the fire in you, Girl. One day you are going to be much more relevant. I know you want that. So here is a piece of advice I will give. This is exactly how wars are won. Knowledge is power. Men who go to the battlefield depending on their swords are fools. Battles are won with strategies, not swords.”
You can only nod.
—----
The brothel is bustling with soldiers, merchants and nobles—drinking, laughing, and gambling with half-naked women on their laps.  With a dark hood protecting your identity and your hair braided tight you move past the roaring tables.
“Katherine of Waileswere.” You ask a barmaid who gestures towards the shut door.
Evading the drunk patrons, you walk towards the door, taking the shadows to be as discreet as possible. You knock on the door, but another girl answers the door instead of Katherine. The translucent cloth over her torse does little to cover her, but she does not seem concerned. 
“Is Katherine of Wailswere inside?” You ask her, the fluttering curtains hinder your view. However, the faint whispers along with giggling give you the answer. 
“She’s occupied at the moment.”
“This is urgent. I need to see her.”
“But the patron is a noble…” You do not care, walking right in.
“Noble from the court?” the girl opens her mouth the answer but you add anyway “Does not matter, I shall wait.” 
You will never admit but you regret the moment you say it because the moans and gasps of pleasure along with a peal of hushed, honeyed but deep laughter fill the room. The opaque curtains keep the section of the room hidden but only in sight. You cannot help the heat that warms your cheeks.
 The girl chuckles at you “As you wish, My Lady” she shrugs and walks into a quieter section in the chamber. 
For a fleeting moment, you catch a glimpse of a lean but athletic torso and a supple, feminine thigh against the deep red walls through the opaque curtains. You frown, but make no movement to come out of the shadows or take your hood off. Even though you are curious, you know better than to get caught here. 
As a Lady-in-Waiting for the Queen, you have certain decorum to maintain, especially when you aspire to be a part of the court someday.
People will laugh at you if they come to know that. But you do not care. You have dared to dream and here you are, having the Queen’s favour. Your ambitions are beyond that, they always have been.
Lost in musings, you never notice Katherine walking out. She notices you before you realise.
“Do we have a guest here?” 
Her alluring voice matches with her tantalising and enchanting aura. You understand why men go mad over a night for her—lovers, husbands, nobles, merchants—anyone who can pay the hefty prize that comes with the moments of molten gold over her golden skin, and yet it is she who shall be called the whore, no those men. It’s a good thing that she works for the Queen, she is an excellent source of information and gossip.
“Katherine, I….” Your gaze shifts behind her as the man she has been with saunters out, and you realise you have been too quick to remove your hood.
His glistening body is something that pulls at the gaze. It is tanned to a beautiful bronze, radiant under the daylight filtering inside. He is lean but the hard lines of muscles give away his experience on the battlefield, along with the deep scars. One, in particular, stands out, mapping almost the whole of his stomach in a straight, deep-hued line—healed but not vanished. You wonder what awful things he has stood witness to before your eyes meet his, and you can tell, many.
Recognition flashes in those deep pools that you fear, can cage your soul before he raises a questioning eyebrow, brushing his tousled hair back with his fingers.
“My, my, what do we have here? A lady from the Queen’s chamber?”
You gulp, trying to gather your bearings, well aware of the possibly grave mistake you have made by exposing yourself to the gaze of a man whose intentions are still unclear.
“I-I have come with an invitation from the court for the evening’s events.” You hate the stutter that accompanies your lie and you’re afraid that a man like John sees right through you.
“And they send the Queen’s Lady-in-Waiting? No soldier? This can be a dangerous place for a lady.”
His words confirm your fear.
“Katherine is well-acquainted with the court. This place is not for everyone.” You counter.
Lord John’s head tilts with a scoff and you cannot help but admire the way his hair, otherwise always set to perfection has turned damp with a few strands falling alluringly on his forehead.
“Every man is a monster when given the opportunity.” He says, fastening his pants and your gaze drops to the corner. You can practically feel his gaze on you.
To distract yourself, you turn to Katherine “From the…court.” You offer her the letter from the Queen, she understands and only nods. 
Suddenly, the door opens and a girl rushes in “The knights are here, they say they want to have a word with Katherine.” 
The urgency in her voice makes your blood run cold. You do not even realise it but your gaze gravitates towards Lord John, who easily reads the panic flushing through you by your eyes. You almost expect him to mock you—your lie has been exposed, after all. But instead, he quickly advances and pulls you towards the room.
“What are you—-”
“Here, you can escape through the window, quick!” 
His voice is hushed and urgent as he pushes you towards the low window—it is the ground floor, you do not even have to jump. Despite the questions running through your mind, you comply, quickly making an escape, just as you hear the room’s door burst open. 
You know you should leave, but you cannot bring yourself to. Instead, you put on the hood once more and wait behind a building. What feels like hours later, you watch the knights march past you angrily as you hide in the shadows.
They seem to have not been able to get what they want. You frown but as soon as you turn to find your way out of the place, you come face to face with the familiar tanned chest peeking behind the linen cloth.
“Just as I thought,” he comments as you look up and realise how tall he is. Towering over you with his amused but watchful gaze “Lady, if anyone sees you here, you will be in grave trouble.”
“I was worried.”
“About me?” 
“About Katherine.” You narrow your eyes, although while you say that, you realise that it might not be entirely true.
“Uh-huh? She is safe, they won’t dare challenge me, I must admit though, I expected the knights here to be braver.”
“They would not challenge a royal guest.” You begin to walk ahead, but he catches up with you.
“And I thought she received an invitation from the court itself.” The mockery is clear in his voice and the sharpness makes your cheeks heat up slightly, you have nothing to say “Do not sweat though, you little secret shall remain with me.” 
You glare at him “I do not understand… what do you want? You have no reason to fight yet you volunteered and now you helped me escape and saved Katherine.”
“What if I have a good heart?” His dark eyes gleam with the kind of sharp cynicism that lets you know that none of his words is true. 
“Everything has a price.”
You recall one of the most valuable pieces of advice the Queen has given you “So, what possibly could you want, Lord John?”
For a moment, you brace yourself for a biting retort with the way his face hardens but he catches you off guard once more with his response-
“Everything.”
—-----
You know that you should tell the Queen about your little encounter, and what Don John said. But you cannot bring yourself to. When you let the Queen know of what happened at Katherine’s Merriment House, you cut out the conversation with Don John, after your narrow escape from the Knights. Of course, Ser Lorres was the one heading— even though he is to serve the Queen.
“I gave him no orders, the King gave the orders?”
“It is apparently in his name, yes. However, Your Grace, forgive me, for asking why would he?” 
“Then one of his trusted advisors did. I have received some news regarding Earl of Walden’s increased participation.”
“Lord Beecham?”
“Why would he whore away his daughter then?” She asks sharply and you nod
“The King…So much burden to hold but all the wrong people to share it with. Listen here, child, can I trust you?”
“Yes, yes, My Queen, I serve you, and you alone.” You mean it, if not for her, you do not even want to imagine where you would have ended up.
“I cannot wait for a response from Katherine. You must ride away to Reinckalf immediately. Carry a letter of recognition and they will let you have an audience with the Duke. Hand my letter to no one but the Duke. I do not trust the Council and I want him to know that. Do you understand how important it is?”
You nod as she hands you over the letters.
“Guard it with your life, Girl.”
“I will.” You promise, clutching them tightly between your fingers.
—--
All his life, John has been called ‘Juan’ except for his mother who called him John with a tenderness he has never found again. What he found in the palace, was humiliation, betrayal and the twisted ways of the Empire’s palace. The Emperor did not acknowledge him as his bastard son then. But it was an open secret.
All his life, John has been ostracised—he has known shame and resentment, he is a ‘disgrace’, a ‘mistake’ and his mother was a ‘whore’. 
The mother who did everything to keep him fed and clothed. The mother who taught him to never bend his knee to this twisted world. The mother whom the Emperor used as he pleased and then cast her away. She was not from his land but worked in the palace—chambermaid of no social standing. 
He wonders, often, how she managed to give birth to him, how she managed to live so long. It was a miracle, that he lived, right in the snakes’ nest, he lived. Maybe he was sent to a battle at twelve for the very reason. But he lived then, and in every other battle he was a part of. One of the commanders even took him in as a squire, and he learnt the best ways to handle weapons—it was a privilege, he was not supposed to be as good as any prince, or noble and they never let him forget that. 
After his mother passed away, he left the palace, to travel, but deep down, he knew he simply wished to be as far as possible from the twisted place.
He thought he could escape—-his reality, his truth, the burden he carried since his birth, the burden he played no role in. John has been to places, to courts—travelling, serving as a sellsword all those years, meeting and knowing many, befriending a few, but trusting none.
John has been shaped into the man he is today, through his experience, but most of it has been a long, unending dance with death. At times, he wanted someone to succeed in putting a sword through his stubbornly beating heart, slice an artery and make him bleed till his heart ceased to beat. But alas! The bastard John lived on, grew better, quicker, cleverer.
But one day, he woke up, looked at the beautiful woman in his arms, some fellow soldiers lying around, naked, clothed, drunk, snoring after a decisive victory, and decided that he wanted to live after all. Death would come anyway, it was so certain. Life, so far, had been full of surprises—tumultuous, stern, exacting and thrilling surprises. 
By then, he was twenty and seven, he decided to return to Spain. He had acquired some recognition after these years, and the then commander was willing to take him into the Empire’s army.
The interesting thing about the arms is that despite the bias towards nobles, it provides opportunities, even to bastards like him, to rise. He led battles, aided in military treaties, and strategies and two summers later, he was leading the men in battles. The Empire needs men like him, John knows that, and he has learnt the game. 
John has always wanted to live, but not as a disgrace. He tried to rise to honour—that was all he had dreamt of, and being officially recognised by the Emperor as he stood at the cusp of thirty and two, was the closest to what he aspired to be.
But John has always been ambitious, for all he has suffered, right under his father’s nose, he always aimed for more than recognition and military leadership. He continued to strengthen his position in the court until Juan, the bastard, he became, Don Juan, 
When the Crown Prince’s marriage was fixed as a strategic alliance with a Kingdom a good sail away, he decided to join the men who would reach there first, in disguise to ensure that the wind was indeed in the Empire’s favour. To him, it was nothing more than responsibility, another step on the ladder. And it had been so until he wandered into the unassuming woods to bask in solitude and clear his head. 
Until he wandered near a creek, for his beloved stallion to quench its thirst, and there, he saw you—floating so carelessly through the streams, while two of your friends chatted a distance away. He wanted to be closer, but he stepped back, hiding behind the thicket, so he could watch you, and the way hair moved along, the manner you swam on your back, eyes closed under the tender autumn sun. John’s heart had been beating in a stubborn, steady rhythm for a while, but after a long time, he felt his heart pick its pace.
He thought he might never see you again, but there you were, in the Grand Feast, and he had the most striking gaze fixed on him—not out of malice, or the arrogance he had expected, but with pure curiosity—and this time, his heart skipped a beat.
And you have been on his mind ever since. As much as he frowns upon it, this is an undeniable truth that thrums with every beat of his heart. For now, he is aware that the Queen puts her trust in you–-the letter meant for Katherine in his hold tells him so.
—---------
“Deus adiuvet in proelio”
John bowed his head, letting the Bishop bless him and his sword before handing the naked steel back to him. 
—--
The world around you is a blur as your trusted horse rides through the forest. The cold gusts whip against you, like inhaling ice as the night rolls on, but you cannot stop to rest, you must reach Reinckalf before it is too late.
—-
“We ought to safeguard the route for supplies first, lest they capture the main route the capital shall perish. Have you sent the message to the provinces?” John enquires as he reaches his stallion—a black beauty, almost invisible in the dark.
“Yes, My Lord, their soldiers are on their way, some from the nearest provinces have joined us tonight.”
John nods.
“We must ride through the night.” He states before getting on his horse “Come on, boy.” He whispers to his trusted companion before tightening his hold on the reins.
As if his eyes developed a will of their own, his eyes turn towards the nearest tower, where some court ladies stand, most of them, to bid their loved ones a good fortune. A part of him hopes to see you among them. But he returns his gaze to the road ahead with a tinge of disappointment before squeezing his legs as his horse begins moving, followed by the rest of the men.
—--
The room is quiet, except for the crackling of the fireplace and the rustle of the Duke’s clothes as his eyes take in the contents of the letters the Queen has sent you all the way to this place. You have ridden through the night and dawn, finally reaching the gates of the Reinckalf.
As soon as he raises, you follow.
“My men shall meet the King’s army eastward. The maids shall lead you to a chamber, you are free to ride back to the capital, My lady. A battleground is no place for a Lady.”
“Yes, my Lord, I know so. But I have vowed to return to the Queen only with a pleasant word.” You bow before meeting his eyes.
The Duke stands as if studying you briefly before nodding  “As you wish.”
—-------
“The Eastern Provinces may sympathise with the fallen King, and since George, the Queen’s cousin, is the only male heir, they may refrain from sending their men to fight against him, at best.” The Earl of Easterwood states as he stands with John in his chamber. “If forces are joining, Esterwood castle walls can hold them for only so long. But since the army has arrived from the capital, we are relieved.”
“John eyes the layout along the table-sized map.” 
“How many of the barons fought with the previous King?”
“The previous earl was armed by more than a handful of them before they reluctantly surrendered.”
“And how many men do they have right now?”
“I’m afraid, we have no exact numbers, My Lord.”
John’s gaze is sharp as he glances up, but he says nothing and returns his focus to the map. “How many days will it take for the Northerners to reach?”
“If they are fast as they claim, two more days, My Lord.”
“But we have less time if George is marching forward.”
“They say the French have provided them with some of their best troops, two sakers.”
John sighs “I see. Prepare your men, put them on guard for the castle.” 
“At your command Lord Juan,” the Earl bows as John walks past him. 
—-----
“I believe that you are well-acquainted with the histories of this land?” The Duke asks as you ride beside him, two bannermen trotting ahead on their horses while his troops ride behind you two.
“I have, as a lady must, my lord.”
“Then you must have noticed that tis a cycle, my lady. A King is crowned, then comes another,  and another, cities burn, villages are plundered, hundreds die until an empire crumbles to ashes.”
“Then comes another.” You add in a hushed tone, speaking more or less to yourself. “But we must do our duty.” You conclude, raising your chin.
“People have walked through blood to reach the throne, My Lady. I have seen the Queen’s father rule over this Kingdom, and I am seeing her husband rule over this Kingdom—there is no duty—there is only blood.”
You eye him, wary, intrigued and confused “The Queen tells me that you are her friend.”
“I assure you of my allegiance with the Queen. We have been friends since we were children.”
“I would not dare to question your loyalty, My Lord.” You assure him. Offending a man of his stature is the last thing on your mind.
“When we face the enemies tomorrow, My Lady, you shall see my loyalty anyway, and let the Queen know, that she has friends, true friends still.” He states as they continue through the trodden road.
—---
“John, will you tell us what is going in your head?” Borachio and Conrade follow John as they ride deeper into the woods.
“For now we are taking cover. I do not wish to be dead anywhere other than the battlefield.”
“So honourable and glorious.” Conrade comments with a chuckle
“You think I am honourable? Do you think I seek glory?” John scoffs, glancing at his friend. "They're all built on lies."
“Why are we here?” Borachio asks
“Because nothing matters in a war, only victory,” John responds as his stallion stops at a point. They can now see the enemy camp but are perfectly hidden from sight.
—--
It has been a long day for the soldier. Other than the village, they plundered on their way, and they had no rest or food.
 ‘Rest’ is not the way to describe how he and his friend barged into one of the many cottages. It was dark inside, but there was unmistakably a woman there. His friend threatened her with his dagger while he grabbed some fruits and bread.
He does not remember her face or know her name, but now, as he lays in the tent, guarding the cannon balls and some steel, her cries haunt him. His friend held her down by the neck while he tore her clothes and thrust inside her. And after he was done, his friend took his turn before he cut her throat and left the cottage to burn. 
He closes his eyes, feeling much lighter without the armour. Sleep is not far away either. He is tired and they have been travelling. Tomorrow may—
The sudden smell of smoke catches him off guard. He springs on his feet, frantically looking around. His eyes widen as he sees one of the tent walls in flames, nearing the containers for explosives and canon balls, placed along with a pile of others.
“N—!” 
But it is too late, as the tent explodes with a deafening boom, throwing the camp into a burning, bloody and miserable chaos. It gives way to many more explosions and fires like cards inevitably falling one after another.
And amidst the havoc, three men slip away into the woods, unnoticed. 
—------
“Good Lord! How did you know they have already reached?” The realisation and fear dawn upon Borachio as the adrenaline wears off while they ride through the woods.
“Before we reached here. Lord Beecham said that he had information regarding the route they had taken. He most obvious lie I have heard here. Lord Beecham is no friend of the King.”
“What is it to you? Why do you risk us, yourself for this?” 
John turns to Borachio, as their horses trot through the woodland “Because I want to.”
“You never walk on a whim.” Conrade pushes.
There is no trace of pride in his eyes for what he has done. He simply has done what was needed to be done to gain the upper hand.
“Then you know me.” That is all the explanation John provides them with as they ride back to the palace.
“Be prepared for tomorrow.” He breaks the stretched silence during their ride back once the horses are back in the stable.
—----
The early arrival of the George, backed by the French Army at Esterwood catches most off guard. 
The battle has been decided tomorrow, why not today?” The earl wonders aloud as he shows John potential battlegrounds.
“Because they are not prepared yet,” John replies before putting a paperweight over a shallow hill on the map.
“The Northerners are yet to arrive, we are short of men. If Esterwood falls, it shall be a blow to the Crown---a humiliation! George will win.”
“I understand, My Lord, and that is why, we take downhill.”
“What? You baffle me good Lord, why take such a disadvantageous position?”
“You have a great knowledge of the geography here?”
“I assure you, I do.”
“Then prepare your men and send them the message to meet us tomorrow at the uphill.”
“But that gives them momentum.”
“That is what I want. Here,” he raises the paperweight and points near the hill, “if I am not wrong, is a bog. I want the troops to start working on the spears”
—---
The sun rises with two royal sigils against each other on the battleground. 
“Take positions!”
John commands and the men behind him point their spears. 
“Archers! Take positions!”
He commands again and the archers positioned strategically ready themselves and their bows.
“Lord Commander, who gave you information about the troops?”
“I believe a handful of barons holds sympathy for the Pretender.” The older man sighs, eyeing the expanded enemy troops, holding up the sigil that once stood over the capital of the Kingdom.
“Where are the Northerners?” 
“On their way, I assure you. The enemies have reached long before the estimated time.”
John gives him a sharp glance before straightening up.
“Either way, we must fight. And we must win” 
With that, he puts on his helmet, and the heavy metal clanks against his armour as he positions his sword over his horse, the men on foot have already taken position around the bog. 
Finally, the Lord Commander raises his sword and the horns blow.
—--
From a vantage point of view, it might look like ants rushing down a slope, pointed and organised initially, until they reach the bottom and their horses fail. Like a pile of cards, they fall. And that is when the men around the bog charge with arrows raining down.
Spears, swords, blood, dirt and mud, all become one on the wet ground. Those who manage to escape the bog—-on foot or on horse, are met by John and other men on their horses. But that is not enough. With a command to charge them on foot, John gets off his stallion and charges towards the incoming enemies with his naked sword.
The epics and the ballads sing of such scenes as glorious, something heroic. The plays, the paintings, the history records—all paint them in golden light. 
In reality, there is nothing heroic, or glorious about battles—it is simply men trying to survive. And there is only one way to survive on a battlefield without humiliation–to fight, to keep fighting. John’s breaths come out as gasps as he pushes, cuts, punches and wrestles through the armoured men.
It is a brutal chaos. Fight and live, or fight until you die.
His sword clashes with another's, he is swift on his feet—he has fought worse. He stands his ground, swiftly using his shield to protect himself against the incoming blows before attacking again. His sword meets his rival’s shield thrice before another armoured man attracts. But John is swift to move away and take position again. Using this shield, he hits one on the head, destabilising him before taking off his metal helmet and hitting one with it. It gives him enough time to push him onto the ground and swiftly push his sword through the gap, the blood and the sounds of the flesh being pierced are drowned by the man's short-lived but blood-curdling scream before he falls limp while John blocks another hit from the other man with his shield. His hands shake under the attack but he refuses to budge.
So much within a span of a moment. His attention shifts to the other man’s raised sword before John blocks with his shield again before jumping back on his feet. He quickly attacks one of the approaching horses, cutting off the strap as the man on it falls on his current, bloodthirsty rival. Giving the fallen soldier no time to think, John takes his dagger and stabs the man in his eyes through the gap in his helmet before forcefully pulling off his helmet and stabbing him through the neck. He barely even looks into his eyes before pushing the body away and finally holding the man he has been fighting down, kicking his shield away and hitting him with his armoured head with his helmet until it bends. Finally, he takes off the helmet and hits his enemy’s bare and vulnerable head with his helmet with gritted teeth and lips curled up in a snarl until his face is marred with his rival’s blood and his rival, dead underneath him. 
But the battle is far from over and victory is not near enough. Back on his feet, John pushes and punches through armoured men, grabbing one in an armlock before hitting his head with the back of his sword. He throws him on the ground, where he is stomped over by the rest of the fighting soldiers and frightened horses.
Breathlessly, he fights through, until he hears horns at a distance. His eyes move to the source as relief washes over him at the sight of Reinkalf’s sigil along with the Kigdom’s. There is cheer, uproar and newfound vigour as the men fight.
“The Northern army!” Another man roars. 
From the other side rides down a large, imposing army from the north, scattering and completely overpowering the rest of the French troops. Their horses and swords cut through the enemy forces swiftly.
This indeed is his day.
John can’t help but think as a rare laugh bursts out of his bloodied mouth before he pushes against and attacks the enemy soldiers with newfound vigour.
It is a decided battle now, but his eyes search for George. As he fights through the men, reaching the middle, he misses a swordsman rising on his feet before it is too late, he is hurled on the ground, mud in his eyes and a heavy, armoured hand comes for for his jaw. John spits out blood, disoriented, half-blinded but swift enough to block another blow with his hands. His hand grabs a fallen helmet before he swings it on the man over his with full force. Breathless and bloody, he spits out again before snatching swinging the helmet again, and again, and again. Until the man falls beside him. Swiftly, John climbs over him and continues to hit him with the helmet until it breaks. Taking his dagger, he plunges it through the gap of the helmet.
Breathless and exhausted, he reluctantly takes off the armour protecting his torso—it is slowing him down. This man almost had him. He turns to swiftly block another incoming sword with his. Now much lighter and quicker, he easily manoeuvres through the battlefield. His sword slices through metal and flesh, leaving it dripping with warm blood.
 He can almost taste victory along with the mud and grass until he feels the sudden piercing of a dagger on the left of his torso. He growls and turns to the attacker.
He is not wearing the enemy’s armour.  
But he has no time to think through as the armoured man hits him with his shield, throwing him on the ground. John moves as fast as he can, rolling away deeper into the fighting ground spitting blood, and feeling the warm liquid flowing down from the side of his face.
The horns of victory blow, but it is all muffled by John, who finds his breath slowing as his vision dims.
*****
Phew! A long, boring chapter. But do not worry, things will pick up pace in the next.
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guilty-pleasures21 · 1 year ago
Text
The biology professor
Just a random thought I had about Bully!Jason x Shy!Reader who's his biology professor in university.
Warnings: explicit description of sex (male x female).
---------------------------------------------------------
     Jason sighed as he dumped his bag on the ground and sank into the seat next to his friend. Roy raised an eyebrow, amused by Jason’s irritation, then returned his attention to his laptop. “What’s wrong, Jay? I thought you loved biology?” 
     Jason shot him an exasperated look as he folded his arms across his chest. He’d only taken this class because Roy had promised him that everyone passed the class. Roy slid his gaze over to him and snickered when he saw the irritated look on his face. 
     “Oh, my bad. You just love our biology professor,” Roy corrected, glancing over at their adorable little professor. She straightened from behind her laptop and Jason’s lips curled at the ends when he saw her pretty face. She was so cute with her round eyes and her curly hair and her small frame. And she was so sweet too, always making sure to pay extra attention to those struggling in her class. It was no wonder all her students were half in love with her. Jason glanced around the room, taking in their class. And that more than half her class was male. 
     “Am I late?! What did I miss?!” Wally breathed out, rushing into the hall and collapsing into the seat on Jason’s other side. His hair was dishevelled and his clothes rumpled, like he’d just woken up then tossed them on before running to class. Jason sighed and folded his arms across his chest. 
     “You’re always late, Wally,” he replied, turning his attention back to their professor. Roy leaned over him to speak to Wally. 
     “You didn’t miss anything,” he reassured him. “Just Jay’s huge crush on our adorable little professor.” Jason frowned at him, but Wally scoffed in amusement as he pulled his tablet out of his bag. 
     “Yeah. You and everyone else in this hall,” he mumbled, causing Jason’s frown to deepen even further. He glanced around the hall, studying the many admiring gazes trained on their professor, and shifted in his seat, disgruntled. He’d have to do something about that later.
     Her lips widened into a grin as she passed Jason back his test paper. 
     “Good job, Jason! I’m really proud of you!” she praised him. He’d improved so much since the first tutoring session she’d given him, and he seemed to have developed a real interest in the subject as well. It was just too bad that he still had trouble keeping his temper under control, she lamented, noting the bruises around his knuckles. But hopefully they’d find a way to overcome that too. 
     Jason’s lips curled into a tiny smirk as he let his eyes trail over his professor’s sweet features. God, she was cute when she smiled at him like that. Tony had absolutely deserved the beating he’d gotten, saying all those lewd things he’d said about her. Jason twirled a strand of her hair around his finger from where he’d slung his arm over the back of her chair. “What can I say? I had a good teacher.” 
     X lowered her gaze as she bit down on her smile. “Thanks. So, um, was there anything else you wanted me to go through today?” 
     She tapped her pen on the table as she waited for his response, her dark eyes round and questioning as she lifted her gaze back to his. Jason felt his heart pick up its pace: this was it, this was his chance. 
     “Uh, yeah, actually,” he agreed carefully. “I was wondering if you could teach me a little more about the reproductive system?” She froze at his question, not expecting the request. But it was a chapter that would come up later in the course anyway. Maybe he just wanted to get a headstart? 
     “Um, okay!” She turned back to his textbook to flip it back to the contents page. “Let me just find the-” 
     Jason placed a hand on the book, stopping her in her tracks. X looked up at him, her brows furrowed in confusion, and he pressed his lips together to keep from flashing her a wicked grin. “Not like that. You always said I was more of a … What did you call it? The kind of person who learns better by doing things?” 
     “A kinetic learner!” X jumped in quickly, understanding what he was talking about. Jason’s lips curled at the ends at her enthusiasm. How did she become a professor at such a young age? And how the hell was she still single? So cute and sweet and f*cking hot as she was. 
     “Right,” he replied slowly, spreading his legs a little wider apart and leaning back in his seat. “So, I was wondering if we could have a more ‘kinetic’ lesson.” 
     She swallowed hard as her gaze fell to his thick and muscular thighs. Then she pulled her eyes back up to his, embarrassed by the direction in which her thoughts had headed. “Um, okay. So … what do you want to know?” 
     He leaned forward and ran his fingers through her hair, admiring the silkiness of her curly locks. “Well, I … I’d learn to learn more about sex. Like, how does it happen? How does it work? Between two people.”
     She squeezed her legs together as he played with her hair, her body getting excited by hearing the word fall from his mouth. But he was her student, for goodness’ sake! He just … wanted to be prepared for their future classes. She shifted towards him slightly and gestured to her body, staunchly avoiding his gaze. “Um, so, women actually have three openings in their pelvic area. There’s-
     “Not like that, prof,” Jason interrupted her, his lips curling into that irresistible smirk again. X felt her cheeks heat up at the look on his face - at the teasing tone in his voice as he addressed her by that term. Then she lowered her gaze again and began fidgeting with her fingers. Jason snickered at her reaction and brushed his fingers along the back of her neck. “There’s this girl that I really like. And I’d like to know how to … take care of her. Could you teach me that? Professor?”
     X clenched her muscles to stop the shiver from running down her spine at the gruff tone of his voice. 
     “Um, okay. But, um, I guess … Should we … go to my bed?” she suggested nervously, sneaking a glance at him to gauge his reaction. Jason gestured for her to lead the way, then stood up to follow behind her as she walked to her bedroom. She took a cautious seat on the end of her bed and Jason sank into it beside her. “Um, so, I guess you could start with foreplay?”
     Jason raised an eyebrow in question, pretending he had no idea what she was talking about, and X shifted her body to face him, her nerves disappearing as she went into ‘professor-mode’. 
     “So, foreplay is like kissing and touching and that kind of stuff. Just to warm you and your partner up so you can get in the mood a little more?” she explained matter-of-factly. “It’s also a good chance for you to just appreciate one another and make the other person feel desired.”
     Jason nodded in understanding and narrowed his eyes as if he was thinking about it. “Okay. So … how would that work?”
     “Um, well, so … some people have kinks? Like, um, roleplay or bondage or …” X’s eyes widened midway through her explanation and she waved her hands in front of her face. “But you don’t have to do that! You can always just go for the classic kissing and stuff.” 
     She shrugged, like it was no big deal, and Jason inched closer to her. “Hmm. Could you show me? Just so I can get a better understanding?”
     “Um, okay.” X shuffled closer to him, then leaned forward and closed her eyes, puckering her lips slightly as she waited. Jason grinned and cupped her cheek in his hand as he leaned forward to press his lips to hers. He brushed his tongue against her closed mouth and she parted her lips in response, allowing him to slide between them and stroke her tongue with his. She let out a little moan at the taste of him and Jason smiled before sliding his hand down to her waist and tugging at her. X twisted her legs to get closer to him and Jason groaned as she ran her palm up his chest and to his shoulder. She gasped as he grabbed her waist and pulled her up onto his lap, his mouth never leaving hers. Then she shuddered when he slid his hands beneath her shirt and up her back.
     He nipped at her lower lip as he dragged his fingers down her back and she let out a little squeak at the action. God, she was cute. Jason squeezed her waist appreciatively, delighting in her perfect curves, and moved his lips to her neck. “You’re such a good kisser, professor.” 
     She tightened her grip on his shoulders and squeezed her legs together, her body starting to heat up at the intimate way he was touching her and moving his lips along her skin. “T-Thank you.”
     He chuckled at her nervous squeak and X shivered as the low vibrations of the sound rumbled against her neck. Jason moaned and glided his hands up her sides as he tugged on her earlobe with his teeth. “So. What’s next?”
     X whimpered as he nipped at her collarbone, his teeth grazing her skin teasingly. What were they supposed to be doing again? “Um, we’d … You can … start taking … our clothes off?”
     “Mmm,” Jason hummed in excitement as he pressed a kiss to the crook of her neck. Then he straightened to pull her shirt off. His eyes darkened with lust when he saw her almost completely bare before him. He ran his hands up and down her sides and swallowed hard as his gaze travelled over her body. “Prof, can I … Can I just …”
     Jason tugged her hips closer to his and dipped his head between her breasts to press a kiss there. He trailed his lips down her chest then pulled on the waistband of her bra with his teeth. X sucked in a breath when he released it, allowing the band to snap against her skin and cloud her thoughts with arousal. He was so good, but her mind had become much too drowsy with lust for her to realise that he’d probably been lying about not knowing anything about sex. Jason grinned at the dazed look on her face, then unclasped her bra and slid it off of her. 
     “F*ck,” he breathed, taking in the sight of her beautiful body. She was even more gorgeous than he’d imagined - than any of them had probably imagined - and he couldn’t believe that he was the lucky one who got to taste her. He reached up to cup her breasts in his hands, then groaned at the feeling of her soft flesh between his fingers. “What should I do now, professor?” 
     Her toes curled at the gruff sound of his voice and her nipples tingled as he brought his mouth closer to them, his warm breath drifting over her skin teasingly. She shifted in position as she felt the arousal starting to leak out of her and Jason chuckled lowly against her chest. “J-Jason …” 
     F******ck. To hear her say his name like that? His name? When more than half the students in her class had dreamed about f*cking her at some point or another? Shit. He flicked his tongue over her nipple, tickling her lightly, and she rolled her hips against his involuntarily. 
     “Argh, f*ck!” he growled, feeling his cock start to harden in excitement. 
     “Ah! J-Jason!” his pretty little professor whined, grinding herself against him as he closed his mouth around her breast and sucked on her thirstily. He squeezed her waist, rocking her body against his, and she gasped at the feeling of his dick poking her thigh through his jeans. 
     Holy shit, he was amazing! His tongue, swirling around her nipple as he basically swallowed her breast in his mouth? His fingers, brushing all over her skin and squeezing her curves appreciatively? And his thighs? His firm, muscled thighs that were hiding god-knew-how-big-of-a-dick between them? Jason released her breast only to take hold of the other and bounce them between his hands before showering them with hungry kisses. 
     “Jason,” she breathed, grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling on it desperately. Jason chuckled and nipped at her collarbone, then growled when she whimpered at the feeling. He sat back and ripped his shirt off, then flipped them over so she was trapped beneath him on the bed. X looked up at him with wide eyes and he flashed her a wicked smirk, causing her to gulp at the sight. 
     Shiiiiiiit. He was so large and so toned, looming over her in a way that made her stomach flip through an entire gymnastics routine. She curled into herself, covering her chest with her forearms shyly. But Jason took hold of her wrists and pinned her to the bed beneath him, trapping her. He let his eyes run down her body hungrily, then he lifted his gaze back to hers and raised an eyebrow in question. “What next, sweetheart?” 
     “J-Jason,” she stammered, trembling at the way he looked down at her - like he was a predator and she was his helpless prey he couldn’t wait to sink his teeth into. “I don’t think-” 
     “Professor,” he drawled lazily, his dark hair falling into his mossy green eyes. “I thought you said you’d help me out if I ever needed it.” 
     He lowered himself on top of her, his hard chest pressing into her soft breasts, his lips just inches away from hers. “And I really need your help right now.” 
     He rolled his hips against hers, indicating what, exactly, he needed help with, and her back arched off the mattress in response. She turned back to him, her brain fuzzy with lust again, and nodded drowsily. “Yes.”
     Jason grinned at her consent and ran his hands down her body as he sat back. He tore off his jeans before she could change her mind, then pulled off her little shorts and tossed them out of her reach. 
     “F*ck,” he breathed, his eyes roving over her naked body, her tanned skin and soft curves so perfect beneath him. He pressed his hips against hers and dragged his cock along her length and X sucked in a breath at the feeling. 
     “Jason,” she sighed, wrapping her arms around his neck and digging her fingers into his muscles. God, he felt good, thick and hard and so warm against her. He buried his face in the crook of her neck and she twisted her fingers into his hair as he slipped his hands between her legs. He slid his fingers up and down her length, scissoring her clit and teasing her hole. Then he dipped a finger into her entrance and curled it against her walls. Her hips bucked off the mattress as her body tightened at the feeling and she moaned his name again. 
     “X,” Jason groaned, his voice muffled by the way his mouth was pressed against her shoulder. He pushed himself off of her and pulled his finger out of her, then shuffled back so he could lower his mouth to her p*ssy. X pushed herself up to her elbows and shot him a curious look as he smiled at her. And then he licked a line right up her centre and she found herself collapsing back onto the mattress in ecstasy. She gripped onto the bedsheets as he began kissing and suckling on her, her body fighting to move against his strong arms that held her down against the mattress. “X …”
     She whimpered as he mumbled her name, the vibrations of his voice rumbling through her core and caressing her very bones. Holy shit, he was good! She didn’t think she’d ever had anyone please her so thoroughly before; anyone who ate her out like she was the most delicious thing they’d ever tasted. She squirmed and writhed against the bed, whining at the way he slowed down his movements every time he felt her reaching her edge. “Jason!” 
     F*ck, she was cute. The little sounds she’d made everytime he stole her orgasm away from her? He dug his fingers into her thighs, enjoying the way her lovely breasts bounced up and down everytime she wriggled against the bed. He pulled her folds into his mouth, then gave her p*ssy one last kiss before he sat up and pulled her hips against his. He took hold of his cock, hot and fat in his hand, and traced it around her entrance, coating himself in her sticky liquid. X grabbed his wrist quickly, stopping him before he could plunge himself into her, and he raised an eyebrow in question. She released her grip on him and twisted around to pull something out of her drawer. 
     “You should … use this … if you want her … to enjoy it,” she told him, forcing the words out between shallow breaths. He glanced down at the tube she was holding out to him, then rearranged his features into an expression of confusion. 
     “What’s that?” X sat up and opened the cover to squeeze some of the liquid onto her hand. 
     “It’s lubricant,” she explained to him, setting the tube aside and rubbing it between her palms. “It’ll help you go in easier and make the experience more enjoyable for her.” Jason nodded carefully, trying not to let his excitement at having her fingers all over him show on his features. He sat back on his thighs, waiting obediently for her to continue, and X took hold of him without hesitation. He dug his fingers into the mattress as she coated his cock with the warm liquid, swallowing down his pleased groans at the way she fisted him between her hands so delightfully. He looked down at her cute little face, her curly hair framing her features so perfectly, and the prec*m began leaking from his tip at the thought of being inside her mouth. F*ck, he could just imagine it, stuffing his lovely little professor’s mouth full with his cock. Shit. How many other students would kill to be him right now? X sat up and gathered her hair behind her shoulders before laying back on the bed and spreading her legs wide. She gestured down to her p*ssy, blushing and leaking for him, and Jason swallowed hard at the sight. 
     She kept her eyes fixed on his as he crawled over her, his biceps flexing with every move he made. God, he was hot. Whoever this girl was who he was pursuing was a very lucky girl indeed. Jason slid his hand down her body, then took hold of his cock and began prodding at her entrance. “Tell me if it hurts, professor. I’ll take it slow for you.” 
     X nodded and wrapped her arms around his neck. Then she let out a soft moan as he entered her, his thick cock easing her open and brushing up against her walls. She bent her knees as he continued pushing in deeper and deeper, shifting her position so she could better accommodate the entire length of him. And then he bottomed out inside of her and she felt her eyes watering with pleasure and how fully he filled her up. “Shit, Jason.” 
     He chuckled at hearing the curse fall from her lips, then bent over to give her a quick kiss. She latched onto his lips immediately, pulling him down so she could slide her tongue into his mouth and tangle it with his. She moaned again as he kissed her back and he curled his hand around her waist to hold her tight against him. Shit, she felt good, her body so soft and perfect beneath his. F*ck. His hips began moving against hers, his cock begging him for relief and his pretty little professor’s head fell back in delight. He lowered himself on top of her, wrapping her up in his arms, and X whined and mewled as he thrust his cock in and out of her. 
     “X,” he murmured, his voice low and throaty as he repeated her name with every thrust of his hips. Holy shit, he felt amazing, stuffing her up with that nice, fat cock of his. She tangled her fingers in his hair as he pumped himself in and out of her, holding him close against her so she could feel every line of his defined muscles pressing up against her. Shit, he felt good. 
     He picked up his pace, his movements getting faster and harder as he felt himself approaching his edge. But she came first, her p*ssy squeezing his dick so deliciously that his hips stuttered and a choked whimper escaped his throat. 
     “X,” he gasped, his abdomen tightening as she pulsed and throbbed around him. And then he came, his entire body finally relaxing as his c*m shot out of him and into her. He sighed and collapsed on top of her as his dick went limp inside of her. “F*ck.” 
     She giggled at his muttered curse, then ran her fingers through his hair, brushing the soft strands lazily as he cuddled her against him. Jason groaned as he pushed himself off of her after a while and X felt her stomach flip at the sight of him leaning over her.  
     “Thanks for the biology lesson, professor.” He grinned and cupped her cheek in his hand, then bent over to begin kissing her. He moaned at the sweet taste of her in his mouth, then straightened again so he could look down upon her. 
     Her entire body buzzed with delight as she pushed herself onto her elbows, her p*ssy heating up again at the feeling of his dick nestled deep inside of her. Her eyes trailed over his body, tracing the outlines of each of his muscles, and she felt herself start to leak around him again at the sight. Shit, he was hot. She swallowed down her thoughts and pulled her gaze away from his, trying to wrestle back control of her brain. “Um, no problem, Jace. Let me know if … if it helped. With that … girl you like.” 
     He grinned and leaned into her, amused by her cluelessness in the situation. “Well, if it didn’t, I could always come back for another lesson, right, prof?” 
     He pressed his lips to the side of her neck and X’s head fell back in response, exposing even more of her throat for him to graze his teeth again. He licked and nibbled on her skin, making his way up her neck to suck on her earlobe. X moaned as he tugged on her soft flesh with his teeth and Jason lowered his mouth to her shoulder to press a kiss there before straightening again. He fixed her with a questioning look and X shook her head at him in confusion. “What?” 
     “I said,” Jason began, running his hand along her side as his eyes trailed over her body and down to the part where they were still joined together, “if you didn’t like that, I could always come back for another lesson. Professor.” He pressed his lips to hers before she could digest his words, smiling against her mouth as he kissed her softly. 
     “Me?” she asked, unsure if she’d heard him right. “If I didn’t like that?” Jason snickered and swirled his tongue around her mouth before stopping to mumble against her lips. 
     “You think I could pay attention to anyone else when I’ve got such a pretty little professor standing in front of me every week? You’re so f*cking beautiful, sweetheart.” He wrapped an arm around her lower back, holding her against him as he kissed her deeper this time. X curled her legs around his waist, but her entire body tightened when she finally understood the meaning of his words. 
     “Wait,” she breathed, trying to catch her breath after he finally pulled his lips away from hers. She looked up at him, eyes wide with question, and Jason’s irises darkened at the sight. “This … This was all for me?” Jason nodded, his lips twitching with amusement at the incredulous look on her face, and X lowered her gaze, suddenly shy. 
     “Oh,” she murmured softly, trying to figure out how to respond to the revelation. Jason chuckled and sat back so he could lift her up onto his lap. 
     “Come on, professor,” he told her, holding her perfect little body close against his. “You have to know that everyone in our class has dreamed of f*cking you at least once.” 
     X curled into herself, embarrassed by the thought. “I’m sure not everyone has thought of that. Is that the only reason they’re in my class?” 
     She flashed him a nervous expression, suddenly doubting her talents and skills, and Jason shook his head quickly before brushing her hair away from her face.
     “You’re an amazing teacher, X,” he reassured her, stroking her back soothingly. “I mean, look how much you’ve helped me out. Everyone always thought I was gonna be hopeless, but you made me believe I could actually make something of myself.” Her features broke into a pleased smile at his words and Jason felt his heart flutter at the sight. He pulled her closer to him so he could begin kissing her again and she sank into his chest as she slid her tongue into his mouth. 
     “But, um,” X began apprehensively, fidgeting with her fingers as she pulled back from him. She snuck a glance at him, then quickly lowered her gaze again. “This is highly inappropriate, Jason. We shouldn’t be doing this as long as you’re in my class.” 
     He opened his mouth to respond, but she beat him to it, cutting him off with an adorable twist of her lips. “And don’t say you’ll just drop out! You’ve worked so hard and I really want to see you get a good grade at the end of it.” 
     God, she was cute. Too cute for him to keep his hands off of her for that long. Jason wrapped his arms around her soft curves and began moving his hips as he pulled her into his chest, slowly beginning to thrust himself in and out of her again. X let out a squeak as her body contracted with arousal, responding to him of its own volition, and Jason chuckled at her reaction. “Whatever you say, professor.” 
     “Miss X is looking extra cute today,” Roy observed, leaning over to nudge Jason’s side with his elbow. 
     “Yeah,” Wally agreed, sighing with longing at the sight of her bare legs. “How am I supposed to concentrate on anything when she's wearing that cute little skirt?” Jason rolled his eyes at their teasing, but let his eyes wander over her tight little body as she walked across the stage. His mouth began to water as his eyes lingered on the curve of her ass and he tapped his fingers against his arm impatiently. Maybe he'd make her keep that pretty little skirt on while he sat her down on his cock later. The room filled with the sound of shuffling feet as everyone gathered their things to start leaving and Jason waved his friends off as they gestured to the door. 
     “I'll catch up with you guys later,” he assured them lazily. “I have a few questions for Miss X.” They shrugged and bounced down the stairs, waving goodbye to their professor along the way. Jason slung his bag over one shoulder and strolled down to the platform where his gorgeous little professor had been pulled into a conversation with some of the other students. 
     “I think it depends on the issue for me,” she replied to one of their questions. “Like, if you're genetically predisposed to mental illness, you’re incredibly likely to get it, despite your circumstances. But if you're predisposed to addiction and you're just never exposed to any addictive substances, then you'll probably be fine.” Her eyes were bright with excitement as she spoke and Jason couldn’t help the warm feeling that spread through his chest at the sight. 
     “That's really interesting, professor,” one of the guys whose name Jason had never bothered to learn agreed. “But what about in terms of … sexual preferences? I read ahead in our textbook and saw that immunocompatibility can play a big role in how sexually attracted we are to someone.” 
     And that was his cue to step in. X nodded along to the question, completely oblivious to the fact that the guy was hitting on her right now, and began animatedly explaining the concept of biodiversity. Jason walked up behind the guy and flashed his professor a lazy smirk, distracting her and causing her to lose her place. 
     “Um, so, we'll be going into more depth when we reach that topic later, but it's nice to see my students taking an interest in the subject!” She grinned at him, then her gaze flickered back to Jason, tall and large and studying her with that hungry look on his face. Shit, he was hot. She swallowed hard and returned her attention to Kenneth as he walked out the door. 
     “You ready for our tutoring session? Professor?” Jason asked, making his voice low as he stepped closer to her. He’d shown up at her house everyday after that first time, either with flowers or chocolates or teddies or a dinner reservation to an eye-wateringly expensive restaurant. She’d resisted at first, stammering out her arguments about him being her student and it comprising their morals and ethics. But she could only hold out for so long, what with his intense gaze and his mischievous smirk and his muscular build. She dragged her gaze away from him and shifted in position, her stomach flipping with excitement at the memory of him pressed up against her. Then she shoved her laptop into her backpack and nodded at the door. 
     “Um, yeah. Let’s go.” 
     “So these are the mammary glands and they only produce milk after the woman has given birth,” Jason recited, kneading her breasts in his large hands. X shifted in her seat, then whimpered as she felt his cock brush up against her walls. 
     “Jason,” she whined, flopping back against his shoulder as he continued to tease her. He chuckled against her neck and moved one hand down to grip her thigh beneath her skirt. 
     “Come on, professor,” he pleaded, moving his hips slightly so he squelched around inside of her. Shit, she felt good. X let out a desperate moan at the feeling of him stuffing her so fully and Jason sucked in a breath as her p*ssy clamped around his dick. “F*ck.” 
     She squirmed as he squeezed her against his hard chest and grazed her neck with his teeth. But that only made her body all the more aware of his dick plugging her up and she felt her uterus give another hard contraction around him. “Jason!” 
     “Shit,” he sighed, unable to control himself any longer. He grabbed onto her waist and stood up, bending her over the table so he had the perfect angle to hit her at. Then he began thrusting himself in and out of her, shaking the table beneath her and forcing the desperate whines to fall from her mouth. He flipped her skirt up as he continued pumping her full of his cock, then smacked her ass before digging his fingers into her soft flesh. X cried out as his palm slapped her skin, then she whimpered and arched her back as he held her down against the table. 
     God, she was so f*cking cute! He wanted - he needed - to look at her adorable little face as she whined and moaned for him. Jason pulled himself out of her and X let out a little squeak of surprise at the sudden absence of him. She was just about to mewl in protest when he flipped her over and slid her back onto his cock. Her body tensed as he entered her again, but then she relaxed, letting him bottom out inside of her. Jason lifted her up and she curled her legs around his waist so he could carry her over to the sofa. X buried her face in the crook of his neck and he stroked her back gently before laying her down. He leaned over her, his biceps flexing as he held himself above her and X flashed him a sweet smile. Jason groaned at the sight and pressed his lips to hers as he began moving his hips against hers again. 
     Shit, shit, shit! She could barely form a coherent thought with the way he was rubbing up against her walls so very deliciously. She dragged her fingers down his back as her p*ssy contracted around him, then arched her back off the bed so she could feel his abdomen rubbing against her clit. Jason groaned into the crook of her neck, then nipped at her earlobe, his hips never ceasing their relentless pace. Then finally, she was shaking and shuddering beneath him, her hips bucking wildly off the sofa as her p*ssy throbbed around his dick. 
     “F*ck!” Jason choked out, continuing to thrust his hips against hers as he reached his orgasm. His movements faltered as he pumped her full of his c*m, and then he was panting over her, his broad chest heaving for breath as he gazed down at her. X reached up to brush her fingers along his jaw and Jason bent over to slide his tongue between her lips and start kissing her again. 
     She sighed as he entered her mouth, delighting in the tangy taste of him on her tongue. She slid her fingers into his hair and curled herself around him as she kissed him back, moaning softly into his mouth every time his chest brushed against her nipples. 
     “Jason,” she spoke in between kisses. “There are only a few more weeks left of the term. We can just wait until then, right?” Jason groaned against her mouth in disagreement. 
     “How the hell am I supposed to keep my hands off of you for that long, sweetheart?” he whined, running his hands all over her soft little body. “So f*cking perfect.” X giggled and scratched his back lightly with her fingernails. Then she pushed her fingers into his hair and pressed a kiss to the side of his head. Jason let out a contented hum at the action and X smiled before pawing at his shoulder and signalling for him to sit up. Her eyes ran over the stark outlines of his bulky muscles, then she lifted her gaze up to his. 
     “But, Jay … What if you get bored of me?” She fixed him with a nervous look, but he was too distracted by the way she’d called him by his nickname to soothe her concerns. 
     “Wait,” he sighed, hanging his head so that his dark hair fell into his eyes. “Call me that again, princess.” 
     A tingle zapped through her at the new term of affection he’d given her and she reached up to cup his face in her hands. “Jay?” 
     He groaned and X laughed at the defeated slump of his shoulders. He lowered himself back on top of her, bringing his mouth just a breath away from hers, and her stomach buzzed as her fingers brushed over the hint of stubble coating his jaw. “How the f*ck could I get bored of you, princess?” 
     He moaned as he brushed his nose up the length of her neck and grinded his hips down on hers. X sucked in a breath and tightened her grip on him as she felt his dick sliding against her walls. She whimpered at the sensation and Jason chuckled at the way her lower lip trembled before he tugged on it with his teeth. 
     “But you’re so cool and I’m just a boring little professor!” she squeaked out, her nerves lighting up again as he brushed his lips and tongue all over her smooth curves. 
     “You are far from boring, professor,” Jason chuckled against her collarbone, running his hands up her sides. “I always learn something new whenever I’m with you. And I’m not just talking about the sex.” She let out a squeak as he murmured that last part in her ear, her p*ssy starting to leak around his dick still buried inside of her. 
     “O-Okay,” she conceded, her mind starting to grow fuzzy with lust again. “But-”
     “No buts, professor,” Jason warned her, shifting forward so that he bottomed out inside of her again. X let out a low moan, her head falling back in pleasure at the sensation, and Jason seized the opportunity to trail his lips up her throat. “If that ever happens, fail me. Mmm and then … and then ignore me. For a whole week. Don’t talk to me until … until I’m crazy for you again.” He squeezed her breast as he pressed his lips to the base of her ear, his low moans rumbling through her skin and along her bones. 
     “Okay,” X giggled as her back arched off the bed in response to his teasing. Jason swore under his breath at the way her p*ssy squeezed his dick and X pulled him back down to her so she could kiss him. She smiled against his lips and Jason felt a warmth rush through his chest at her delight. “I really like you, Jay.” 
     He grinned, keeping his mouth on hers as he spoke. “I really like you too, X.” 
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indieyuugure · 1 year ago
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Hey, hey, @tmntbestsibscompetiton here! We don’t currently have a description or picture for your entry into the competition yet! You don’t have to send one in, but if you’d like to, just answer this, or tag us so we can make sure it’s ready for when the competition begins! Thank you so much for joining, and good luck.
@tmntbestsibscompetiton Uh, sure:
Tumblr media
Here’s the picture :]
Not sure exactly what you mean by “description” but I’m guessing it’s a description of the story?
“After the defeat of the Shredder and peace having returned to New York, the Turtles celebrate their birthday. However their party is cut short when they discover The Kraang are back on Earth. One battle later they find themselves in the ROTTMNT Universe, approximately 5 months after the Krang Invasion. The 12 turtles befriend the Rise turtles and things are going pretty well, that is until Raph and Leo discover that the Kraang from their dimension have brought back the dreaded monster from the Prison Dimension, Krang. Both teams must team together to fight back against the revenge-hungry aliens and save Earth.”
Hopefully these are okay 😭 Message me again if you needed something different!
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Text
Masterlist of Masterlists Blogs
A list for each masterlist and the person who it's from, just for a visual reference
Edit: I fucking forgot but now in spite doing it later this month because there are so many writers who have cool writing stuff but I keep forgetting and getting overwhelmed and worried I’m going to forget them because my brain is being a little shit like that. Idk how tags work, if they do without having to post it or whatever but if I tag you, you’re cool and I swear one day I will get myself to stop procrastinating on starting to read (the hardest part tbh)
Basically it’ll be the person/blog, short synapse of their writing, and whatever the fuck I thought was interesting and wanted to read later because I keep fearing I’m going to forget and that does not bode well with mental health creating stupid unnecessary anxiety
…I am going to procrastinate on this fuck you future me
HAHA SIKE YOU THOUGHT PAST ME
basic structure is this
@/[blog name]
recommended/saved thing to read (if any. Mainly specifics and also a brief, uh, briefing)
tags that they tend to fall under (#fluff or #whump or whatever. Will be very basic in terms of tagging I’m not good at complicated stuff)
It will be constantly updated as I find new things and info. Also these are in no particular order, maybe one day organize in terms of reading content but for now it’s gonna be a mess. Gonna be a mess of blogs and eventually I’ll add descriptions when I have more time because it’ll be easier than trying to remember each block if that makes sense.
Also words are hard so sorry if I sound like a broken record for some of them. They’re all great, regardless of whether you’re giving the blorbos hurt or comfort or throwing them into a wall and then giving them a blanket. Y’all are positively epic with you’re writing don’t ever stop
Also, because I feel the urge to add because I feel like I’m somehow being a fraud and two-faced liar (I overthink a lot okay?), I am technically of the blog @idkanonymystuff for reference. Adding that because I don’t want to accidentally have people think I’m two separate people it makes me feel bad and want to be as apologetic as this
https://youtu.be/XspDkqEtWFE?si=MxUloG4CM1GZKRSW
(Hopefully that works, if not, search up Japanese Apology Olympics)
Added a cut so that if it’s reblogged it doesn’t take up the entire thing lol because it’s looong
I’m putting this post here because I like learning about others blorbos and also they have stories behind them and I like that
Also putting this post here because it has a bunch of blogs for writing people. Mostly heroes and villains but ye
ーーー
@jumpywhumpywriter
Honestly everything, but meaning to get to the Vampires and Villains crossover mainly and also the books involving Shadow and Thomas (I forgo title). All of it is hecking amazing and very well written, first started at the Crippled Hero and went from there. All of it is great! Personal favorite probs the Coffee shop
Whump, heroes and villains, fantasy (? Idk, there’s mythology creatures and world built stuff it’s all cool)
@unknownogre
Also everything. Not anything specifically, maybe the Ao3 stuff but all of the writings are good
Fantasy, heroes and villains (occasionally), fluff (?idk if that counts but there’s some wholesome stuff there)
@paingoes
The Destroyer’s Trilogy, either on Tumblr or Ao3. Been meaning to read it but starting is the hardest part. Damn you procrastination
Whump, living weapon (not a tag here I don’t think but that’s the story content. Mainly for Destroyer), recovery (rubies), think that’s all but I’m dumb so sue me
@heroes-villains-side-blog
Honestly they just have a bit of everything (and as the name implies, it’s all heroes and villains). Also good for worldbuilding ideas (from the stories)
Hecking all the tags, but I personally like the crack tag. Also fluff and soft ____. I’m a sucker for that stuff okay? Not just whump (though that’s good as well)
@chaotic-orphan (and also @macknus technically?)
Main ones are ones I’ve already read, Benign Mischeif (really hecking good I love it) and the delirious villain x hero caretaker (also really hecking good, fingers crossed that vengeance is had. Iykyk). Maybe check out the other ones and see if they spark interest
Whump, heroes and villains, fantasy and found family (for the benign mischief. Maybe also fluff but that’s probably a stretch)
@thepenultimateword
Not entirely sure, but all the series are quite good and have nice fluff. No immediate thoughts on what to read but it’s great for fuzzy/comfort feelings (as far as I know/have read. Will update if there’s more)
Heroes and villains, fluff, fantasy (kinda? There is some fantasy)
@thoughtsonhurtandcomfort
All their stuff is the absolute shit (if you’re reading this, it’s the idk anon who sent a long appreciation. Been lurking), amazing whump and comfort/recovery (absolutely phenomenal cannot say it enough) for all their blorbos, perfect amount of shaking them in a Tupperware and then comfort. All of them are good, just, all of them. If I listened each one out and my likings this would be not be a briefing
Whump, comfort, fluff, recovery, lotta different Whumpees (not a tag but quite a nice variety), fantasy (?),
@fourwingedwriter
As of rn, mainly the cyborg whump series (FUCKING AMAZING HIGHLY RECOMMEND), it’s very sweet and has recovery after whump (again, I really love the recovery and comfort and all that. My absolute favorite. Also I like happy endings shut up), but the other series seem cool too.
Whump, cyborg whump (specifically), fluff, recovery (that’s kinda rocky? Eh?),
@inkwell-and-dagger
The How to Kill an Immortal one seemed quite interesting! Been meaning to check it out later (if I don’t procrastinate into oblivion).
Whump, immortal specifically, uh, I’ll add more after I read it
@whump-in-the-closet
Honestly a few, something about an arson elf (I forgo the name sorry) and the Saviour thing. Read the first few for the elf and all for the savior (atm) and they’re really hecking good.
Whump, heroes and villains, fantasy, living weapon (I know they have some stuff in that. Might be prompts but those are also cool)
@the-modern-typewriter
Heroes and villains mainly, personally I read them like one would a daily magazine, all the pieces are very good. Also personal things which are cool and I want to read but alas I do not have a patron account (I forgot the titles but I will put them here once I find/remember)
Heroes and villains, fluff, whump, h/c, honestly all the tags lotta variety
@raineandsky
Mainly heroes and villains, great variety, lotta content. Good for when you’re in a browsing sorta mood
Heroes and villains, honestly all the tags.
@the-broken-pen
Great stuff, nothing specific but I have been meaning to browse the stories available but haven’t gotten to it. The ones I HAVE read though are amazing and have nice feelings.
Heroes and villains, fantasy, fluff and angst (as of rn those are mainly the genres of the ones I’ve read.)
@whumpsday
Mainly the Kane and Jim series, it’s fucking phenomenal (sorry for alternating curse usage I’m inconsistent), one of the first series I got into, absolutely impeccable storyline. The prequel is great set up, the Jim arc makes me want to ram a silver sword up Kane’s ass, the Kane arc made me feel sorry for them (especially after knowing all of dudes history and lack of persuasion. The whump parts were gooooood though), and the current arc makes me feel warm and fuzzy and gave me inspo for my own storylines. All in all, great shit and can’t wait to see how the next arcs eventually unfold
Whump, vampire whump specifically, recovery and comfort, fluff (kinda??? Like at the end),
@mj-iza-writer
No series to follow but they do have some good shit. Great one-shots (?) and I really love the recovery/comfort that usually happens at the end (again, personal favorite thing to read.). Highly recommend
Whump, recovery, comfort, fluff (probably doesn’t fit exactly but some things are quite sweet imo. Do correct me if I’m wrong, I’m not good with tags
@whumpisgoodwhumpislife
Great series with Everest and the battery and fish man. It’s a nice amount of whump and comfort together and I really like the fluffiness (?) of the recovery part of things (rip battery man at the moment).
Whump, recovery, comfort, vampire and living battery and mer (those are the three of them)
@befuddled-calico-whump (and also @whumpflash technically?)
I have yet to read their stuff but all of it seems really hecking epic. Penumbra sparked interest but then I procrastinated so hard on starting it that I feel guilty (what?). But all of it seems really epic! Also comics! All really cool! Personal fave that I actually finished from getting started was the whole testing the effectiveness of torture methods (Test Track, that’s what it was) and it’s horrible I love it (and I mean that in the most genuine way possible)
Whump, comics (? Might make a new tag for that cause comics are also great!), lotta stuff lotta variety
@save-the-villainous-cat
Their stuff is the absolute shit (like all the others)! Heroes and villains and the writing is so well done (god I feel like I’m being repetitive curse my sporadic vocabulary). They have fluff (fucking phenomenal), they have angst (I don’t think I’ve checked it out yet lol but it’s probably fucking phenomenal) they have whump (also fucking phenomenal), they have horny jail (what? I may be asexual but, uh, okay idk I mainly focus on the closeness and intimacy not the, uh, y’know. Anyways, it’s also fucking phenomenal), it’s all great! All around absolutely beautiful works of literature
Heroes and villains, fluff, angst, whump, smut (the four nations—),
@sir-fenris
The Curse of Withering…man it’s fucking beautiful. I have plans on reblogging it with commentary and stuff but procrastinating and overthinking got the better of me. I will do it in the future (mayhaps) but until then, it was hands down one of the best things I’ve read. The concept, the worldbuilding (via random posts that aren’t the main storyline), the characters, the way the words convey the feelings and characters and all that so smoothly, honestly perfection. I eagerly await whatever morsels or writings come next and that Cyrus can have tomato soup and grilled cheese and a blanket or whatever the heck they want because they hecking deserve it
Whump, living weapon, more tags to be added as the story unfolds
@lovelizards
Great whump stuff in terms of both writing and not writing (art. The word is art)! Also apparently stardew valley somewhat which I’m not complaining about, hell yeah! As for series, honestly all of them are quite interesting, just a matter of getting started
Whump, comics (okay not really but it’s a tag that’ll work in the future for when I get around to reblogging stuff with art and all that),
@those-damn-snippets
Beautiful writings in their own and they have collection of heroes and villains stuff that are also great to read! I particularly like the Breakfast in Bed storyline, something about drunkness, Chaotic good (the villain is a mood), and something involving a four-armed monster dude. There are a lot more but they’re all phenomenal!
Heroes and villain, fluff, angst (?),
@creweemmaeec11
Heroes and villains, fluffy writings all around, all of it is great! Been meaning to finish one of the series, Panic as a gift (I forgo title) but all of them, series and snippets, are beautiful!
Heroes and villains, fluff,
@melpomenelamusa
The one named chimera I think was the name (shut up it’s late) but it seems really hecking interesting! The whole concept is really cool and just, god words are not on my side atm but yeah seems epic. Definitely on my to read list
Whump, nonhuman (?),
@oros-ash3s
All of their things seem really interesting and in depth and complex to the point where my brain gets overwhelmed trying to absorb all the details but in a good way. I’m very curious to learn about the storylines (understanding/comprehension be damned /j) and is definitely on the to read list!
Whump, I know there ARE other tags it could fall under but I have yet to find them sorry, will update as I get into it
@writing-prompt-s
Technically they aren’t a writing blog, BUT the prompts and reblog of said prompts have some absolute gems of literature. Great for if you don’t know what to read and can just scroll around until you find a prompt that’s interesting and then just look through that prompts reblogs for writing. It’s fucking worth it, found a few of my favorite writers there (like unknownogre)!
All the tags, just, all of them, it can be anything like Barbie
@defectivehero
Also heroes and villains though with more so a focus on whump for the most part (though if my short memory serves me right, a few that aren’t as whumpy. Could be wrong tho). It’s been a minute since I checked them out (I do have plans to browse a bit), but their writing is phenomenal, the emotions and actions and all those writing things are done so well. Highly recommend!
Heroes and villains, whump/angst (mostly), might be other tags but I’ll add them as I remember because it’s seriously been a minute
@neon-kazoo
Mainly heroes and villains stuff, I’ve read quite a few of the things and they’re all phenomenal. No immediate series that intrigue me to get started on but it’s great for browsing!
Heroes and villains, all the other type of tags idk man it’s a lot and I’m stupid /j
@melpomenelamusa (for some reason I can’t remember if I already did this one. If I did, apologies)
The main intriguing thing is the chimera series (the one with the half-animal peoples). Seems like an extremely intriguing concept and is in my to read list!
Whump, non human (specifically. I think?),
@writinglittlepains
Got introduced from looking through either chaotic orphan or closet-whump person (I am so sorry I forgo name whump-in-the-closet?), the speedster one if fucking crazy. I love it and can’t wait to see where it goes next!
Heroes and villains, whump, lab specifically???,
@secretwhumplair
Recently got quite invested into the “No Warrior” storyline and so far (still quite in the beginning) it’s hecking great! Actually phenomenal, and that’s before I’ve even read more than like the first 5 installment. Currently on consequences and I am god damn hooked on the storyline! Can’t wait to see how it ends!
Whump, comfort, uh, fantasy kinda? It has Vikings idk man
@mirensiart
Okay, again, I know this is technically more so a comic but shut up it’s my bookshelf and I do what I want (plus comics are just books with way too much picture to word ratio which is great for my stupid attention span :D). The LU pain sharing AU is great! Also really hecking good art. Also I like Legend of Zelda stuff, it’s cool. Fun fact, actually I think the first reason I started regularly coming into tumblr lol
Comics, fantasy (? The video game characters are technically fantasy Esq), idk if whump counts but kinda?, fluff, I guess it could technically be slice of life but in a really strange and complicated sense. I did say I suck at tags so forgive me this is hard agh-
@kythonsechos
Mostly fantasy stuff and while there isn’t a lot of stuff they’ve done, the few pieces of writing they have done hooked me and despite not knowing whatever world they have going on I am god damn invested in it. Also the writing is done phenomenally!
Fantasy, uh, atm that’s kinda it. Maybe kinda worldbuilding??
@just-horrible-things
Saw the master list of “Unlikely Salvation” from another blog and it seemed really hecking interesting. I just have not yet had the ability to stop procrastinating and actually get started on it.
Whump, fantasy (?), uh, more to come once I read/figure out if there’s anything else
@kaiwewi
Lotta good heroes and villains stuff. They have some great series; just binge read the one with what I can only for some reason remember as “Fashion Famous” even though that’s most definitely not the title, but it’s great! Also the writing is fucking phenomenal and like tomato soup with the grilled cheese on a rainy fall afternoon when you don’t have any adulting to do!
Heroes and villains, plethora of all the tags (because wide variety), ugghhh my brain is melting it’s midnight I’m sorry will edit this part out agh—
@thewhumpcaretaker
I can’t remember if I already did them, but if not what the fuck me they’re great how could you forget? ANYWAYS, Curse in two bodies (I am sorry if I got name wrong it’s late and I’m on mobile and really don’t wanna do sushi’s) is fucking phenomenal, beautifully done and a very unique writing style I really dig.
Whump, Royal whump specifically, kinda comfort? Caretaker stuff but like fucked up?? How do I categorize this? Fantasy I think (or has kings and shit that counts right?)
@pigeonwhumps
I genuinely can’t recall if I put them here but all of there stuff seems great! Been invested in (now procrastinating on) the Phoenix series ‘Immortal Cannon Fodder’ and it made me feel things I was not prepared to feel and I wish to adopt and care for them and, definitely unrelated, want to skin a few certain individuals alive (that’s a compliment, you’re very good at portraying characters to hate. Aka you are very good with crafting words, I seriously mean that as a compliment, really do apologize if it’s unintentionally rude or anything)
Whump, immortal whump, heroes and villains (technically), those are the main ones for now
@maybeitsalivescribbles
Don’t know how I forgot them (or if I already did include them, how did I forget again), but their stuff is the good stuff. I don’t even think that’s good enough to express how good the writing is, loved the “These two dorks” master list and their one off crackles. Also one of the first few writers I discovered when I only just uncovered the world of tumblr writers!
Heroes and villains, fantasy, lil bit of everything tbh it’s great
Okay another break god why are there so many of you—
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